by Katie McCoy
“Lucy was my mom,” I explained. “She died when I was twelve. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry.” She put down the ice cream and took my hand. “Were you very close?”
“Yeah.” I fiddled with my spoon. “She’s the one who actually got me into cooking. She was a genius in the kitchen—completely self-taught, too.”
“I bet she’d be pretty proud of you now.” Ella squeezed my hand. “Mr. Head Chef.”
I shrugged, even though I knew Ella was right.
“What about your dad?” Ella asked, and I guess she had a right to be curious considering that she had actually spoken to him while I was sick.
“We’re not close,” I told her. “He never really understood the whole cooking thing. Still doesn’t. I’ve worked at Grassfed for over five years—he’s never once come to eat there.”
“Have you asked him?”
“Wouldn’t matter if I did,” I said, even as I tried to remember if I had ever actually just asked him to come to the restaurant. I must have. Right? Either way, he should have come a long time ago. My mom definitely would have.
Ella didn’t say anything, but she passed me the ice cream.
“My parents don’t really understand the whole classical music thing,” she confessed. “They’re all jazz musicians.”
“But you’re really good.” I took a bite of ice cream. “I don’t know anything about classical music but even I can appreciate that.”
Ella blushed. God, I loved it when she blushed. Especially now that I can see that the blush goes all the way down to her chest. And what a chest it was.
I cleared my throat, trying to focus on Ella, not on her boobs.
“I really want to win the competition,” she said quietly.
“You will,” I told her.
She glanced up, surprised.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re the first person to tell me that,” she confessed.
I didn’t understand. “What about your parents? Or your teacher?”
Ella shook her head. “They’re supportive, but they don’t think I can win.”
“They’re wrong.” I had no idea what her competition was, but from where I stood, Ella was definitely deserving of the top prize. Or at least the confidence to believe that she could get it.
“Looks like we both have parents that don’t really understand us.” Ella dug her spoon into the ice cream.
“And yet we’re both doing pretty well for ourselves,” I finished. “Not too bad for a couple of black sheep.” I reached out and tapped my spoon with hers. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She smiled at me and I couldn’t help it—I leaned over and kissed her.
It was supposed to be an innocent kiss, but I was learning that nothing was innocent when it came to Ella. When I pulled back she had a wicked grin on her face. Still holding her ice cream spoon, she tilted it forward, letting the melting ice cream drip onto her collarbone. She shivered.
“Oops,” she said.
I shook my head at her. “Naughty girl,” I murmured, leaning forward to clean up the ice cream. With my mouth.
Ella lowered the sheet and let another drip of ice cream fall. This time it slid down her chest and onto her breast.
“I think I’m ready for an encore.” She put the ice cream aside and leaned back, gorgeous and smiling.
Me too, I thought, reaching for her. Me too.
24
Ella
It had been days since I had thought about the competition. I knew I should be focusing on my final performance, but my mind (and nights) were full of Jake and nothing but Jake. The last round of the competition was two weeks away, and a few days ago, the mere thought of it would have sent me into a panic. But now, there were other things on my mind. I still practiced, of course, but for the first time I was having fun when I did it. I was enjoying the music and Jake made me feel as if I could do anything. For that reason, I avoided Mark’s text messages, all of which urged me to come to his studio to practice. He felt the need to oversee my process, he kept saying, especially during this critical time. I knew I would have to go eventually—he was still my instructor—but I wasn’t in any rush to see him.
The week was a haze of food and sex and Jake. Our schedules adapted to each other’s. My early mornings became early afternoons, and his late nights were no longer as late—he seemed to rush home every evening so we could be together. Sometimes we were together several times before we finally fell asleep. My body had never felt so alive or so sore. Jake introduced me to pleasure—and positions—I had never even imagined. Everything felt new and exciting and wonderful.
I sat at the counter in his apartment, watching him cook. I couldn’t imagine anything sexier, okay, well I could imagine a few things. I could even remember a few things, but Jake in an apron, baking brownies, well, that was something I wouldn’t forget any time soon. If only he wasn’t wearing his shirt—that would make it even more perfect.
The entire time he baked, Jake narrated his process. I could see why all the girls in his cooking class were in love with him.
“Some people like to add fancy frills to their brownies,” he was saying, mixing the batter together. “There’s always some new trend—cheesecake, salted caramel, mint swirl—but if your brownies are good, you don’t need anything else. Just chocolate.” He tasted the mixture, the pleasure on his face evident.
Mmm, I thought, both about the brownies and the person making them.
He caught me eyeing him and raised an eyebrow.
“Guessing you want to try?”
I expected him to pass me the spoon, but instead, he dipped his finger in the batter and extended it towards me. A few weeks ago, I would have blushed and turned away. The new me wrapped my hand around his wrist and took his whole finger into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the incredible chocolate.
“You really are going to kill me,” Jake groaned once I had gotten my fill. “But what a way to go.” He poured the batter into the pan and set it in the oven.
I stole the bowl with the remaining batter and was running my finger around the inside. Somehow I had gone from a girl who ate nothing but canned soup to a woman who licked brownie batter from a guy’s hand and then the bowl.
Jake set the time. “Twenty minutes,” he said and turned back to me, a wicked grin on his face. “What could we possibly do for twenty minutes?”
“Finish this batter,” I said innocently, licking my fingers.
Jake’s eyes went hot. “You’d have to eat it very slowly,” he told me, coming around the counter.
“Well, I like to take my time,” I informed him, pulling the bowl closer to me.
“Oh, I know.” Jake gave me a wink. “I like taking my time too.”
He approached and leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of my hips, trapping me in the barstool.
“Feel like sharing any of that?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“You are greedy,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his nose nuzzling against the side of my neck, his mouth just barely touching my throat. Then he kissed me there, hot and wet, his teeth taking the tiniest bite. “No worries.” His voice vibrated through me. “I’ve got something sweet right here.”
Then, he dipped his finger into the batter and drew a line of chocolate on my exposed collarbone.
“Hey!” I protested, but only until his tongue swept across my skin. I closed my eyes at the sensation, my head falling back.
I felt another line of chocolate painted onto my skin, this time leading downward. Like before, Jake’s mouth followed it and then went even further, unbuttoning my shirt and kissing his way down my exposed torso. Once my shirt was completely undone, Jake pushed it off my shoulders and I let it fall to the floor, leaving me in the sheer black bra I was hoping he would discover.
“Baby,” he moaned, and I opened my eyes just in time to see him paint brownie batter onto my bra, where my visible nipples were taut and waiting.
“Oooooh.” I fisted my fingers in his hair as his mouth turned its focus to my breasts, licking me through the thin material. After he lavished attention on both of them, his lips found mine. My tongue was waiting for his; the sweet and hot taste of chocolate overwhelmed me.
Barely missing a beat, Jake swept me into his arms. He glanced over at the oven.
“Fifteen minutes,” he informed me, taking me to the bed. “How many standing ovations do you think we can manage in that time?”
But I was already tugging at his apron and shirt. The teasing and foreplay was fun, but at that moment, I wanted him now.
“I want you inside me,” I demanded, continuing to shock myself with my forwardness.
Jake’s own surprise flickered across his face, but was replaced immediately by need.
“So bossy.” He grinned and shucked off his apron.
I wiggled out of my jeans as he shed his shirt and pants. He wore nothing underneath. I reached up towards his bedside table, grabbing a condom from the drawer.
Scooting towards the end of the bed, I took him in my hand. He felt hard and smooth and incredible.
“Do you see how much I want you?” Jake asked, as I stroked him slowly. “Goddamn.” He threw back his head. “That feels amazing.”
Emboldened by his response, I leaned forward and placed my mouth over him, taking as much as I could. I felt his hands fist in my hair.
“Oh god,” I heard Jake groan from above.
Drawing my tongue over the head, I tasted him, the salty essence that was all Jake. Suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, pulling me up against him, his mouth slanted across mine. He made quick work of my bra and panties, and I heard the ripping of foil. His hand slid between our bodies and I felt him roll the condom onto his hard length.
“Wrap your arms around my neck, baby,” Jake ordered, and as I did, his palms cupped my ass, lifting me. One hand pulled my leg up and around his back, his cock pressing against my opening. Then it slid inside.
I held on tight, my moans muffled in his shoulder as my other foot left the ground, joining the other one as I clung to him. With his hands tight on my ass, Jake lifted my body and brought it down, his cock going even deeper.
“Oh my god, Jake, that feels so good!” I cried, as he thrust into me, the muscles in his back and shoulder flexing beneath my hands.
“Fuck,” Jake groaned as his knees buckled and we fell onto the bed, my legs still wrapped around him, his cock still buried inside of me. Not losing his rhythm, he thrust into me hard and fast. Pressure built, and I dug my nails into his arms as my orgasm hit me.
“Oh gooooooooood,” I moaned.
Then without warning, he withdrew. Before I could complain, I felt his hot tongue sliding inside me as he pulled my legs over his shoulder. Reaching down, I buried my fingers in his hair, just as he had done to me, guiding him exactly where I needed him most. He licked and stroked me, his hot mouth bringing me back to the brink, before I tumbled down again, my entire body shaking with the intensity of my orgasm.
Then he was inside me again, his cock buried deep. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer. Impossibly, I began to tense again, and I buried my face in Jake’s shoulder, my moans vibrating through my entire body as I came again. Above me, Jake’s movements became frantic. Throwing back his head, he gripped my hips and gave one final thrust before collapsing on top of me.
We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined, my limbs completely useless. Jake turned his head and kissed me on the neck.
“You can boss me around any time you want,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
Before I could respond, I heard the kitchen timer go off. I thought of the bowl of batter still sitting on the counter and knew I’d never think about brownies the same way again.
25
Ella
“Remind me again how you got invited to my parents for dinner?” I grumbled to Jake as we walked towards the front door.
His freshly shaved face wore a grin. “Well, you were covered in chocolate and had to take a shower and made the mistake of leaving your phone with me.”
“It’s not like I could take the phone in the shower with me,” I informed Jake.
“Nope.” He rang the doorbell and wiggled his eyebrows at me. “But you could have always taken me in the shower with you.”
I shook my head at him and tugged at the blue sundress I was wearing. Like Jake, my parents always teased me about my black clothes—I was suddenly nervous about their reaction to my new outfit. Would they act the same way they did when I ate all that take-out a few weeks ago? Staring at me like I was some sort of alien for the whole night? After all the years of being purposefully unobtrusive everywhere but the stage, I was still getting used to the kind of attention I was getting from everyone around me.
Not like Jake, who looked totally comfortable and not at all flustered about meeting the parents of the girl he was . . . what were we exactly? Dating sounded too casual. Boyfriend and girlfriend seemed too childish. Lovers sounded too literary. And what did I want us to be? We had just met but already I trusted him. In a way I had never trusted anyone before.
I glanced over at Jake who didn’t seem nervous at all. What did he think about us? Was what I was feeling just simple infatuation—fueled by sex and kindness? Or was it something more? We heard footsteps coming our way and Jake shifted the bottle of wine in his hand and gave me a smile. I took a breath and held it.
The door flew open and there was my mother, wearing her brightest caftan, the crystals around her neck jangling.
“Ella!” She gathered me into a hug. “You didn’t have to ring the bell.” She pulled back and regarded me at arm’s length. “Blue is a gorgeous color on you. Don’t you agree?” she asked Jake. I could tell she was testing him—the same way she had tested Mark. Mark had failed.
“I think every color is a gorgeous color on her,” Jake replied smoothly.
My mother’s face split into a grin. “I like you,” she told him. “What was your name again?”
“This is Jake, Mom,” I informed her, even though I had no doubt that she knew.
“Well, Jake, I’m Helen.” My mom looped her arms through Jake’s. “Let’s introduce you to the others and get you settled.”
“Mom,” I warned, knowing exactly what she meant when she said “settled”.
“Oh, come on, Ella.” My mom pulled Jake into the house. “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. Do you like brownies, Jake?” She began leading him towards the kitchen.
“Of course.” Jake gave me a curious glance.
I rolled my eyes. “She’s trying to offer you a pot brownie,” I told him, glad I had warned him about my parents’ habits before we had arrived.
“Oh!” he laughed. “I do like brownies,” he informed my mom as we entered the kitchen. “But I prefer mine laced with chocolate, not anything else.”
“Oh well.” My mom released him and grabbed a brownie off the kitchen island. Breaking off a tiny piece, she popped it in her mouth. “If you change your mind.” She winked at him and swept off presumably to find my dad and Nina.
“I am so sorry.” I turned to Jake. “I had no idea they were going to get high tonight.”
“It’s fine. I have plenty of friends who partake.” He picked up a brownie, sniffed, and put it down. “At least your folks seem to invest in the high quality stuff.”
“Jake!” my father’s voice boomed as he came into the kitchen. “So good to meet you!” he gave Jake a hearty handshake. “Ella rarely brings her gentlemen friends home.”
“Dad!” Nina shrieked from the hallway. “Did you just crop dust me? That was nasty!”
My dad snickered.
For god sakes, I thought, had my entire family gone completely off their rockers tonight? Not that they were ever remotely well-behaved around the guests I brought home, but this was bonkers, even for them. Pot brownies, fart jokes, what was going to be next? I held my breath as Nina en
tered the kitchen, praying that she hadn’t returned to her brief but incredibly awkward attempt at being a nudist.
Thankfully, she was fully dressed. Holding her nose and wearing some bright neon leotard thing, but fully dressed.
“You are gross,” she told my dad who was still smirking. “Hi, Jake.” She came over and gave him a hug as if they were old friends.
“Uh, hi.” He looked at me over her shoulder.
Nina, I mouthed and then pointed to my dad. Frank. I couldn’t even count on them to make proper introductions.
“Ooh!” Nina had released Jake and in the process noticed the wine he was carrying. “Nice!”
“Let’s have some.” I took it from his hands. It was more for myself then anyone—my family was already socially lubricated. Too socially lubricated, in fact, but a glass of wine might make it seem less ridiculous.
I went around the kitchen island to get the wine opener. I struggled with the label for a couple of seconds before a warm hand covered mine.
“Let me,” Jake said and with a few smooth gestures had unwrapped and uncorked the wine. “Glasses?” he asked and I grabbed them from the cabinet. He poured me a nice, generous glass and one slightly less generous for himself. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.
I took a nice long sip as Jake poured for my parents and Nina.
“Great flavor,” my dad said, as if he was a wine expert of some sort.
My mom was staring at Jake, though.
“Are you a Leo?” she asked him.
“Mom,” I said warningly, but she ignored me.
“You are, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Jake confirmed.
“I knew it!” she crowed. Looking down at the dozens of crystals she had around her neck, she untangled one and pulled it over her head. It was red, much like the one she had given me last time. “This is for you.” She handed it to Jake. “It will help center you, when you need it.”