by Krista Lakes
At work, I did everything in my power not to read a single document. I knew it was futile, but it was the only thing I could do that didn’t give Audrey power over me.
I scanned and probably misfiled half the documents, but I didn’t want to know what was on them. If I knew, then I would have to tell my stepmother. If I honestly had no idea, then I couldn’t tell her.
It was a flimsy excuse, but at the moment it was all I had.
Guilt about everything clung to me, smothering like smoke.
“Hey you,” Jaqui said, stepping into my office.
I dropped the stack of papers I was holding in surprise, sending a flurry of paperwork to the floor. I was sure she was there to arrest me. Or fire me. She had to suspect something. It didn’t help how jumpy I was around her lately.
“What’s up?” I asked, my voice shaking as I bent over and quickly picked up my papers. I waved Jaqui off when she tried to help me. I knew that it was all in my head, but I couldn’t shake the guilt hanging over me.
“I have a huge favor to ask of you,” Jaqui said. She leaned against the door and bit her lip.
“What do you need?” I set my stack of papers down. At least she wasn’t here to fire me.
“I need you to make trade folders and pamphlets for the upcoming delegation next week. My assistant is out with the flu, and these are needed now. I’m re-tasking you, if you’ll accept it.”
“You want me to make pamphlets?” I asked, not believing my luck. “Instead of this?” I motioned to the boxes still covering the floor. It seemed as though they appeared as quickly as I got through them.
“Yeah. If you don’t want to, I get it. It would put you behind on the scans and delay you getting out of here, but-”
“No, I want to,” I cut her off. I was being given a reprieve. It wasn’t my fault if I was being re-tasked. I knew my stepmother would have that changed the moment she found out, but for now, I was safe. “I really want to.”
Jaqui looked at me a little strangely. “Wow. You’re really excited about it. I didn’t think scanning was that bad.”
“I’m just bored with it,” I tried to explain. “Making folders for you will be a nice change of pace for a few days. It’s actually just what I need.”
Jaqui smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here and can do it. It really helps me out. The scanning can wait a few days, but this conference won’t.”
“I’m happy I can help,” I told her. “Really, I can’t tell you how glad I am to do it. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“It’s still for the Paradisians,” Jaqui explained. “They are throwing this big ball next weekend in honor of trade negotiations wrapping up, but that means that there’s a big meeting where the head honchos need pretty pamphlets and folders to discuss everything.”
“This is for the Paradisians?” I asked. Somehow it felt a little less like an escape. My stepmother would still find a way to make this work for her.
“Yes, so that’s why I can re-task you without too much paperwork,” she replied with a grin. “Hopefully, once this whole thing is done we can get you back to the senate somehow. As much as I love having you here, it’s not where you belong. You’re meant for bigger things than this.”
My heart warmed at my friend’s compliment. I didn’t deserve it. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you for switching tasks.” Jaqui grinned. “Go ahead and finish up what you’ve got open, and then come meet me in my office. I’ve got everything set up in the copy room.”
“Sounds great. I’ll be done in just a minute,” I said, feeling a lightness in my chest. I had just won a lucky break. It wasn’t much, but it did give me a little more time to come up with a way to get out from under my stepmother. I had a couple of ideas, but I needed to do some legal research before I pursued any of them. This gave me the time to do that without worrying as much.
I quickly stacked up my work and signed out of the laptop. It felt good to turn it off. I looked around the room, pleased to be leaving, even if it was only for a few days. I would miss this room only because of the picnic with Henry, but now that we were an official couple, I hoped there would be other picnics in other rooms.
I grabbed my things and headed to the copy room. I was ready to make folders and anything else Jaqui wanted as long as I didn’t have to go back to scanning documents.
I made pamphlets until my eyes ached. Then, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up groceries. I didn’t usually have nearly this much when I wasn’t cooking. It felt strange to have bags of things to bring up.
I arranged the items I’d gotten from the store on my kitchen counter. I’d found most of the things he’d asked or, or at least what I hoped where close to what he wanted. Panko crumbs were apparently some sort of Japanese crunchy breadcrumb type thing. I’d had to ask someone to show me where they were since they were not with the bread. They were in the baking aisle where I never ventured.
I had no idea what in the heck we were making, but I was excited to try it. I was ready to try anything with him.
The knock on my door made me smile. He was finally here.
I smoothed the front of the dress I’d changed into and tried to walk calmly to the door. I didn’t make it two steps before I ran the rest of the way. Luckily, it was a small space so I didn’t have far to run. I checked the peephole to see him standing in my hallway, wearing his traditional baseball cap. He had a canvas bag with more groceries resting on his shoulder.
I grinned and threw open the door.
He looked sexy as hell in a nice pair of slacks and a button-up dark gray shirt. He hadn’t shaved since this morning, so he had just the right amount of stubble to accentuate his strong jaw. I couldn’t wait to kiss him and feel it against my skin.
“Hi,” I greeted him.
He grinned. “Hi.”
I held open the door and he stepped inside, taking off his hat. He waited until I closed the door before sweeping me into his arms and kissing me like he hadn’t seen me in weeks rather than just a day.
I wasn’t about to complain, especially since I kissed him back the same way.
“You look beautiful,” he said once he released me from his kiss. He didn’t release me from his embrace, which I was happy about.
“Thanks,” I replied. I put my hand to his cheek, feeling the scratch of his in-coming beard on my fingers. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He kissed me again, and I lost track of time. It was easy to do when a handsome man kissed like heaven and felt even better. I could have died of starvation and never complained if it meant I got to kiss him the entire time.
“You keep that up and we’ll never finish dinner,” he said, breathless as he pulled back. Apparently, I was as good a kisser as he was.
“Maybe it’s all part of my evil new diet plan. No eating. Just kissing. And other things.”
He chuckled and kissed my cheek. “Liar,” he teased.
I grinned, both of us releasing the other at the same time. He went to my small kitchen and looked over my ingredients.
“You did great,” he said, picking up my box of panko bread crumbs. He set them down and looked at the chicken breasts I had found. “These are perfect.”
Pride filled my center. I was glad I had pleased him. It felt good to have him praise me.
“What are we making, by the way?” I asked, sidling up to him in the kitchen.
He grinned and began to carefully take things out of his canvas tote. A bottle of white wine, fresh green beans, some sort of reddish potato looking thing, and some seasonings. He carefully set the bag to the side, even though there was something still left inside of it.
I secretly hoped it was dessert. I wasn’t going to peek until he said to, though. I liked surprises.
“We are making Panko Crusted Chicken Piccata with green beans and roasted beets.” He started opening cabinets. “Where’s your cutting board?”
“It’s under the lemons,” I pointed to the counter. “It
’s brand new.”
“You didn’t have a cutting board?” he asked, turning to look at me. “Please tell me that you at least have a cutting knife and some cooking sheets.”
“Like cookie sheets?” I asked. I went to the storage space under my oven and pulled out two very well loved cookie sheets. “The knives are by the sink.”
He stepped to the side and pulled out my cheap plastic handled carving knife. He tested the sharpness and looked surprised. “Have you ever even used this? It’s actually much sharper than I expected.”
I shrugged. “I have to use something to open the cookie dough rolls.” He just shook his head.
“Wash your hands and we’ll get started.”.
The next hour was spent cutting and seasoning, cooking and laughing. I liked that my kitchen was small enough that we kept running into one another. It gave me an excuse to touch him as often as I wanted.
We sliced up the beets and roasted them, making the entire apartment smell sweet and rustic as we worked on the chicken. He showed me how to tenderize the chicken and then dredge it for pan frying. He taught me how to prep the beans and how to make a sauce. It was fun to watch the recipe slowly come together from random ingredients to something that resembled a meal.
With every step, he took the time to explain what we were doing. He let me do most of the work so that I could truly feel like I learned how to do this. It was the mark of a good teacher.
When the oven beeped that the beets were finished, the chicken was cooked through, the sauce complete, and the beans tender, I felt like I had done it all on my own. It was empowering and fun.
Plus, my house smelled absolutely amazing. I knew it could smell good when I brought takeout home, but this was even better. It smelled good because I had cooked something nutritious and delicious.
“There is one downside to this cooking method,” I told Henry as he checked the chicken to make sure it was cooked through.
He frowned slightly, his brows coming together at a point. “What?”
“We’ll have to use plates,” I replied with a grin. He laughed and slid my perfectly cooked, crisp chicken onto a clean white plate. I set the table and helped bring the chicken with sauce, the green beans, and the bowl full of roasted beets to the table.
I lit a candle and placed it in the center. For the first time since moving here, my table looked like something out of a magazine.
“Hold on, I need to take a picture,” I told him, pulling out my burner phone and snapping a quick picture. “There needs to be proof in the world that I cooked a meal that wasn’t out of a box.”
Henry chuckled and waited until I finished before taking his seat.
Carefully, we both put the steaming food on our plates and Henry poured us each a glass of wine.
“To you,” he said, holding up his glass. I grinned.
“To us,” I replied, tapping my glass against his and making him smile.
Then I picked up my fork and took a bite of the meal I had prepared.
To my amazement, it was actually good. Better than good, even. Delicious.
“Just sign me up for chef school now,” I told Henry, taking a bigger bite this time. “I’m practically Gordon Ramsay.”
Henry laughed. “What about me?”
“You were an excellent teacher,” I told him. “I’ll recommend you to everyone. You can continue to be my sow chef.”
“Sow chef?” Henry’s eyes bugged out a little and he choked on his food. “You mean sous chef.”
“Sous chef?” That sounded more like what they were always saying on those cooking shows. “It’s sous?”
“Yes, it’s French.” Henry coughed and pounded on his chest. His face turned red with laughter. “A sow is a female pig.”
“You definitely aren’t one of those,” I conceded with a grin.
“I think I need more wine,” Henry replied. He stood up and went to his bag in the kitchen. I tried to focus on my food, but I watched him open the bag. He reached inside and paused before moving his hand and pulling out something else. He brought out a second bottle of wine, which he opened and brought to the table.
We had used most of the first bottle for the lemon wine sauce on the chicken, so I didn’t feel like too much of a lush. Yet another perk of cooking my own food: more wine.
He filled up both our glasses before taking a long sip of his.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin, reminding me that some people did have manners. He used his fork and knife like I imagined people would when dining with the queen of England.
I was just glad my father had taught me some basic table manners, like which fork to use for salad and how to tell which wine glass and water glass belonged to me at a table. We weren’t using any of those at our dinner, but I was glad I could at least pretend to be well-bred while I sat with Henry.
“Thank you for this,” I said softly, watching him in the soft candlelight. “I’m having a lot of fun.”
I loved the way he smiled. I loved the way the candlelight caught the reds and golds in his hair and made them sparkle.
I loved everything about him.
I was falling dangerously fast for this man. He was irresistible and made me smile. I felt better when he was with me. I felt like anything was possible.
I felt lucky.
When we finished the meal, I stood up to collect the dishes. Henry helped. I set them in the sink, planning on doing them later. They could wait.
What I wanted couldn’t wait.
Henry followed me to the kitchen, carrying our wine glasses and the empty chicken plate. I waited for him to set it down before pouncing on him with a kiss. I pressed him into the counter, using my body to trap him to me.
He let out a quiet yelp of surprise before wrapping his arms around me and thoroughly kissing me back. This was better than dinner. This was better than anything I could think of.
Well, almost.
Very gently, I pulled his shirt up and off, humming my approval as my hands slid over his chest.
Henry cocked one eyebrow up, but didn’t make a move to stop me. Instead, he slid his hands down my back and pulled my hips into him. My core pressed down on his erection, making him groan.
“Aria,” he whispered, my name like music. I loved the hoarse need in his voice when he called to me like that.
He grabbed my hips and spun me so I was the one against the counter. With a simple lift, he had me up and sitting on my kitchen counter, him between my legs and my breasts even with his eyes.
He reached up and undid the halter tie to my dress, letting it fall forward. I loved the way his eyes dilated as he found bare skin beneath my dress. His fingers slid up from my hips to cup my breasts, his thumbs playing with my nipples. He leaned forward, taking one into his mouth with a happy sigh.
I melted into him, loving the heat of his touch against my skin. His mouth on the delicate skin of my breast was gentle and loving, yet sending tremors of electric want straight down my spine. I arched my back, giving him more to take.
He lifted my skirt, his hands sliding up along my thighs until he came to my waist. Today, I’d made sure to wear something sexy. A tiny pair of white lace panties. I bit my lip and looked up at him.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his eyes dark and dangerous with desire.
“Show me,” I replied.
I reached for my skirt, holding it up for him to do what he liked. He ran the pad of his finger of the tiny sliver of white lace. At the bottom of his tracing, he caught the fabric and moved it to the side. He touched me then, groaning out my name as he found me ready for him.
I rocked against him, needing more. So much more. I whimpered and looked pointedly at his bulging pants. He dug into his pocket and handed me the condom while he quickly tore off his belt. He threw his pants and boxers to the side, leaving him standing before me at full mast with just a dress shirt on.
Good lord was it the s
exiest thing I have ever seen.
He stepped forward, pressing his mouth to mine like he couldn’t wait a second longer to kiss me. I rocked my hips to the edge of the counter, fumbling with the small foil packet.
“Here,” he whispered taking it from me and taking over.
He grabbed my panties and scooted them to the side, our eyes locked as he paused. I trembled, wanting this moment to never end and needing it to at the same time. He kissed me, sucking on my lower lip and sliding his tongue to mine like it was supposed to be.
He slid in deeply and my breath caught. His did too, the sensation almost too much to handle. Our eyes met again and I lost myself to the ocean blue. How did he have an entire world in his eyes meant just for me?
He rocked his hips, filling me to the brim and then some. I cried out his name, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He gripped the counter like it was the only thing keeping him from falling away from me.
“More,” I whispered. I didn’t care how, but I needed more of him. All of him.
He kissed the pulse at the base of my throat, rocking his hips to a slow steady rhythm. Every thrust, every movement went straight to my soul.
“Aria,” he whispered, his voice low and thick. The sound of it made my temperature skyrocket and I rocked hard into him.
“Henry.” The sound of his name made him look at me, and I could see all the longing and so much more in his eyes. The depth terrified and excited me that this was so much more than I ever thought possible.
He tugged at my skirt. “This needs to go,” he whispered.
I slid down off the counter and slithered out of the dress. I took the panties off as well, and he watched them go with a smile.
He grabbed my hips and put me right back up on the counter. It was cold this time without the barrier of my dress, but he was back inside of me before I had a chance to even think about it.
My hands tangled in his hair as his roamed my body. His touch left smolders of desire along my skin, like little embers of need that I could never put out. I wanted him everywhere. He nipped at my shoulder, his mouth hot and greedy for my skin.