Flavor Of The Month (Kiss & Tell Book 2)

by Tori Carrington

  “Hmm. Seems to be a frequent topic with us. Humanity.”

  He pressed his lips against her palm. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”

  She fought to concentrate on the mental path he was leading her down, but her body battled back, much happier focusing on the flick of his tongue against her skin, the wholly provocative expression on his face, and the suggestion in his eyes that they could be doing something much, much more interesting in that one moment.

  She restlessly licked her lips. “I, um, guess we all get so wrapped up in the busyness of our own lives that we don’t take much time out to consider life as a whole. I mean…what does it all mean, anyway?” Her heart thrummed an erratic rhythm in her chest as he trailed the very tip of his forefinger down her wrist and up her arm to her elbow.

  Oh boy.

  “You’re the only one who’s made me stop to think about it,” Ben murmured, his attention on her skin.

  If he didn’t stop, she was going to slide down under the table and pull him along with her.

  The lights flickered. Reilly couldn’t be sure if it was reality or an extension of her own short-circuiting brain. But then the lights went out altogether, leaving only the light of the setting sun filtering in through the windows and a quiet hush hanging over the room.

  “Damn,” Ben muttered, seeming reluctant to let her go.

  Yep. Those were her sentiments exactly as she watched him scoot from the booth and start for the back of the restaurant, leaving Reilly alone to ponder his words, his mouth, her own lack of control when it came to him and food, and the restlessness of the customers around her.

  As she sat quietly in the dark, she wondered what the future held for her and Ben Kane. Was it just her, or did things seemed to be getting serious fast? Or was she an ingenue when it came to the dating scene and that what was passing between them was normal first-time dating stuff? She couldn’t be sure. But she did know she wanted—no, longed for—it to continue. Even as a part of her worried about what would happen when Ben would eventually wake up and see her for who she really was and bolt in the other direction.

  She wouldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t think about that now.

  In fact, she decided she needed to do something other than sit there in the dark before she turned into an emotional basket case altogether.

  Either that or eat all the delicious-smelling food on the table in front of her under the cover of darkness.

  She slid from the booth, firmly deciding on the former. She’d never fit into that bridesmaid dress if she did the latter.

  9

  THE POWER OUTAGE was just one in a long line of mysterious mishaps in the past week, testing Ben’s patience. And why this one had to happen tonight of all nights further agitated him. In the kitchen, he consulted with Lance, propping open the doors to both the dining area and the back so at least a little light penetrated the complete darkness. The quiet hum of conversation between the guests was starting to get a little louder, a little more anxious.

  Lance was running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on, boss. The outage isn’t local. I checked the fuse box and looked outside, but couldn’t find any sign of the cause.”

  Great. In the seven years since opening the restaurant, he’d never encountered a power outage before.

  “Candles.”

  Ben turned to find Reilly behind him.

  “Surely, you have candles around here someplace? Get them and have the servers put one on each of the tables. Two, if you have enough. And line them up along the bar in front of the mirrors to reflect the light.”

  In fact, they did have candles. A lot of them they’d accumulated for the summer when the dining area extended to the deck overlooking the beach and for Valentine’s Day every year.

  Ben set out to order the servers to do just that, when Reilly touched his arm.

  “No, Lance can do that. You need to go out and soothe your guests. Throw them a freebie. Make the happening seem like something unexpectedly…romantic.”

  Ben gazed down into her shadowy face. God, but he was coming to…like this woman. A lot. She was quick on her feet. Inventive. In control. And sexier than all get out.

  “Gotcha, boss,” he said to her with a grin.

  He noticed the way her chin dipped down to her chest and wished he could see her blush.

  He went out to give a general announcement to the diners, then moved from table to table, personally addressing each guest and reassuring them that dinner would be served as usual. As he did so, he noticed that Reilly had tied a server’s apron around her waist, covering her sexy black dress, and was helping set out the candles with a warm and friendly smile. Just seeing her made him feel less worried, more at ease. And made him want her all the more.

  When he made his way back to the kitchen twenty minutes later, he found Reilly talking to Lance in the light of dozens of candles placed carefully around the room. “You work with gas stoves, right?” she was saying. “We need appetizers. A lot of them. Oh, and drinks! Make sure everyone’s glass is kept full.”

  Ben came up behind her, brushing suggestively against her backside in her form-fitting dress. He caught her shiver.

  “What’s the status on the outage?” he asked Lance over Reilly’s shoulder.

  “Edison said they can’t send anyone out until morning. I’m waiting to hear back from a private electrician now. Through his wife, I promised him double his usual take if he can make it here tonight.”

  “Good.”

  “Does anyone play piano?” Reilly asked the kitchen staff.

  Piano?

  “I do. Some,” one of his newer servers said quietly.

  “Come here,” Reilly motioned toward the young blonde. She told her to turn around, helped her take off her apron, pulled her white blouse out of her slacks then tied the ends around the young woman’s slender stomach. She turned her back around and pulled her hair out of her ponytail and fluffed it around her head. “Go. Keep it low and soft, but up-beat.”

  The girl seemed shocked.

  “I’ll double your pay for the night,” Ben added.

  “You don’t have to say that twice,” the girl said and darted out of the kitchen.

  To look at Reilly’s face you wouldn’t know that she’d just backed up against him, discreetly rubbing her bottom against the front of his slacks. But, oh, did Ben ever know it. “Nice move, that one,” she whispered.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  THREE HOURS LATER, while kissing Reilly, Ben opened the door to what he called his bungalow, but what was really a sprawling one-story house, situated a quarter mile up from the restaurant and perched on a cliff. He backed her into the dark living room, tugging at the straps of her dress as he went.

  She tasted good. Add to that the fact that she had essentially saved the night from complete ruin at the restaurant and he was suitably in awe of her. Was there anything this woman couldn’t do?

  He fumbled to turn on the lights, rotating the dimmer to low even as she pushed his shirt down over his arms, not completing the task before she dove for the front of his slacks. He shook his arms one by one to free himself of the thick cotton.

  He chuckled softly, sliding the straps of her dress down over her arms and leaving them there, essentially trapping her in the same way she had unwittingly trapped him moments before.

  She drew slightly away, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stared up at him, her hazel eyes all light and warmth and passion.

  “You’re an impatient one, aren’t you?” he whispered, bending to kiss the curve of her sweet-smelling neck then skimming his mouth up over her delicate jawline.

  “Hot. I’m hot.”

  He looked down at her. “Oh, I already know that, Reilly.”

  She struggled to free herself of her makeshift bindings.

  “Not so fast. We did it your way last time. Now it’s time we gave my way a chance.”

  “Your…way?” she whis
pered so low he nearly didn’t make out her words.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He watched her swallow with apparent difficulty.

  “Nice and slow…”

  She slid her leg between his and drew her knee up to rub against his crotch. “Slow’s overrated.”

  “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

  “I have—”

  He claimed her mouth to keep the words from coming out. “Not with me, you haven’t.”

  Thankfully she had no response to that one except the heaving of her chest as she fought for air.

  He swept her up into his arms and carried her to his bedroom at the back of the house overlooking the sea. The view wasn’t that different than the restaurant’s. The important difference, however, being the king-size bed situated in the middle of the room covered in black silk and a thick black-patterned comforter. He pushed the remote to open the sheer curtains, then pushed another button that opened the windows entirely. While a bit on the chilly side, the fresh, invigorating smell of the ocean air created an atmosphere he had been waiting all night to show her.

  Reilly gasped, staring at the way the bright moonlight shimmered off the white-topped waves some fifty feet below the cliff then stretched off in a silvery line that seemed to pave the way to forever. She took a deep breath of the salty Pacific. All at once she seemed to forget about her restless urgency. Judging her readiness for him to take the lead, Ben laid her across the bed and skimmed her dress down and off, revealing two scraps of silk and lace that were her panties and bra. He again knew a moment of disappointment that she wasn’t wearing the enormous underwear that still played such a large role in his private fantasies.

  He took in her face in the dim moonlight. Her eyes were big and luminescent. Her lips plump and parted. Her glorious hair tousled and appealing. Damn, but she was beautiful.

  He ran his hands slowly down her sides, content for now to skim over her undergarments. But on the second pass he did away with both, baring her to his gaze. Every part of her was in perfect proportion with the next. Her breasts were just the right size. Her nipples perfect for her breasts. Her waist not too narrow. Her hips full and soft. The golden triangle of hair between her legs trimmed just so, but not overly done.

  He parted her thighs and she slowly opened to him, revealing the pink engorged flesh that lay waiting for him. Evidence of her need glistened in the dim light, tempting him forward. He pushed off the bed and did away with his clothes then rejoined her, lying off to her side so he could explore every precious inch of her with his mouth and his hands. She tasted as good as she looked.

  With deliberate slowness, he trailed a finger down over her collarbone then over to the inside of her arm, watching as she shivered. He then drew the digit across her chest then down to draw ever-smaller circles around her right nipple before touching the tip itself. If her thick swallow was anything to go by, she was enjoying the journey. And judging by his pulsing erection, he wasn’t having such a bad time himself.

  He switched his attention to her other nipple, watching as she arched her back the slightest bit as if tempting him to add his mouth to the mix. An offer no man could pass up. He ran his tongue the length of the distended flesh, then nibbled before taking it deep into his mouth. Her groan wound around him, tightening the muscles of his groin.

  He sensed Reilly’s growing desire to take control. To up the pace of their lovemaking. Which made him doubly glad when she didn’t act on it. The trust of the action. The willingness to please him. Both made this more than just a simple sack session. What they were doing was more than sex. He could virtually feel the deepening of his feelings toward the gloriously naked woman lying next to him. He knew a need to bring her a pleasure no man before him had given her. He wanted to claim her in a way he had claimed no woman before her.

  A few weeks ago the concept might have scared the hell out of him. He’d seen what happened to his friends when they’d fallen in love over the years. Saw them alter their lifestyle, change their ways, essentially transform into different people. But Reilly asked him to change nothing. She didn’t comment on the color of his shirt, the meaning being that she wanted him to change into something else. She didn’t look at his restaurant and tell him what was missing. She just…shared with him. No demands. No pressures. No obvious hint dropping. If anything, she seemed to be trying to maintain distance between them. Not because she wasn’t interested. All he had to do was look into her face and know that she was as drawn to him as he was to her. No, she felt what was happening as profoundly as he did. And he suspected she might be scared. Of what, he couldn’t be sure. But he could take a wild guess that his reputation with women wasn’t helping any.

  He drew his finger down the middle of her stomach, reveling in the silky smoothness of her skin. He dipped down lower until he was nearly touching the wedge of springy hair between her legs. She drew in a sharp breath and he watched as she opened her thighs even further to him.

  Oh, he planned to get there all right. But in his own sweet time.

  He knew she had to be going crazy right about now. Yet she still allowed him to set the pace. Let him slide his fingers down the inside of her thigh then up over her pubic hair to the other thigh, purposely avoiding the place she most wanted him to touch. She moaned and arched her neck, her mouth split open, her eyes closed as she gave herself over to vivid sensation.

  Ben slid over until he was between her legs then leaned over her, flicking his tongue over her stomach. She gasped and her hands automatically grabbed for him. He gently lay them back at her sides then flattened his fingers against her waist, holding her still as he retraced the path his fingers had taken with his mouth. Her skin was hot to the point of being feverish. Her stomach moved up and down with her quick, ragged breathing. He was aware that every time he dipped down for another taste, his chest teased her springy curls, pressed into her dampness. He spread her further to him, edging the glorious triangle with his tongue, breathing in her musky scent. He positioned his thumbs against the very outer fringe of hair and parted her, drawing out another moan. Then he softly blew on her exposed, swollen flesh.

  She shuddered so violently with her climax the mattress quaked under them. Ben openly watched her, absorbing everything that was Reilly in the throes of orgasm. Then when the contractions began to ebb, he fastened his lips on the tiny bud in the middle of the nest of curls and drew the sensitive flesh deep into his mouth.

  Reilly cried out, challenging the roar of the sea as her fists tangled in his sheets and her back came up off the bed, pressing herself harder against his mouth as she came again.

  Ben kissed her along her inner thigh as her breathing slowed.

  “Wow,” she murmured, entangling her fingers in his hair.

  Ben grinned against her skin then nipped her. She gave a little cry of surprise. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  And moments later, when he was sheathed with a condom and positioned against her dripping entrance, he was pretty sure he’d won her over to his side of the speed equation. Especially when he slowly entered her to the hilt and she immediately came again. And again. And again. Making him feel like he was an out-and-out sex god.

  And making him fall even deeper for her with each passing minute….

  REILLY AWOKE to the distant squeal of sea lions and seagulls, feeling more relaxed and rested than she could ever remember feeling in her life. She cracked her eyelids open, watching the play of light on water against the ceiling.

  Then she jackknifed upright in Ben’s empty, king-size desperately searching for a clock. She finally found one by means of an alarm clock that had been stuck inside a drawer next to the bed.

  Ten minutes after nine.

  She gave a squeal of her own and leaped from the bed, scrambling for her discarded dress and shoes. The underwear she could do without. She should have opened the doors to Sugar ’n’ Spice over three hours ago. She should have started baking the day’s take even before that.

>   She looked around for any sign of Ben and found none. A square of white on the other pillow caught her eye. She snatched up the note and read it:

  I didn’t have the heart to wake you so I found Tina’s number in your purse and asked her to open the shop for you. I’m at the restaurant. Stop by for a cuppa on your way out.

  The note was signed simply, B.

  He’d gone through her purse? He’d called Tina? Stop by for a cuppa?

  Reilly fought the urge to crawl back under the covers and stay there until the repercussions of Ben’s actions blew over.

  Which would probably be never.

  She found the purse in question on the opposite bedside table and snatched it up. She opened it, trying to look at it through Ben’s eyes. Vitamins, appetite suppressors, lip gloss, a brush and her address book. Nothing overly personal. Nothing she should be upset at him seeing.

  The problem was she was very upset.

  And if she stopped by Benardo’s Hideaway on her way home it wouldn’t be for a cuppa, it would be to dump the cup’s contents over his unthinking head.

  Oh, God. She rushed for the door, stopping briefly before opening it to gather her wits about her. What kind of damage control could she possibly wield to cover up this one? Tina was probably at the shop just waiting to bombard her with dozens of questions the moment she walked through the door. And Lord forbid Layla, Mallory or Jack happened to stop by this morning for a sticky bun.

  And what about everyone at the restaurant? If she showed up in the same dress she’d been wearing the night before, wouldn’t they know something was up?

  Of course, they would, stupid.

  As she climbed into the shop van, she could only be glad that she’d insisted on driving out to the restaurant the night before instead of having Ben pick her up. At least she’d be able to get home on her own without having to call for a taxi, or worse, call one of her friends to pick her up.

  As for Ben…