by Lexi Blake
“You going to take care of her with that tiny dick of yours?” Rafe rasped out.
Greg’s head swung around to look at Rafe. “What the fuck did you say?”
Rafe’s lips curved up in a bloody grin. “I heard some of the women at that club your boss runs talking about what a tiny little needle dick you have.”
She gasped as Greg’s booted foot came out and then met Rafe’s gut with a horrific thud.
“You want to say that again, asshole?” Greg asked, his attention focused wholly on his victim.
Thereby giving her the time she needed to get that sucker open. Rafe knew what she was holding, too. He was trying to cover for her. Rafe said something truly terrible to the man and Greg went at him again.
She got the kit opened, unrolling it quickly. Javier had two boning knives, one for fish and poultry, a second with a stiffer blade for pork and beef. Six inches long, it would be far easier to handle than the chef knife.
She shoved the kit back onto the table and thanked the universe for men who thought anything with breasts was harmless and something to turn one’s back on. And she silently thanked Rafe for taking one for the team. Hard.
Greg kicked him in the gut.
Jules took that moment to stab him in the right arm, the powerful knife slicing through muscle and sinew exactly as it was supposed to.
And her opponent did what came naturally when one’s arm was being assaulted. His hand lost its grip, dropping the gun as he shouted out.
Jules started to go for the weapon, but Rafe had it in his hands, and he proved he hadn’t spent all that time in the military for nothing either.
Rafe rolled and raised his hand and took the shot.
Greg stumbled back, his hand on his chest, trying to stop the blood.
Mac showed up in the doorway, pointing his gun toward Jules first.
It didn’t matter. Javier was on his back, his arm going around Mac’s neck in a choke hold.
Rafe reached out and dragged Jules to the floor, trying to cover her with his body. “Stay down. Let Javier take care of him. He’s good at this. I should know. The little shit perfected it on me when we used to wrestle.”
She needed to get up, to help Javi. The problem was while Rafe might not like to use what was left of his legs, he had some serious upper-body strength.
There was a thud and then Javier was standing over her, his face pale. He reached out, hauling her up.
“I thought I told you to let me handle it,” he said, dragging her close.
“You also told me I was good with knives.” She was shaking, the adrenaline still coursing through her.
The door came open and all heads turned.
Mrs. Gleeson stood there in her gown, a shotgun in her hand. She looked around the room. “Did you leave any for me?”
“Damn it, old woman.” Mr. Cassidy ran in, adjusting his glasses. There was a cell phone in his hand. “I told you to wait for the police.”
Javier sighed and squeezed her tight as they heard the sirens.
She held on, promising herself she would never let go again.
Chapter Eleven
“You sure you want to close up?” Sean Taggart crossed his arms over his chest and frowned Javier’s way. “You had a long day. I don’t mind finishing up here.”
Long day? It had been a heinous day. First there had been the police to deal with. Then he’d had to deal with Rafael. That was even worse than the police because he’d had to deal with Rafe on his own. While he’d dealt with the police and watched his brother’s drug dealers get hauled off, he’d had Jules at his side. When they’d left and he’d been forced to confront his brother, he’d asked her to leave.
He was fairly certain that had hurt her. Something he’d promised never to do again, but then he was also the man who’d promised not to put her in danger and he’d forced her to stab a criminal.
“It’s your date night with Grace,” he replied. “I can handle it by myself. I’ll reconcile the books and lock up.”
Sean put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate it. And I wouldn’t call it a date night so much as a play night. We’re going to spend some time in the pool house. I can’t make it to Sanctum this weekend. Our little space will have to do. Grace’s mom has the kids for the night. With two young kids, we don’t get to play much. That’s my advice to you. Play as much as you can before the babies start coming.”
“I don’t think that’s happening any time soon.” Jules had barely spoken to him all night. She’d texted him in the afternoon, explaining she was going in early, and then she’d been polite all evening long. Jules had done exactly what she should have done—concentrated on her job. It was what he needed to do now.
Now that Rafe was in rehab. He’d managed to get his brother to commit to a 21-day program. From there they would have to see.
He’d called Sonja and she’d even promised to come in for family therapy.
“These things happen when you least expect them, my friend. Hey, how did the new girl do?”
Javier forced himself to smile. “She was great.”
Sean shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. She wasted a couple of bell peppers and the chop on those potatoes had to be redone twice. It was a good thing she came in early. She’s going to have to practice hours a day.”
“She’s trying. She’ll be amazing one day. You’ll see.” He wasn’t sure he liked how negative Sean was being.
“I’m just saying, she’s your employee. She’s yours to deal with, and I don’t think you should go easy on her. I think she wants something entirely different,” Sean said enigmatically. “The books are in my office. Make sure you clean up when you’re done. I’m serious about that. You’ll be the one in trouble if that office isn’t pristine. And use the anti bac. Everyone freaking knows where it is.”
Why would he need anti bac to enter the daily numbers into the system and check inventory?
He didn’t ask. Chef could be weird and as sarcastic as his older brother when he wanted to be.
Eventually he was sure Jules would want to talk to him, but it looked like she’d given up for the time being. And that was a good thing. At least that’s what he told himself.
She’d cleaned up her station and then he hadn’t seen her after that.
How had she gotten home? He hadn’t seen her car. Had she taken the train and walked two blocks by herself? Hopefully one of the guys who took the train had been with her for that part. He knew she could take care of herself, but bad shit happened and he couldn’t stand to think about it happening to her.
He closed the blinds and turned off the inner lights. He would go out the back way where his truck was parked.
He couldn’t help but look at the spot where he’d danced with Jules the day before. He’d held her and said good-bye because he couldn’t do anything else.
The only woman he would ever love.
He’d made the right choice. They both needed to focus on work. He had to help his brother. He was certain the last thing Jules needed was more sad-sack therapy sessions, and that’s what she would get because if he’d stayed with her, he would be in deep and he wouldn’t have pretended. Jules would be his family and he would want her with him always. He would want to talk to her and have her help him figure out what to do. Meet his mother and his little niece.
It didn’t matter what he wanted because he fully intended to back her play from today.
When she finally came to him and said she thought they should talk, he would sit down with her and graciously let her go.
And if she was still here when his family got their shit sorted out, he would go after her like she’d never been gone after before. If she wasn’t smart enough to get away from him, he would catch her and hold her and never let her go. A year. Maybe in a year he could get everything together so he would have something real to give her. A home. A family that wasn’t fucked up beyond all recognition. A life he would be proud to share with her.
He moved b
ack to Chef’s office and opened the door, ready to spend an hour on the boring shit, but this was what it took to run a restaurant. One day he would have his own and he would know the boring crap because Sean Taggart made him learn it.
He opened the door and stopped in his tracks because he wasn’t alone.
Juliana was sitting on the leather couch, a towel under her. She needed the towel because she was completely and utterly naked. She sat there with her red hair spilling over her shoulders. It curled around her breasts, nipples peeking through. Her long legs were crossed so he couldn’t see her pussy, but he knew how lovely it was, knew he would see it soon.
Because fuck waiting. She was here. She was naked and offering herself to him, and all the reasons he wasn’t going to do this were gone, and not because of his dick. His dick could wait.
His heart…that was another impatient bastard altogether.
“I know you think we should wait,” she began.
He was walking toward her and she stood suddenly, her eyes wide and startled, as though she wasn’t sure what he would do next. Did she think he would throw her out? Think he would impose his will on her?
He needed her too fucking much.
He strode to her, not stopping until he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. He breathed in her unique scent. This was what he’d needed for hours and hours. For days. For his entire fucking life.
Jules’s hugged him tight and she rubbed her cheek against his. “I thought you might be mad.”
“I’m not, but I am weak. I know this is not a good time, but, baby, I’m not going to be able to let you go.”
“You shouldn’t. This is the perfect time, Javi. You need me and there’s absolutely nowhere in the world I would rather be. I hated the fact that you sent me home this morning. My home is at your side. Nowhere else.”
His parents hadn’t hesitated to lean on each other. He was letting what happened to his brother’s marriage affect his relationship with Juliana, but that wasn’t the marriage he should look to. His parents had been steadfast and loving through many bad times. They hadn’t tried to shove the other away. They had clung to each other, halving the burdens, doubling the joys of life.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I’m not ever letting you go again. I promise.”
“If you do, I’ll come after you.”
And he knew how good she was getting with knives. “I’ll remember that.”
He kissed her forehead and stepped back.
She’d promised him something else. She’d promised him after-hours play, and now he understood what Sean had meant by playing as much as they could before those pesky, amazing babies started coming. Babies who would have their mother’s spirit. Babies who would make everything difficult and awesome and worthwhile.
But for now, they could play.
“How many peppers did you waste tonight?”
Her eyes flared and then dropped in submission. He watched as her whole body relaxed, knowing it was going to get something so fucking good. “Far too many, Chef, but please remember I’m learning.”
He walked slowly around her, inspecting that gorgeous body of hers. She’d ditched her prosthetic. He loved that she was comfortable around him without it. She should be. There wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t pure perfection to him. Every scar was proof of her strength, and he loved them all. “Yes, and part of your learning must be discipline. I thought I was clear about that.”
She looked up, her eyes alight with mischief. “I thought this part was totally my idea.”
Brat. “How quickly you forget. I believe I introduced you to role-play, sweetheart.”
“But I’m perfecting it. When you think about it, it’s kind of like our relationship in the kitchen. You come up with a decent idea for a dish and I make it better.”
So very arrogant, and it was good to see. A chef had to have some arrogance in her. One day, they would work side by side. She would catch up and possibly surpass him, and it would be a glorious fight that would always end in the bedroom or the dining room or the broom closet. Wherever it was easiest to get inside her.
“I think we’re going to have to talk about how quick you are to criticize my dishes.” He let his voice go low. “One thing I’m going to insist on from you is respect.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O. “Babe, I was joking.”
“And I’m playing, which proved I’m so much better at it than you.”
She relaxed and he saw her smile before she let her eyes find the floor again. “Yes, Chef. I truly do respect you. I hope you’ll allow me to show you how much I respect you.”
He could think of a few ways she could show him. “I believe you owe me at least twenty.” Not a lot. Just barely enough to get her ass warm. She was still a playful tourist. One day she would be able to take fifty and beg him for more. “Place your elbows on the desk and show me that perfect ass.”
She moved to the desk, lowering herself down and presenting her ass to him. “Like this, Chef?”
He put a hand on her, loving the thrum of connection he felt the minute he touched her. His body came alive when she walked in a room, but he swore he could feel his blood begin to pound when he touched her. He let his hands skim her skin, running over her backside. “Yes, this will do. Spread your legs wider.”
She took a deep breath and eased her legs open until he could step between them. “Better?”
He had access to her pussy. That made everything better. “Yes. You don’t have to stay silent. No one’s here. If you feel the need to cry out, do so. It won’t bother me at all.”
“Sadist,” she said under her breath.
Oh, tomorrow she was getting some nipple clamps. He brought his hand back and smacked her backside hard.
He was rewarded with a squeal and some pretty squirming.
“You should be happy I’m in such a good mood,” he said as he spanked her again. And again. And again.
Her lovely skin was a rosy pink after ten.
Her chest shuddered as she dragged in a breath. Her face rested on one side and he could see she was biting her bottom lip. She whimpered and her breath fluttered out. He would bet her nipples would be hard and wanting.
“Where are you?” He wanted to be sure. They’d played so little that he couldn’t know one hundred percent that she was with him. After they’d had a hundred sessions, he would be able to read her every move, every breath to tell if she was close to the edge or needed something different entirely.
And he’d likely still want to hear the words from her mouth.
“I’m dying. It hurts and it’s not enough. It’s slow torture because I can’t wait to get to what comes next. I’ve wanted this all night. It was difficult to keep my mind on my work because I knew we would be here in a few hours.”
She’d thought about this all night? He’d been morose and she’d been waiting in anticipation. His hand came down. Five quick smacks. “Next time, mention it to your Master that you intend to rock his world.”
“I thought that might send you running,” she admitted on a cry.
“I have zero self-control when it comes to you. I think I would have done exactly what I did when I walked into this room.” Of course, then he would have had a horrible hard-on all night, so maybe he owed her. Not that he would tell her that.
“I’ll remember that next time,” she vowed over the sound of his hand smacking her ass. “Next time, I’ll make sure you know exactly what’s waiting for you at the end of a long, hard day.”
Long and hard described him perfectly, and it was time to do something about that.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her stand, letting his erection rub against the ass he’d just warmed up beautifully.
She leaned back into him, allowing him to run his hands up her body to cup her breasts. There were those perky nipples and yes, they were hard against his palms. That ass he’d smacked rubbed and cuddled up against his hard-on, getting him even harder.
“I’m sure you’re going to make things very difficult for me in the kitchen occasionally, but you should know that I’ll be more than happy to take it out on your pretty ass every single time,” he promised. “Now I need to know something. How did you like that spanking? Do you think it’s going to help you to be better tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, Chef,” she admitted, her voice husky. “I think I need more.”
He needed so much more. He couldn’t stop until he’d had it all. Everything she had to give him. “I don’t know if you’re ready for more. I’m going to need you to prove it to me. How can I know the spanking did what it was supposed to do if you don’t show me?”
He released her and stepped back, giving her plenty of space.
She turned. “I assure you, Chef. I’m one dish that is perfectly ready to be served.”
“How can I know until you give me a little taste?”
“Well, I don’t have a spoon for you,” she said. “But I’ve been reminded lately that adaptation can be good for the soul.”
She ran her hand down her body, letting her palm run between her breasts and down her belly, and lower. One single finger ran across her glistening clitoris and between her labia. When she brought it up, that finger was coated in her own arousal. She crossed the space between them and offered it up to her Master. “I think you’ll find this to your liking, Chef.”
Oh, he found everything about her to his liking. There was nothing he would change. He gripped her wrist gently and brought her hand to his lips. He sucked her finger into his mouth, her unique flavor coating his tongue. He made sure he didn’t leave a single drop behind.
“Yes, I think that’s perfectly prepared, but you know sometimes you have to let a dish rest for a few minutes,” he said because he wasn’t ready to dive in yet. He wanted to make it last. “I think I need you to make sure I’m ready, too.”
“You aren’t ready at all, Chef.” Her hands went to his T-shirt. He’d shed his jacket before cleanup. “Should I help you?”