by Ryli Jordan
As I watched him, eying me with a calm and attentive little smirk, I couldn’t help but wonder aloud…
“Did you make this for me?”
He laughed. “Why would I spoil the moment by telling you something like that…even if I did?”
“So did you?”
“It doesn’t really matter. As long as you like it and are happily eating ever after, that’s all I care about. Doesn’t matter if I make it or an inferior chef does.”
I laughed. “Well…if you made it specially for me…”
“How could I? I’ve been with you the whole time. The cook is what matters you know…recipes come and go.”
“Oh that’s a change! You’re just being funny now.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said with a content smile.
“I like…everything about you, Mister Free. I’m still waiting for the big revelation that you’re some evil chef that wants to take over the world.”
“I am, but only in a nice way.”
We both laughed. I didn’t feel comfortable at the way I was looking at him. Too attached, a little too dreamy. I couldn’t stop myself from falling. And yet I had to wonder if I was really enough for him.
“What if you get tired of one woman? Isn’t variety the spice of life?”
He lost his smile, mirroring my own face. “Well there’s cooking…and then there’s life.” He said in a warm voice and sweet smile. “Hey, I want you and you only. You worry too much. When you taste a new entrée for the first time, you’re not thinking about dessert, are you? You need to savor the first taste. You’re never going to taste anything like the first bite ever again. And it doesn’t taste the same to any two people. It’s a brand new experience. Life is just a mash up of wonderful memories, isn’t it? New and intense experiences we’ve never tried.”
I nodded, staring back at him, smiling and blushing red this time, but at a loss for words. Satisfied with the answer, but always wondering three steps ahead. These were the finest moments in life…maybe the finest moments of any future relationship we could hope to forge.
“Is there anything else new and intense you’d like to experience?”
I smiled…and winked, definitely thinking of a few.
Chapter 12
Knox
“Oh! Please! Don’t Stooooppppp! Please! Don’t Stop! Yes!” Staci screamed, rolling around in bed as I fucked her naked body with a vengeance. Her hands were tied up in bed restraints and there was nowhere for me to go but wetter and deeper into her arousal. My body wanted to savor her pussy over and over—my nerves were on edge and throbbing, a fiery sensation developing in my groin.
Her body shook back and forth like she was falling from an earthquake, but I held strong, never releasing the pressure that was consuming me internally. Every heart-pounding minute, she groaned and yelped loudly constantly yanking the restraints but still unable to move more than a half an inch. Her nipples were taut by the velvet clamps I bought her and pinching my gorgeous goddess. Her whole body was writhing, as if being tortured, but in the most generous of ways.
She had orgasm after orgasm, especially when I grabbed her ass cheeks firmly and pushed myself in deeper. I reached sensitive spots so deep I could feel her walls squeeze, clenching my dick inside. She was coming like a machine. I knew the hotel walls were thick so she could scream as loud as she wanted. Whenever she wanted relief, she got none—only twice as much pressure and cock pounding.
I even told her at the beginning of our very long and extended session, I don’t practice BDSM and would never bring her pain, only pleasure. No safe word needed, no calling me master. It was the opposite; I was her slave, wanting to please her body even more than I was her slave, wanting to please her body even more than mine. I adored her but as each minute passed, I knew she enjoyed the waves of stimulation and the velvet restraints. Nothing wrong with a little spice in the bedroom. Staci wanted to push herself to the brink. I wanted to bring things out of her I had never thought were there.
All her previous lovers never tried so hard, never knew all the fantastic things I knew how to please her. I knew her body like I knew my own. I knew “making love” was too normal for her and she needed me to talk filthy and fuck her senseless every now and then.
I had to think carefully about what I wanted to do to her next. And it wasn’t going to be love making.
Chapter 13
Staci
I knew Knox hadn’t climax yet, but he loosened the restraints.
“Get on your hands and knees, ass up baby,” Knox growled.
He licked my clit and lapped his tongue pass the pussy hole teasing my perineum. Then I felt his tongue circling the opening of my anus. His saliva dripped inside the hole and I when into another full body, violently shaking, orgasm that was just so naughty and perfectly timed. He lashed my ass with his tongue that sent me into oblivion—screaming his name and putting me into a trance. I came so hard I cried. It was the first time I had ever associated tears with a positive experience.
My other lovers, Blake in particular, wanted so badly to be the man that would “take me there” to places I had never been. But Knox understood finally…the best way to please me and make me experience all these new sensations was to take it slow. To earn my trust. To involve my mind and heart…and that’s why he pushed me to limits that no man would ever again.
He inserted his dick from behind, grabbing my ass, he quickly came. We collided onto the bed, the velvet cuffs witnessing our afterglow. “I can’t believe I stayed mad at you so long…” I giggled. “I was missing out on all this.”
“Not to mention some delicious meals,” he laughed.
“You are too perfect. No wonder everyone’s intimidated by you.”
I kissed him long and thirstily, as he removed the nipple clamps, the feeling of radiance rushed through our shivering bodies. I loved the feeling of rubbing my nose on his chest, kissing his nipples, taking in his scent as vividly as a wine connoisseur, right before tasting him several times, nice and thickly, like the real foodie I was. I desired to know Ken more intimately. Like a gateway drug, loving him was serious and costly, as far as my heart was concerned.
My attraction for him only grew, whereas I really thought if he had sex a few dozen times, he or I would get tired. Instead, he constantly challenged me, even while keeping me comfortable in his arms. I felt safe and protected, treasured, and free.
When we took a plane home from our fantastic vacation, we enjoyed a few wordless hours together. He held my hand like we were an old married couple and it felt new and amazing—just as kinky as anything we tried in the bedroom. Hell, I thought, even if the plane crashed that night, I would have no regrets. And I couldn’t imagine any finer set of memories to latch onto as I make the great journey into the hereafter, than what we just experienced.
When we got home, saying goodbye felt awkward. We both had our lives, our careers and our own agendas. I had already dropped him as a client. We both avoided the conversation of commitment or “back together” superstitiously. He was afraid to seem too interested, less I back off again, and I was too paranoid about chasing him away. We had invested so much already.
I told him I needed a good night’s sleep alone and he took it well. But I didn’t really sleep that much. I just thought about everything…the week rushing through my mind. So many images, sensations and frantic thoughts overwhelming me.
***
Maybe the old stalker Knox was still active. How did he know that I was too anxious to go to work the next Monday? Instead, I stayed home and tried not to freak out. Things were going well. It was a great trip…and yet all I felt was that I missed him. I wanted things to stay the way they were in Hawaii. I had silly fantasies about the two of us just hanging around at his house, or my house, and gloriously wasting time…cooking, watching TV or reading books. Talking. Sex. Swimming. The fun we could have, if only things were slightly different.
As if reading my mind and feeling my anguish, Knox
showed up after work hours, just as the sun was setting. I answered the door, a bewildered expression on my face, somewhere in the range of crying and annoyance. I wanted him here…and yet the fact that he felt so entitled to show up irked me. All I could say to his smirking face standing in my doorway so late was…
“What…are you that horny you can’t leave me along for five minutes?”
He thought about it.
“Yes.”
“All right,” I said, amused that he used any excuse that would work, just to cheat another few minutes in my presence.
After another long session of sex and a series of kisses, I began piquing his mind, enjoying our softer moments of rambling.
“I like you here, you know I do.”
“Well if your vocals are any indication, I know you do. You could win a Grammy, baby.”
“Hush!” I said love slapping his shoulder. “I’m just wondering if I’m keeping you. You have an empire to run. And our agency has wanted to talk to you for a while now.”
“Right. I know. I really do love doing for others, you know that. But when you left I felt bereft of joy. We really do make a good team, you know.” Knox said.
“Oh? You want me back in charge?”
“I want you in my life. I don’t care if it’s work or play. I just grow despondent and nihilistic when you’re not around.”
“Just hypothetically…” I smiled. “So what if people started talking about us? If the media knew who I was. Wouldn’t that be damaging to your reputation?”
“Damaging? Are you kidding? Those fools love a good romance. Especially when one of them is a chef.”
“Really though. I mean…I’m not like those other girls. Celebrities. Groupies. Models.”
“Of course not…you’re better. You have a real body and a real mind. Everything about you is real.” He took me in his arms and kissed me, reminding me just how real this was. This moment was real…a once in a lifetime kiss. We would never have another moment exactly like this. I was learning to savor the taste of each new moment, spent cradled in his arms.
“And why am I better?” I said, my mind going to dark places.
“Tell you what,” he said, staring me down, knowing I was raining on his happy parade. “I’ll show you just how beautiful you are. Let’s go public with our relationship.”
“No way,” I said, intrigued but a bit nervous.
“Why not? I’m going to a charity ball this weekend. I want the cameras to feature you and I, arm and arm. I want the world to whisper…who is this mysterious woman that owns Knox’s heart?”
“Me in front of cameras?” I said with a laugh. “I don’t know…”
“I want you to be there. Not only because you are gorgeous, but because you’re a real woman, Staci Abrahams.”
“I don’t want to be the reason your empire crumbles, Mister Knox,” I said with a calm smile.
“I don’t care about any of it. I never cared a shit for any of it, until you told me what good it could do. For others. For someone who appreciates it. You told me so, Staci-Belle. Sometimes…not often…but sometimes I listen.”
I flinched, pondering the possibilities.
***
“We’re here interviewing some of the A-list guests scheduled to arrive at the Wayton Christmas Ball. Tonight, the guest of honor, the social media phenomenon Chef Knox, Kenneth Free, who’s been all over the news recently for his ‘lost love connection’. You may remember him talking about the mystery woman who owned his heart when he first made an appearance, then further appearances on other talk shows. But the biggest news is that Chef Knox may have actually found his true love. Because earlier today we spotted him walking arm and arm with a mystery woman.”
The moment right before I walked out was so nerve-wracking! Like walking a tight rope, just one trip away from falling to my humiliation. I smiled wide and teethy—but always careful not to give a look of helplessness or fear. They wanted me to be Miss Knox—the mystery woman capable of charming the rowdiest guy on the globe. I had to give them a little bit of a show.
When they spoke to me, I remembered to control my voice, speak a little slower than normal, and always look the reporter in the eye. I had given presentations before, but knowing that millions of people were watching me—envying me—and evaluating me was an adrenaline rush like nothing I ever felt. I almost don’t remember the words I used. I vaguely remember the feeling—somewhere between elation and dread.
The reporter talked to me first, shoving a microphone in my face and speaking at me with the most loaded and evil-looking eyes I had ever seen before. I knew whatever I said next had to be perfect—Knox quality television.
“I have known Chef Knox for some time,” I said with a smile befitting the Queen of England. “He makes a mean casserole.”
A few people laughed and even the reporter giggled.
“Come on! You’re the talk of the social media world. Don’t you have something to give us? What is Knox really like?”
“He’s a wonderful man. Hard working, handsome and driven to succeed. The world is lucky to have such a talented culinary artist.”
“And how about you, Miss Abrahams? That’s your name, right?”
“Correct,” I said with a polite nod.
“Are you lucky to have him?”
“We’re both lucky. It’s always so magical when two soul mates meet, isn’t it?”
“She’s very mysterious, isn’t she, Chef Knox?”
Knox, of course, was use to the camera and couldn’t resist goofing off.
“Well she is but you know an even greater issue we still haven’t talked about. My new book…”
He grinned as he mischievously shoved a copy of his newest book right at the camera. “‘Opportunity Knox’” by Kenneth Free. I hear it’s a great book, filled with wonderful recipes, hilarious stories, and lots of human interest stuff about my past too. Better than Like Water for Chocolate. That’s what Julia Child said!”
The reporter laughed and finally let us go since they seem to hate when we’re the ones broadcasting invasive things. The night really was magical. It was like a dream happening in reality or like the final pages of a book that I was living.
For once, at least once, I didn’t even worry about tomorrow. This was our day, our triumph. We both succeeded and indeed, we were both the lucky ones, that we respected each other and adored each other’s company, no matter where we were—in front of the camera or off, eating a home cooked meal, or visiting an island for vacation. Knox was the best date I ever had or would ever hope to have, for the rest of my life.
But as I soon discovered…happiness and compatibility is only step one to making a relationship last.
Chapter 14
Knox
Sex. I’m not saying sex is the cure-all for depression and the answer to world peace, but damn I was going to do my part! A lack of sex brings about loneliness. Loneliness leads to depression or aggression. But a man who is well fucked is a credit to the humanity and has nothing on his mind except doing good things for others. Goodwill towards men! Santa Claus must be getting laid nice by Mrs. Claus for him to be so damned jolly all the time!
When I was with other women the goodbye at the end of the romp was always the most painful part. But with Staci it’s something beautifully different. She’s just as insatiably horny as I am. She trusts as deeply as I do. And yes, she even hates the idea of being apart from me for too many days in a row. We’ve become addicted to each other’s scent and taste.
And the harder we work, the harder we play. The more sex we have, the more we crave it, the further we want to push our boundaries of exploration. It never gets old. We’re both merely the vessels and our minds are always imaginative, always thirsting for more.
Of course, real life also happened, and one of the benefits of our grand television appearance as a couple is that Staci Abrahams’ name really came into its own. Rather than hurt her career, her public association with me—not to mention
her “mysterious aura” as the woman who tamed Knox’s heart—really helped boost her profile. She made public appearances, gave speeches and promoted her company all over the world.
The reporters didn’t even ask her about me because she was going all J-Lo on me. And no, believe it or not, I really didn’t give a fuck about her rise to stardom, as if it’s a bad thing for me. I actually just grinned in amusement all the times the reporters paid her more attention than the old flavor of the month Chef Knox. They treated her like Cleopatra, or the Queen, a woman impressed by love, passionate about life, but driven by success.
Staci dumping me as a client but then appearing with me out in public was actually the best career move she ever made. In the months following, her work demands increased. She even dropped subtle hints, suggesting that all this increased workload wasn’t for nothing.
I think deep down she was worried that I was jealous or feeling cranky that I was seeing less of her during the week. But actually, I wasn’t. I had my hands full with my own work, opening two more international restaurants in my chain, thanks to my new accounts manager, still working with Staci’s agency.
I did treasure the time we spent together via text. But with more work, more humanitarian projects, our lives became well-rounded. And we still got together on the weekend and bonked our brains out.
We were speeding down the freeway of life and with no brakes. Was something bound to give? Was something dreadful coming our way or was just our collective pessimism talking?
As determined as I was to support Staci in her career, we did hit a major roadblock in the Spring. I still remember the day she came to my home, very cautiously happy about the good news.
“Well,” she said, smiling in an empty way. “I have some weird news.”
“That’s always the best kind.”
“I’m being considered for a promotion.”
“That’s wonderful Staci-Belle!”
“Like a really big promotion. And it’s between me and only two other people. I…I know these people. I’m better than they are, Ken!”