Recipe for Temptation

by Maureen Smith

  Long moments later, they were still grinning and shaking their heads at each other.

  “All kidding aside,” Michael said, sobering. “Thanks for helping out tonight. That was totally…unexpected.”

  Reese shrugged dismissively. “I figured it was the least I could do, after I sat around all night stuffing my face while everyone else busted their asses.”

  He smiled a little. “Seriously though, Reese. It was a very thoughtful gesture, and I could tell it really meant a lot to my staff. So…thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” The earnestness in his voice made her heart do a weird fluttering thing. Gazing at him, she blurted impetuously, “I think you’re amazing.”

  Something soft flickered in his dark eyes.

  Her face flushed, and she hastened to elaborate. “I mean, uh, the way you interact with your crew is amazing. You guys have such amazing chemistry. Cohesion. It was like watching a beautifully choreographed ballet—except with noise and shooting flames from a grill.”

  Michael chuckled. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put it quite that way before.”

  “No?” She grinned. “Maybe I should be a restaurant critic.”

  They looked at each other, then laughed. Reese marveled that they could find humor in something that had nearly led to bloodshed just a week ago.

  “Hey,” she said, struck by a sudden realization. “I ate here for the first time last Tuesday!”

  “I know.” Michael smiled lazily at her. “I thought you’d remember that when I told you Tuesdays were slow.”

  She grinned ruefully. “I wasn’t thinking about that. I was too busy trying to weasel my way out of leaving the house.”

  “Aren’t you glad I didn’t let you?”

  “I am. I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. Being able to watch you guys at work was a real treat. And speaking of treats, everything was absolutely delicious, Michael. The bourbon-glazed pork tenderloin was to die for. And that Kahlua mousse made by your pastry chef was divine. I have to get the recipe.”

  Michael chuckled drily. “Considering that Gerard has a crush on you, he’d probably give you any recipe you wanted. In all the years he’s worked here, I’ve never seen him make a special dessert for anyone.”

  Reese sighed. “After one taste of that mousse, I think I fell a little in love myself.”

  “Well, hell, if that’s all it takes, wait till you try my triple chocolate cheesecake.”

  “Mmmm.” She gave him a demure smile. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you, Michael?”

  His gaze darkened. “Maybe I am.”

  Reese stared at him, her heart thudding.

  Slowly, one by one, he removed his feet from the table and sat up in the chair.

  She didn’t know who moved first.

  It must have been her, for the next thing she knew, she was straddling his lap as they kissed deeply and feverishly. She locked her fingers behind his nape and sucked his lush bottom lip into her mouth, making him groan hoarsely. He shoved her flirty summer skirt up her thighs and ran his hands up to her hips, where he held her tightly against his raging erection. She moaned and writhed desperately against him.

  Breaking the kiss, he yanked off her halter top and deftly unfastened the front hook of her bra. Her full breasts spilled into his hands, her nipples already distended with arousal. He made a feral sound deep in his throat and cupped her, massaging and caressing.

  She cried out with shocked pleasure as his mouth came down to suck in a nipple. Heat pooled between her legs.

  Abruptly he surged to his feet and lifted her onto the high table. She spread her thighs eagerly and he stepped between them. She shrugged off her bra, let it fall away.

  Gazes locked, they both attacked the knotted buttons on his chef’s jacket. There were double rows of them. Way too damn many. Reese cursed in frustration, her fingers fumbling in her urgency to get at his skin. Even with his own hands flying over the buttons with practiced efficiency, it wasn’t fast enough for her.

  “Hurry,” she pleaded in a breathless, lusty voice she hardly recognized as her own.

  “Hurry.”

  Michael laughed, dark and wicked.

  She crooned with exhilaration as he tore the jacket off his broad shoulders and tossed it aside. Seeing that he wore a white T-shirt underneath, she scowled at yet another barrier. Together she and Michael tugged the shirt up and over his head. And then he was on display for her, his wide, powerful chest ridged with muscle beneath glorious mahogany skin. In helpless fascination, she ran her hands over him, her fingers grazing the intricate tattoo that curled around his muscled bicep. He watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, a faint tremor passing through him as she slowly traced the ink outline of Greek letters.

  He lowered his head and took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, whispering, “I love the way you touch me.”

  “And I love to touch you,” she whispered back.

  He groaned, his eyes glittering with fierce arousal as he pushed her skirt out of the way. She raised her hips a little as he pulled her panties down over her hips and off her legs. She watched as he brought the scrap of black lace to his nose and inhaled, his eyes rolling closed as he savored her scent. It was such an erotic gesture that she nearly came out of her skin, her blood heated so fast.

  He set her panties down on the table, as if he wanted to keep them within easy reach. Holding her gaze, he trailed his middle finger up her inner thigh, leaving a path of scorched nerve endings. She gasped as he stroked her clitoris, which was as hard and erect as her nipples. He didn’t taunt her this time about the hot river of need that flowed between her thighs. Tonight wasn’t about scoring points.

  Tonight was about heeding raw animal instinct.

  Reese didn’t want a gentle seduction. She wanted hard, fast pounding, a driving rhythm that would quench the fire raging in her blood. And she knew that this man could—

  and would—deliver.

  She went for his belt at the same time he did, their fingers tangling in their haste to get him unbuckled and unzipped. She shoved down his dark trousers and briefs, gasping as his penis sprang free. It was impressively long, thick and hard. The swollen head glistened with pre-come, and a solitary vein bulged beneath the granite-smooth dark skin. It was the most beautiful thing Reese had ever seen. Her loins contracted in hungry response.

  But before she could reach down to stroke him, he dug inside his pants pocket and fished out his wallet. She almost sobbed with relief when she saw the flash of a foil packet.

  He ripped it open with his teeth and quickly smoothed the condom over his erection. She moaned and shamelessly rubbed her hips against him, desperate to have him inside her.

  She’d waited long enough, past the point of endurance.

  As he dragged her to the very edge of the table, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clamped her thighs around his hips. They stared into each other’s eyes as he slid slowly into her. She cried out at the exquisite fullness of him, stretching her as he seated himself to the hilt.

  A shudder ripped through his big body and he groaned. Bracing his arms on either side of her on the table, he closed his eyes in an expression of unadulterated ecstasy.

  Reese tightened her thighs around him, savoring the profound intimacy of the moment. A moment unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

  Slowly his eyes opened and he began moving inside her, a deep, languorous glide that heightened her anticipation and promised unspeakable pleasures. She moaned and gripped his shoulders, her fingertips digging into the hard pad of muscle.

  As his strokes deepened, he stared into her eyes with a burning ferocity that intensified the ache in her womb.

  “I knew it’d be this way between us,” he whispered thickly. “We both knew it the moment we saw each other for the first time.”

  Reese could only manage a whimper, beyond any and all rational thought.

  Soon the tempo of his thrusts increased, sending her breasts bouncing up
and down.

  He bent, sucking them into his mouth in hot, greedy pulls. She mewled and ground her pelvis against his, her nails raking his broad back. He raised his head and seized her lips.

  They kissed in raw urgency, their mouths fusing, tongues twining. She was frantic with need, a slave to his masterful possession of her body. He owned her, and he knew it.

  He grasped her bottom and lifted her off the table, forcing her to absorb the full impact of his heavy body pounding into hers. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of his taut, round butt in a mirror on the opposite wall. The image of his muscles clenching and unclenching as he thrust into her was something straight out of her most erotic fantasies.

  She grew aroused beyond all bearing.

  She grabbed his butt, her hips pumping wildly as she met the driving force of each stroke. He groaned, throwing back his head and closing his eyes. A fine sheen of perspiration coated his dark skin. Her gaze was riveted to a trickle of sweat that rolled down his quivering stomach muscles and disappeared between their joined bodies.

  They rocked and glided against each other, their guttural cries and moans echoing around the large kitchen. Reese’s heart thundered, her skin burned everywhere. A full, delicious pressure was gathering velocity in her loins.

  Michael set her back down on the table and drew her legs higher around his torso, as high as they could go without wrapping around his neck. His eyes blazed black as coal as he drove into her ruthlessly, plunging so deep she felt the vibrations in the back of her womb. She keened with pleasure. Her body soared higher, the pressure building to fever pitch.

  With one last powerful thrust, he sent her hurtling into an orgasm of cataclysmic proportions. She threw back her head and screamed his name as her inner muscles pulsed and contracted with the explosive spasms.

  A moment later Michael came with a primal shout, his hips bucking furiously as he rode her through his violent release.

  They clutched each other tightly, his face buried in the damp curve of her neck, their bodies shaking, their breath sawing in and out of their lungs.

  Reese didn’t know how much time passed. She didn’t care. Wrapped in Michael’s strong arms, with his throbbing penis sheathed inside her and his heart drumming against hers, she could have clung to him forever.

  At length they drew apart and stared at each other with identical expressions of awe.

  Reese trembled as he stroked a hand over her hair and brushed a tender kiss across her cheek, then her mouth.

  “Beautiful Reese,” he murmured in a voice that reached deep into her soul. “There’s no turning back now.”

  Her heart swelled to aching. She closed her eyes against a hot sting of tears.

  Then, and only then, did she remember Victor.

  God help me, she thought. What have I done?

  Chapter 13

  When Michael awoke the next morning, the first thing he became aware of was the lush, silky warmth of Reese’s body curved snugly against his, as if they were interlocked pieces of a puzzle. A perfect fit.

  As he came more fully awake, he made another stunning discovery.

  He was in the same spot he’d been in when he’d drifted off to sleep after making love to Reese last night. The exact same spot. He knew because the covers weren’t twisted around his legs or hanging off the bed, as he usually found them in the mornings. No, they were still resting at his waist, undisturbed. Which could only mean one thing.

  He hadn’t moved all night.

  But that’s impossible, his mind rebelled.

  For as long as Michael could remember, he’d always been a fitful sleeper. His mother used to tell him that as a newborn, the only way she could get him to sleep for a few hours was to keep him latched onto her breast. The moment she stopped feeding him, he’d wriggle himself right awake. As he grew older, his parents had often entered his room to find him huddled in the middle of the bed and shivering in his sleep because he’d kicked off the covers.

  Over the years he’d lost count of how many women had accused him of retreating to his side of the bed and not snuggling with them during the night. He’d grown so tired of hearing the same complaint that he’d stopped spending the night with his lovers, getting up and leaving them shortly after sex. Sure, it made him seem callous and selfish, but he figured that was the best way to spare their feelings in the long run.

  He wasn’t a sound sleeper. Never would be. So spooning a woman during the night was out of the question.

  Yet there he was spooning Reese. And, apparently, he’d done it all night.

  I’ll be damned, Michael thought, shaken by the discovery.

  It was just one more example of the way Reese was turning his world upside down.

  Before meeting her, he’d had no concept of what it meant to be obsessed with a woman, to crave her so badly that nearly every waking thought was consumed with her. But over the past week he’d received a crash course in obsession, and he was proving to be quite an apt pupil.

  As vivid memories from last night flooded his mind, he couldn’t keep a slow, wicked smile off his face. After their explosive interlude at the restaurant—would he ever see his precious kitchen the same way again?—he’d somehow convinced Reese to spend the night with him. Though she’d seemed a bit subdued on the ride to his penthouse, once he took her in his arms again, she’d surrendered with the same desperate abandon as before.

  They hadn’t even made it upstairs to his bedroom before he’d had her long legs wrapped around him as he thrust into her. He’d made love to her over and over again throughout the night. He was insatiable, couldn’t get enough of her.

  As if to demonstrate, his penis hardened in response to the lush swell of her bottom nestled against his lap. He grinned, already contemplating several creative ways he could wake her up—all involving the use of his hands, lips and tongue.

  But as he edged closer to her, Reese suddenly tensed and shifted away from him.

  His grin faded. Was she already awake?

  Propping himself up on one elbow, he peered down into her face. Sure enough, her eyes were open as she stared straight ahead.

  He leaned down and pressed an openmouthed kiss to her silky bare shoulder. A fine tremor passed through her, and her long lashes fluttered. He felt a glimmer of hope.

  “Good morning,” he murmured.

  She didn’t turn to look at him. “Good morning.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

  “I did, too. Slept like a baby, in fact.” It was true. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever enjoyed such a deep, sated slumber. And he’d awakened feeling refreshed and blissfully content. He could definitely get used to more mornings like this.

  Provided he got the opportunity.

  Smiling down at Reese, he gently combed his fingers through the thick, lustrous strands of black hair fanned out across her pillow. She closed her eyes, but not in languid pleasure. She looked strained, as if she were waging an internal battle.

  He found himself holding his breath, wondering which side would win.

  A long, taut silence stretched between them.

  When Michael couldn’t take it anymore, he decided his only option was to tackle the unwelcome elephant in the room.

  “You’re having second thoughts about last night.”

  Reese’s eyes opened. She hesitated, then nodded tightly. “It was a mistake.”

  Anger flared inside his chest. “It sure as hell didn’t feel like a mistake.”

  It was the wrong thing to say, the wrong approach to use.

  She scooted away from him and sat up quickly, clutching the sheet protectively to her chest. Her cheeks were still flushed from hours of savage lovemaking, her lips were still swollen from hard kissing, her hair was tousled about her face and shoulders, and beneath the sheet, her voluptuous breasts beckoned to him. She was incredibly beautiful.

  And too damned tempting for her own good.

  Mi
chael reached for her. “Reese—”

  She jerked away from him.

  Swearing under his breath, Michael fell back against his stack of pillows and blew out a harsh, frustrated breath. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He’d been looking forward to spending a few more pleasurable hours in bed with her. And then he’d imagined them cooking breakfast together, dividing the tasks, making a game of “accidentally”

  bumping into each other as they worked. He’d envisioned them laughing, teasing, stealing kisses as they carried their plates out to the balcony to enjoy the scenic view.

  But maybe his expectations had been as unrealistic as those of the women who’d wanted him to cuddle with them during the night.