by Marika Ray
Her hand slid from my chest down to my cock, already on his side and asleep for the night. I wasn’t ready.
“Hey!” I nearly dislodged her head from my chest in my surprise.
She laughed. Actually laughed at me, which didn’t help the problem any, let me tell you. Then she climbed over my body, straddling my hips and planting her fists in the pillows on either side of my head.
“Oh, and you called me the old lady, huh? I’m ready to go for round two already.”
Her breasts were right in my face and my hands itched to hold their weight, so I went for it. Her eyes widened as she felt instant movement under her hips.
“Just keep talking your sass, lady, and I’ll be ready again before you know it. You’re lucky I find your mouth a total turn-on.” Playful Elle was turning out to be my favorite person ever.
“You know what I want?” She raised her dark eyebrow at me. More movement.
“My cock?”
Another eye roll. “I want you to call me by my nickname.”
I cocked my head. “What’s your nickname, sweetheart?”
“El Jefe. The Boss.”
I threw back my head and laughed, momentarily forgetting about the breasts that filled my hands. “That is too perfect.” I sobered quickly and lifted my head to take a nipple into my mouth as apology for taking my mind off them for even a second. She moaned and gave me more, her other breast now resting on the side of my face. I could have happily died right there, choked to death by Elle Fierro’s magnificent breasts.
Releasing them regretfully, I swept her hair back where it was hanging over us and pulled her in for a kiss. When her eyes went fuzzy and her mouth went quiet, I whispered, “I’ll call you El Jefe, but I’ll be the one to boss you around. Deal?”
Her eyes crinkled in the corners and she looked all too happy to let me rule her body.
“Get off me and stand by the dresser.” I didn’t know if she’d actually do it, but I had to find out. She licked her lips and I could almost see her brain working through it, trying to decide if she’d relinquish control. My answer was her pushing off my chest and scrambling to get off the bed.
She walked slowly to the dresser, her hips swinging as she put on a show for me. Stopping at the dresser, she looked back at me over her shoulder, biting her lip. I sat up, my gaze never leaving that lip that brought me to my knees. I prowled more than walked my way over to her, my cock fully loaded and ready to engage. My duffel bag was still on the floor by the bed, the package of condoms right there for me to easily snag a few on my way.
I approached her from behind, pulling her hair to one shoulder and the tip of my cock hitting her in the small of her back.
“Hands on the dresser, El Jefe,” I whispered in her ear right before I bit her earlobe.
She complied, no questions asked, and I wondered what else I could ask her to do.
“Step your feet wide.”
I waited until she did, then I ran my hand up her spine and pushed between her shoulder blades, lowering her upper body so her ass was in the air like a sweet invitation.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes flew to meet my gaze in the mirror.
“Over there on the bed, you closed your eyes when you came. This time, you better be looking at me. Got it?”
Jesus, she was going to kill me. At the ripe old age of twenty-two I was going to have a heart attack from looking at the hottest woman who walked the planet. With each command I gave her, her eyes heated and her skin flushed hotter. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
I rolled on the condom and tilted her hips, notching the tip of my cock at her entrance and pushing all the way in with one thrust. She gasped, but didn’t look away from my mirror image. My toes curled into the hotel carpet and I could have been done right then. But where was the fun in that?
So I pulled all the way out and reached down to massage up one of her legs, almost as happy to have my hand on any part of her skin. Then the other leg received the same attention. She pushed her hips even further back, squirming, wanting me to enter her again, but I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.
“My rule number one, El Jefe: you’re not in control when the clothes are off. I am.”
One eye twitched, but she didn’t disagree.
I trailed one finger up the groove of her spine, reaching her hair. Using both hands, I pulled all her hair into my fist and gave it a tight tug. Her head tilted back and I slammed into her, a groan ripping from her throat.
One hand in her hair and the other on her hip, I set a punishing pace. Her eyes started to close. I tugged on her hair harder, arching her back. She gasped and her eyes flew open again, her hands straining to keep in contact with the dresser.
I clenched my jaw and tried to take in the vision of Elle in the mirror, her breasts swinging with each thrust into her hot, tight body. She’d completely submitted to me, something I never expected, hell, didn’t even hope for.
I felt her legs trembling and had a moment of hesitation. Maybe I was being too rough with her. But then she was chanting my name and clenching around my dick. Her eyes stayed wide-open, her gaze never leaving me while she came undone. I was so focused on her, making sure I gave her every last second of pleasure I could, I didn’t think about coming myself.
When she nearly collapsed onto the dresser, I pulled out and picked her up, carrying her to the bed. She opened her arms for me and I crawled in, both of us lying on our sides facing each other. Her limbs were limp and pliant. I pulled her leg over my hip and entered her slowly.
Her eyes fluttered open and I pressed my forehead to hers. Gently rocking, I found my release quickly, capturing her mouth and pouring everything I felt in that moment into the kiss.
Long minutes later, still inside her, she started talking, like I’d uncorked a well of conversation that only flowed when she was sated and well-fucked.
“You’re so good, Austin.”
“Why, thank you.” I chuckled.
She slapped my chest half-heartedly. “No, silly man. I meant your cooking skills.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, but I’m not sure what I’m even doing here. The other contestants have actual experience working in a kitchen and have even gone to school for it. I think I might only be here for comedic relief.”
She lifted her head and the line between her eyebrows was back, the hazy eyes transforming with a fire that burned in its place. “Austin Cox, I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. Do you really think I’d lie and say you’re good when I don’t think that? Really?”
I paused for a second, thinking it through. “No. You’d tell me how badly I sucked and then when I was crying, you’d tell me five more reasons why I sucked.”
She thumped me on the chest. “Exactly! So start having some confidence about yourself.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay, so dress better and have more confidence. Anything else I should be changing about myself?”
She gave me a look. “No, definitely not. The rest of you is magnificent.”
“Wow. I’ve never been called magnificent before.”
She pressed her lips to mine and settled back down in the crook of my arm. I lay still and lapped up the feeling of her in my arms. Her breath evened out and before long, she was asleep. And then so was I, a smile on my face all night.
“You can certainly expect some of the dishes to have a Spanish flair, but no, the restaurant will be largely North American steakhouse cuisine. I’m not striving to be the first restaurant of its kind. I want a place where every single dish is someone’s favorite and the quality of food and service is excellent every single time you visit. A restaurant you can rely on for its excellence consistently.”
My groggy eyes opened to Elle pacing the window of my hotel room, fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes, minus the wedges. I had to blink a few times to come up to speed on all that had happened. She’d slept in my arms all night after making love to her several times, whi
ch had been a premature glimpse of heaven.
But waking up to her hard voice drilling into the phone while she was fully dressed was not how I would’ve planned our first morning together. With her back to me, I found my boxers and slid them on before getting up and making some coffee. When she heard me rummaging around, she turned around and gave me a grimace that was supposed to be a smile I’d bet. And a finger wave.
Yep, she let me fuck her brains out last night and now I only rated a finger wave.
I ran a hand through my hair and focused on making coffee. Maybe a caffeine injection would help me sort out what was going on here and what to do about it.
“Sure. You bet. I’ll call you as soon as the menu is set. Okay. Thank you.” Elle hung up and stayed facing the window for a moment.
I eyed her back, letting her take the lead. If she was pulling away from me, she’d need to say it out loud.
She hit some keys on her phone and then looked over her shoulder at me. “I have to make this call to my executive chef. Can you keep quiet?”
I nearly choked, letting out a sound that was half snort, half indignation. “I’ll be as quiet as you were last night, El Jefe,” I snapped, needing to remind her of how things had been, even if she wanted to pretend it never happened.
Her spine straightened and she didn’t reply, simply hit a button and lifted the cell phone to her ear. I was dismissed.
Goddammit, she’d been so playful and open and warm last night, I was lulled into thinking she’d stay that way. That we’d broken through some barrier and were now steady on more intimate terms. Clearly, that was all wrong. I wasn’t any closer than I’d been the day I walked in on her in her dressing room. The only difference was now I knew how she could be when she let down all her defenses.
I’d been intrigued with her before. Now I was haunted.
The coffee pot sputtered out two cups and I grabbed one, not even letting it cool. I needed caffeine, sooner rather than later. Elle started barking orders at her poor chef, something about a food critic wanting to write up the restaurant in an article about restaurants to watch.
The rolling desk chair was the perfect spot to sit and watch her work. Like a psychologist in his chair, trying to figure out the mind of the brilliant woman in front of him. I needed to figure out what switch got flipped in her head at some point between falling asleep and waking up this morning. Once I figured that out, I could make sure to stay far, far away from that toggle.
“I have to run to make it in time to the shoot today. Let’s chat tonight and hammer out the details. Send me what you have in the meantime. Got it.” She hung up and swung around finally, giving me her attention, but not her gaze.
“Gotta run,” she said while slipping on her shoes and gathering her purse.
“How about a good-morning kiss first?” I ran a hand over my beard, giving her a chance to bridge the gap, but not expecting anything remotely warm.
She ignored me, walking to the door like I was nothing but a pack of those little donuts she loved so much: to be eaten when the craving struck, but hidden from the world as a shameful indulgence.
She got all the way to the door, her hand on the knob, when she spoke. “You’re young. You don’t understand responsibility. I have an entire staff and crew depending on me to get this restaurant open on time. I intend to make that happen.”
A shot of pain raced through my body. She didn’t know me at all. Responsibility? “Maybe you should get to know me before you start tossing out insults and judgements like that.”
She didn’t answer, just yanked the door open and left, her head held high, the wall rebuilt even higher.
The message was clear: she’d blocked me out.
Anger burned up my chest and I wished I were home. I’d call Marcos and meet him at the basketball court to beat the ever-loving shit out of my body, just to distract myself from the thoughts in my head.
I could understand Elle having dreams and wanting to make sure they came true. I was doing the same thing. Get a job as head chef in an upscale restaurant, get custody of my sister. The difference was, I’d never belittle her for her dream, or give mine more importance than hers. That was uncalled for.
My phone rang and I saw it was my sister calling. I packed away my anger and chatted with the woman in my life who actually meant everything. Time to screw my head on straight and get back to working on my own dream.
11
Elle
I was physically sick to my stomach. First, for having slept with a contestant on the show. Then for walking out on him in such a heartless way. Dios mío, he’d stood there all rumpled from sleep, his muscles popping everywhere, his hair gorgeously tousled from my hands gripping handfuls all night long. I’d wanted to strip naked again and pull his boxers down and show him how much I worshipped his body.
But the food critic was firing questions in my ear that had to be addressed. John was the food critic to get in your pocket if you wanted your restaurant to be a success. The construction of the inside of the space was moving forward while I was here in L.A., which meant I needed to be moving forward getting the menu set and organizing our suppliers. I’d neglected calling my executive chef the last few days because I’d been spending every moment either with Austin or thinking about Austin.
I needed to pull my head out this ridiculous non-relationship with a man far too young for me and remember my priorities. I was queasy, realizing I’d given him the wrong message by sleeping with him. And then I was hot and sweaty all over remembering him yanking on my hair and taking control of my body like some sort of Dom. I was no sub, but that had been blazing hot, like nothing I’d experienced before.
I headed to the offset location early, needing the help of makeup today. My trembling fingers were no match for winged eyeliner. I looked well rested, thanks to several orgasms that knocked me out right after. So there was always that.
By the time I was done in makeup, the cast and crew were all there, mingling around the park lawn, checking out the fire pits set up for the shoot. Tom called us all over and we had our morning meeting.
“No one is being voted off today, so enjoy that, but understand your performance here will be included in next challenge’s decision.” Tom was looking straight at Brandy and Austin.
I did a double take at Austin. His beard was gone, his fresh-faced chin completely free of scruff. I’d never seen him without at least a day or two of growth on his face. His black button-up shirt was tucked into charcoal gray dress pants and brown dress shoes. He looked like a professional.
He looked damn good.
I instantly missed “my” Austin with his ridiculous T-shirts and worn jeans.
“You’ll have to start your own fire, make your own one-pot meal, and you’ve got one hour to do it. Make us proud, pioneers!” Tom took the bullhorn away from his mouth and the crew scattered to get ready for the shoot.
I joined Bertrand and Michael at the wooden picnic table we’d use as our judges’ table for the day. Wardrobe had added a bit of flair by giving me a red plaid dress, albeit in a modern design. The gentlemen had matching red plaid handkerchiefs in the pockets of their suit jackets. Bertrand had even added a bolo tie I was quick to tease him about.
While the crew got the booms set up and checked lighting out here in the early morning sunshine, Austin and Brandy were chatting by their stations. Judging by the frowns and the heads in close proximity, it looked like a serious conversation. A frisson of fear started up in my stomach, mixing horribly with the nausea. I hoped our dirty laundry wasn’t getting aired, to spread like wildfire amongst the cast and crew. I was fairly certain I could trust him not to say anything. Although I thought he’d understood my position a few days ago and then he was feeding me dessert with his own fingers in front of everyone.
The location manager was running around, making sure the area was blocked off appropriately so we didn’t have extra extras in our shots of the challenge. Finally everything was set and Austin and Brandy
broke apart to stand by their campfire stations. Tom quieted the set and we were filming.
“Welcome back to Taste Test, campfire edition!” Lindsey was full cowgirl in short shorts, boots, and a plaid shirt three sizes too small for her enlarged breasts. I supposed I should have counted myself lucky wardrobe hadn’t had the same thing in mind for me.
Lindsey explained the rules and I tested out my own acting skills, smiling for the camera, making witty comments, and keeping my gaze away from the tall, handsome contestant who wouldn’t leave my awareness. The challenge started and Austin and Brandy jumped into action.
I could finally look at him without him noticing, so I looked my fill, feasting on the sight of his body in that outfit, looking older than he ever had before. I knew exactly what he looked like out of the shirt and pants, how his skin jumped when I trailed my hand over him. How his abs flexed when he thrust...
I wrenched my thoughts away from last night with difficulty. Instead, I focused on Lindsey and the way she was paying all kinds of attention to Austin today. My money was on her noticing his outfit and wanting to see where some flirting could lead. Austin laughed and smiled like normal as he got his fire going quickly and went to work on his meal. He looked perfectly at ease, which irritated me as much as him talking quietly with Brandy had earlier.
Was he unaffected by last night? Did he write me off as a crazy lady? Or maybe I was some sort of conquest. See if he could land the judge. Well done, Austin. Your hugs and your laugh worked like a charm.
No, no, that wasn’t right either. He wanted more this morning. I was the one to run, not him. I just needed him to understand that being with him couldn’t take away from my priorities. If he could deal with that, then maybe we could work something out.