Cooking Up A Seduction

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Cooking Up A Seduction Page 15

by Jenna Bayley-Burke


  He cleared his throat and she turned from her work at the counter. The radiance in her sparkling green eyes and bright smile eroded what remained of his restraint. Since the night they’d met he’d wanted her. And now, exhausted from a week of work and little sleep, he needed nothing more than to let go of everything and take the risk.

  He closed the distance between them and captured her lips before she could say a word. Through his shirt he felt the heat of her hands clutching his arms while his mouth plundered hers. Her lips parted willingly, her sweet breath filling his mouth with the taste of ripe peaches.

  Kissing Lauren was intoxicating. Had been since that first sizzling, powerful, overwhelming moment their lips locked. A moment he’d been racing towards ever since. He tugged at her lips, drawing a response from her so strong her fingernails dug into his arms.

  Pulling his bottom lip between her teeth she nipped hard enough for him to let her pull back.

  “I knew it,” she whispered, releasing him and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she turned back to the counter.

  “Knew what?” For the first time he glanced at the counter strewn with platters of fruits and vegetables.

  “You missed me.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Are you guilty, Cameron?” She looked up at him, her eyes asking a question he couldn’t read. The guarded expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Do you like your surprise?”

  “The house looks amazing. So much warmer and more comfortable.” He reached out, tracing a finger down the silken skin of her bare arm. His fingers toyed with the slippery ribbons holding her outfit together. One pull and it would all fall away.

  “No.” Lauren stepped away from him and circled the island in the center of the kitchen. She waved her hand over the top, gesturing to the platters. “First, you have to earn it. Anything you want, we’ll do. As long as you eat it first.”

  The memory of her sweet taste flooded his mind and he took a step to follow her.

  “Not me, the food.”

  Food, right. Taking a breath so deep his lungs hurt, he forced himself to focus on the platters on the countertop. His eyes widened.

  “Did I ever tell you I was expelled from culinary school?”

  He shook his head. Speaking now was impossible. She’d somehow worked fruits and vegetables into suggestively erotic presentations.

  “We had to design a tablescape for a buffet. My theme proved too much for the instructors. But I don’t think the effect is wasted on you.”

  Not in the slightest. Cameron’s eyes drank in the sexual smorgasbord. A banana carved to look like a curved penis. Two lemon breasts tipped by cherry nipples with a plum capped zucchini pressing between them. A yellow bell pepper sitting atop two celery stalks splayed with a pair of brussel sprouts below and a chili partially inserted in the pepper. And his favorite, a peach between two eggplant thighs, being impaled by the yellow zucchini.

  “Damn, that’s hot.”

  “Makes you like vegetables, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll never look at eggplant the same way again, that’s for sure.”

  “In art school I sold still photos to a men’s magazine. So you can brag your girlfriend has been in Playboy.”

  “Culinary school and art school?” He asked absentmindedly, still trying to decide what to try first. He planned on sampling every dish.

  “Plus I’m ten credits shy of my bachelors degree.”

  He looked up in time to see the hesitancy in her gaze. “I’m surprised. I thought you finished whatever you started.”

  “Life is short. If it isn’t worthwhile, I get out. No point in wasting time finishing if you’ve already learned what you meant to.”

  “You don’t believe in commitment?” He arched a brow, wondering if he’d read her wrong.

  “I don’t believe in staying in a destructive situation just because you committed to it. My father and brother died, and I ended an engagement right before I finished college and I needed some space to think. When I came back I tried culinary school, but that didn’t work out, and then art school until I came up with the plan for catering.”

  “You were engaged to the guy who asked you um, play with others?” Somehow, that made the blow all the more devastating. Nearly as bad as what happened to him.

  Her lip quivered as she nodded.

  “What did you do?”

  “Cam, I’d rather if you pick a dish.” Her chest hitched with her ragged breath.

  “I’d rather know what happened.”

  “His mother sued me.” Her smile reappeared and he knew she’d found an angle to play. A way to evade him. Unless she showed him hers, he’d never dare to confess his. “She wanted damages for canceling the wedding. So I ran away to Europe for the summer and let him explain everything to his mother.”

  So she didn’t want to strip away the layers and be intimate, only physical. If she didn’t trust him with her past, she didn’t think they had a future. The realization should have calmed him, but he found it irksome.

  Not that he’d been more forthcoming.

  “Cameron?” While he’d been lost in thought she’d moved to stand in front of him. “Do you see anything you want to try?”

  He blinked, trying to focus on the task at hand. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, wondering where to start.

  “Wait a minute.” Cameron cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. A short wet kiss that confirmed his suspicions. “You’ve been eating peaches. And the only peach—” he moved his hand to his favorite option, one that would have her legs in the air so he could watch the show. “—is right here. And I do love peaches.”

  “That’s fine. But there is zucchini and eggplant on that plate too.”

  “You’re wicked.” He scanned the plethora of erotically styled food again. “Everything for you is a fruit, and everything for me is a vegetable.”

  “Not completely. There is the banana.”

  Cameron picked up the banana, intent on calling her bluff. But part of him couldn’t bring himself to put it in his mouth. “I’m never going to be able to eat a banana again.”

  “Then you’ll have no use for an ice cream maker.”

  What a tart. “So you’ll be eating peaches regularly?”

  “Cameron!”

  “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll eat your peach if you eat my banana.” He handed her the fruit, biting his cheek to keep from laughing.

  “Fine. You have me there.” She spun on her heel and marched to the other side of the kitchen, sliding on oven mitts and pulling an oblong pan from the oven. He watched steam rise as she scooped some of the creamy dish onto a plate. She slid open a drawer for a fork, shutting it with her hip.

  “What’s this?” He stared down at the plate of what resembled macaroni and cheese studded with red, green, yellow, and purple.

  “A compromise. All the veggies are chopped up and in your macaroni and cheese, from a box.”

  He groaned. “I want you. But I had a bagel for breakfast and nothing since.”

  Her laughed echoed through the room as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Then you should eat whatever you want.”

  “And I have a confession to make.”

  “You do?” She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “I’ll eat pretty much anything. I’m not as picky as you think, I simply get caught up with working and forget to eat.” He plucked the strawberry from between the splayed eggplant legs for effect, catching her smile.

  “You’re not picky?”

  “No. I just don’t want people I’m working with concentrating on crumbs on my shirt or stains on my tie instead of what I have to say.”

  “Well then, maybe you should lose the shirt so I’m not distracted from what you have to say tonight.”

  Cheesy macaroni warmed his mouth, but he was too preoccupied to taste much of anything as Lauren began to undress him with exaggerated slowness. Her fingers
rubbed at his wrist as she undid the buttons on his cuffs, tickled his chest as she popped open the ones on his shirt. She pulled his shirt from his slacks and reached for his belt.

  His hand covered hers. “Did you bring condoms?”

  “I’ve done all this, and you didn’t even buy condoms?”

  He only thought about it when his world slowed, usually right before drifting off at night. Not exactly peak shopping hours.

  “My pants should stay on then. But your dress should come off.” Setting down his fork, he reached for the peach and bit into it.

  Lauren wrapped her arms around him, licking his lips where a droplet of peach nectar had dribbled. His free hand followed the silken ribbon across her side, pressing into the warm, smooth flesh and over her rounded backside.

  “You’re not wearing panties, are you?”

  Her curls swished as she shook her head. “I stole condoms from Krista. Most of them are in your room.”

  He set the peach down on the counter, surveying the plates. Plucking the cherry from one platter he popped it into his mouth and turned back to her. “Lemons.”

  “Lemons?” Her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked.

  Through the thin silk of her gown he pinched her beaded nipple until she gasped. He pushed the strap from her shoulder, pinning her arm to her side and baring her full breast. Taking a lemon half from the platter, he squeezed the citrus against her chest, licking up every drop of tart juice before it reached her dress.

  The plum from the tip of the zucchini came next. He rubbed the fruit down her neck, kissing at the stickiness until he could taste her flesh. His hands worked to undo the sides of her dress, until it fell with a whoosh at their feet.

  “You make me so hungry, Lauren.” With the last vestiges of his self-control he framed her face in his hands and stared into her eyes, now heavy lidded with lust. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  She grinned and pulled a condom packed from beneath one of the platters. Her confident, knowing gaze that tickled at his soul. A look that proved their being together was a physical inevitability. A when, not an if. The vibrancy of her fantasy seeped around them, made him feel she didn’t simply want to act out her desires, but she wanted to act them out with him.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her across the room to the kitchen table. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling as he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the table. He silenced the girlish sound with his mouth, reminding her she was all woman.

  They worked together to peel off the rest of his clothes at record speed, leaving them bare together, except for her high-heeled sandals. She massaged his chest with her palms, her fingernails tracing the indentation of muscle on his shoulders, back, and stomach. Her touch was soft and tentative, but he needed more. Much more.

  Pulling her against him he lined up their bodies, pressing his need against her so she’d know how out of control she made him. His hands on her were hard and demanding. He’d been dreaming of her warm and willing beneath him all week. Now that he had the chance he was like a kid in a candy store, filling himself with everything at once.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him the control he needed. With his hand at the small of her back he moved her where he wanted her, kissing every inch of her body within reach. He nibbled across her jaw, nipped at her earlobe, placed butterfly kisses down her long neck, a long slow lick at the base of her throat. When he blew across her damp skin she shuddered, spreading her legs wider to rock her sex against his.

  His hands roved her breasts, learning what to do to make her writhe and sigh. Her ripe nipples were too much of an invitation to ignore, so his mouth engulfed them, licking and sucking until she began to moan and rock her slick heat against him.

  A few more seconds of that and it would be over for both of them. He stepped back just enough to protect them and looked into her beautiful green eyes, his gaze dripping from her glistening eyes, lips swollen from his kisses, breasts moist and puckered from his attention, to the sparse blonde hair hiding the secrets between her legs.

  His fingers began to tease her moist center, spreading her wetness over her swollen clit. Circling the bud of nerves with one finger, he traced her nether lips from the top to just below her entrance. He knelt down and parted her lips, his breath tickling her flesh. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, waiting for her to relax before adding another.

  Working an unhurried rhythm with his fingers he leaned closer, running his tongue along her folds. She gasped, her hands clenching the edge of the table. To steady her he propped her legs over his shoulders and settled in.

  “I’m supposed to seduce you.” She bucked against him, taking her pleasure through her protests.

  “I could stop.” He peeked up at her, desire flashing in her bright eyes.

  “No!” One hand pushed his head back to his task, the other reaching for the far side of the table. Her nails scratched at his scalp as he began flicking figure eights across her clit. She breathed words he didn’t take the time to decipher. Something about his hair being too short.

  He lifted her ass off the table and flattened his tongue against her, licking up and down to the tempo his fingers set. Soft breathy moans became the muted screams of climax. She clenched around his fingers as the surge of satisfaction washed over her body.

  The muscles of her stomach quivered with the remnants of her orgasm. Proof of pleasure that couldn’t be faked. He loved the volcanic passion he could coax from her.

  Before she recovered completely he stood, taking his place between her legs. He grasped her hips to center her and pushed her knees to her shoulders. Sliding the pad of his thumb over the bud of clit, he smiled as she opened her eyes. The tip of his rock-hard cock replaced his thumb and he explored every inch of her, covering himself in her wetness.

  “You want me to beg, don’t you?” She squirmed in her prone position, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she caught sight of their joining. “Damn. You’re even bigger than last time.”

  Modesty had no place here. “You turned me on even more with that orgasm.” He placed himself at her entrance.

  “My coming makes you –” she gasped as he eased himself inside.

  “Relax,” he whispered, replacing his thumb on her clit. He pushed deeper with gentle insistence, waiting for her slick sheath to gradually accept him. With a final thrust he buried himself inside her, a move that brought his name to her lips. She arched into him, and he caught her knees on his forearms.

  Locking her into place, a feeling pure and raw came over him. Absolute nirvana. He pulled back and then filled her with long slow strokes, enjoying every delicious inch of pleasure.

  “I can barely move.” She moaned, the faint blush of desire blooming across her glistening chest. He picked up speed, watching their joining with building excitement. Her head rolled back and she cried out in rapturous surrender.

  He matched her scream with one of his own, a perk to living in a house instead of an apartment he’d never considered. Complete privacy. He could take her on the back lawn and no one would know. On the deck, in the hot tub, in front of the fireplace, on the weight bench, the shower. Dear God, the possibilities were endless.

  As each scene flashed through his mind he moved faster, harder, his excitement building. Her legs straightened, her feet finding his shoulders. The change in position moved him impossibly deeper, and allowed him the use of a hand.

  Her normally sweet and breathy voice turned scratchy and throaty from shouting and the sound heightened his pleasure. As did watching her grip the opposite edge of the table, her breasts bouncing with his every thrust. He reached up and pinched her nipple, pulling and twisting until she screamed.

  She tossed her pale curls from side to side, and he knew she had to be close. So was he. Her legs went slack, falling from his shoulders onto his forearms a second before she tightened around his shaft. Hair covered her face, so he couldn’t see her, but he heard hitches in her breath, felt the s
pasmodic pulsing deep within. But what pushed him over the edge was the sound of his name on her tiny pants of breath.

  He leaned against the table as the climax rocked through his body, turning to the colors of a vibrant sunset behind his closed eyes. His entire body warmed, from his scalp to his toes and everywhere in between. He’d known sex with Lauren would be good, but this was life affirming.

  When the roaring in his ears stopped and he wasn’t chasing every breath, he stood up. Releasing her legs, he slid from her body. She made no move, legs dangling over the table edge. In fact, she didn’t stir at all.

  “Lauren?” He ran a hand up her body, slick with sweat. No response. “Babe?”

  His voice held a tremor he didn’t recognize. His heart thudded in his ears until she began to stretch her lithe body like a cat.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She kept stretching, her arms over her head, her toes pointing.

  “Let’s go upstairs and try the shower.” He reached for her arm, but she still stretched.

  “Not yet. I’m still rippling.”

  “Rippling?” What in the world?

  “Waves and then wakes, then ripples. You are amazing. I’ve never rippled with a man before.”

  He loved the way she gave words her own meaning. “How do you usually ripple?”

  “I’ll show you if you ever stay at my place.” With a sigh she sat up, reaching her arms overhead with a yawn. “I think we just hit the glass ceiling on sex. Wowza.”

  Her delicious grin deserved a kiss. Nibbling at her lips he stayed far enough away to whisper against her mouth. “We can do better. Imagine if you could move.”

  “Omigawd.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. “I think I’d die if it got better. But that’s how I want to go, so I’m game.”

  She slid her body against his as her feet found the floor and she stood, clutching him for support. Her eyes sparked with fire as she looked up at him.

  “Didn’t you say something about a shower?”

  “Cam? Are you sleeping?” Lauren whispered in the dark, tugging the blanket higher on her shoulder.

 

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