Cravings

by Dee Carney

  “Who’s he?” Lee grunted.

  “My sous. And apparently someone you’ve ticked off with your tow truck stunt. You were also incredibly rude to him.”

  “I was rude to him?”

  “Yeah. That was the world’s biggest pissing contest, except you were in his backyard, peeing on his tree.”

  Lee’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Did you just refer to yourself as a urine-soaked tree?”

  Ginger blinked. “I—but…wait…” She shook her head. “That wasn’t about me.”

  “Of course it was, darlin’.”

  “We’re just friends. He’s got a wife and a baby.”

  The relief that swept over Lee’s face was almost comical. “Still…he’s got feelings for you.”

  “Maybe. But friendly feelings. Not feeling feelings.”

  He shrugged. “Could be.”

  But…wait.

  “Is that what you have?” she asked quietly, her gaze moving away from him.

  “What?”

  “Friendly feelings.”

  Ginger waited, focused on her breathing. If she looked at him, he’d know she harbored more than friendly feelings for him. What she felt encompassed ache and need and want. What she had went way beyond friendly.

  She hated that their restaurants were barriers between them. They each had to survive in this tough market. Neither would ever allow the other to edge ahead. Every customer was precious and valuable. They would always, always be at each other’s throats.

  But this attraction to him… God, it crippled her.

  She lifted her gaze, and he stood right there in front of her again. The small room seemed even smaller. So close to him, Ginger smelled the familiar scents of the kitchen coming off his skin. It made her want to snuggle up to him, to place her face against the warm flesh of his neck and inhale deep. To feel comforted.

  He must have seen her hesitation. Chocolate-laced eyes focused on the way her lips parted and then closed, the protest of him moving into such an intimate position next to her dying before it formed.

  “Not friendly at all,” he whispered before his mouth moved to hers.

  Chapter Three

  His senses still smarted from the run-in with Ginger’s sous, but there’d been no thought behind taking her into his embrace. No decision, just pure instinct guiding him to capture her mouth with his. To drown himself in her taste.

  And her taste. God…

  Lee nibbled over the plump lines of her mouth, nipping when he wanted to devour. Their softness and fullness drugged him. When she parted her lips to push her tongue against his, the tender shyness behind it almost brought him to his knees.

  She drew back from him, blue eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

  He moved slowly, leaning in to nip at her moist lower lip. “Kissing you.”

  When she didn’t stop him or cringe or give him any indication that she wouldn’t allow him to continue, Lee closed his eyes and delved deeper into her mouth. Each caress opened her a little more to him, his tongue teasing out to taste her. A step brought him closer, bringing their bodies together, her softness a comfort to him.

  Ginger rested her hands against his pectorals, fingers twisting in to grip his shirt. A moment later, they relaxed only to grasp him again. He’d known all this time that he wanted this, to take things one step further, but obviously she still grappled with the idea, unsure as to whether she should hold on or let go.

  “This isn’t…a good idea.” She gasped the words, mouth hungrily moving over his. Her tongue curled around his, an acquiescence to the kiss.

  “Not at all,” he murmured in reply, but he wouldn’t be the one to pull away. Not now. They shouldn’t be doing this. It made their already complex relationship more complicated, but heaven help the person or thing that tried to stop him.

  He pulled her closer, needing to feel her body beneath his, and as he’d dreamed so many times before, she was soft and lush, with curves that begged to be caressed and held by him. She defined femininity in a way that made him give thanks for womankind. Even in the plain white T-shirt and black slacks, she might as well as have been wearing the filmiest lingerie.

  Her kisses made him drunk, the feel of her soft skin a pleasure to his senses.

  Ginger’s hands traveled to his hair, pushing between the locks, holding him as if she didn’t want the kiss to end and wouldn’t let him go so easily. Thing was, his thoughts mirrored hers.

  “What am I doing?” A mutter said between strokes of tongue and lips.

  “Don’t think,” Lee replied. If she thought, she might change her mind. She might realize she didn’t know him well enough to be at this point.

  She made a featherlight sound, his fingers reacting by cupping her breast. When the next sound—one of encouragement—followed, he squeezed gently, taking proprietary ownership for the moment. Giving her opportunity to stop him.

  Her hands flew to his arms, holding him closer. Tighter. An unspoken yes.

  Bunching the material beneath a clenched fist, he yanked down the collar of her shirt, his mouth following, hot and hungry. Worn material ripped beneath his assault, leaving a decadent gap of flesh available for his assault. He tasted the slight brininess of her skin, his tongue trailing a brand of his need. Another sound fell from her lips when he shoved her bra out of the way, exposing a rosy nipple to his view. Lee took it between his lips, tonguing it to a stiff peak.

  Ginger pushed a hand into his hair as he teased her nipple and kissed it with the same passion he’d delivered to her mouth. She moaned when he reached for her other breast, finding the nipple hard and tight and rolled it between fingers burning with urgency.

  “Jesus…Lee…”

  Blood roared through his ears as finally, finally, finally, Lee took the time to realize what he was doing. Who he was doing it with.

  “You don’t even like me,” she said breathlessly. Her face flushed, her lips kiss swollen.

  “That’s not true. I have nothing against you, Ginger. I admire you a lot. You do things your way, and you do what it takes. You don’t take any shit, and you’re a cook to watch.”

  Her hands continued to stroke up and down his chest, as if she needed to assure herself this was real. When one dipped a little lower, slipping beneath the material of his shirt to touch bare skin, Lee hissed in a breath from the wonderful shock of it. “You’re only saying that to get in my panties. And I don’t know if I should stop you because of that or if I should let you keep going because I really, really like it.”

  “What would it take for you to believe me?” There might be a smidgen of truth to what she said, but it didn’t constitute the entirety of the truth. Lee flicked his thumbs over pebbled nipples, cupping the weight of each breast in his hands. He lowered his mouth to the pink tips, tongue laving over each in turn. “It’s not just a line,” he murmured. “This didn’t occur to me yesterday, Ginger. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “Yeah? Based on what?”

  “Based on the first time I ever saw you.” He tipped his hips forward, straining erection pressing against her belly, all the evidence of his arousal she could possibly need. “You want me to tell you about how long I’ve been dreaming of kissing you like this?” His mouth captured hers, tongue plundering. “Of the nights I thought about fucking you hard. Ass in my hands, thighs wide and pussy available to me.”

  She shuddered. “You have a dirty mouth.”

  “And a dirtier mind.”

  Ginger bit him, a sharp sensation of impatience. “Tell me more.”

  He loved that she didn’t shy away. He’d always known she was a strong woman, and this only supported the notion.

  Lee pulled on the fabric, the ripping sound filling him with perverse pleasure as he exposed more of her skin. “I want to sink my cock into that wet pussy. Feel you squeeze me tight. I bet it’s so wet right now, quivering with anticipation.”

  The blush that lit her cheeks made his already solid erection grow harder.
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  “Should I touch you now, darlin’? Put my fingers inside your cunt… How many can you handle? Two…three?”

  Ginger’s mouth fell open, the rapid rise and fall of her chest betraying her excitement. Whatever doubts she might have harbored earlier had perhaps been replaced by sexual curiosity. A desire to know just how filthy his mind could be, whether his words spoke true.

  If she knew anything about him—anything at all—she’d know he laid it on easy. He knew what he liked, and he knew how to give it. Some words were for shock value, but some were warnings of what she could expect beneath him. He’d spent hard time on the streets, and some habits never went away. Especially not a mouth that made sailors blush.

  “Tell me what you need, and I’ll tell you how I’ll give it to you,” he murmured, a quick flicker of tongue over her parted lips.

  Ginger whimpered, the softest, most sexual sound he’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. “I…”

  “Aw, shit! Sorry, Chef! Didn’t realize you were still here.”

  Lee spun toward the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and then the office door slammed shut. The scent of tobacco smoke lingered, the only indication someone else had just been in the room.

  His gaze dropped to Ginger’s face, the lovely flush she’d worn just moments ago now leeched from her skin. She covered her mouth with trembling hands, and the sight made Lee’s stomach turn on itself.

  “Oh my God,” Ginger cried. “OhmyGod. Did he… Bobby?”

  “Who was that? What just happened?”

  She jerked away from Lee as if scalded. He stood ready to catch her, the wobble in her walk testifying to just how deeply being interrupted affected her.

  Drawing deep breaths, she tilted her head back, and Lee fought with whether or not to move closer. But what would he offer? Condolences for one of the most erotic kisses he’d ever experienced? Sympathy for having finally gotten the chance to touch her as he’d wanted?

  He didn’t know what to say or how to help her deal, especially when all he wanted in the world was a repeat performance, barring the interruption.

  When she finally faced him again, her eyes were molten pools of livid energy, jaw set tight. She snatched at the edges of her torn clothing, gathering them in a white-knuckled fist. “That,” she said with a low voice, heat carrying the word, “was one of my line. Who just saw me naked with a business rival. Who heard me making out. Who has probably lost all respect for me.”

  Oh shit.

  “He didn’t see anything.” Lee couldn’t be certain, but he felt confident enough to say it. With his back to the door, his bulk covering her petite frame, anyone would have been hard-pressed to see her. But it wouldn’t have been very hard for someone to have overheard their vulgar conversation. Especially his end of it. “I’ll go out and check on him. You wait here.”

  “Uh-uh.” Ginger shoved him aside, going to a small filing cabinet tucked into the corner. The drawer flew open as she pulled it with more force than necessary, the metal-on-metal screech grating against his fraying nerves. “You don’t need to do a thing,” she said hotly. “I will go out and see about salvaging the damage.”

  If she walked out of the room right now, blood boiling, the one miniscule chance he’d ever had at becoming her lover would be obliterated. He had to find a way to get her to talk to him. To see that the repercussions could not be as bad as she imagined.

  “Let me help. You don’t need to do this alone.”

  Ginger sighed, and he hoped she considered his offer. After dumping the damaged T-shirt on the floor, though, she pulled a clean one over her head and kept her gaze on the door. “Just go, Lee. I don’t know what I was thinking to let things get that far. Really, I wasn’t thinking. Please. Just…go.”

  Shame traveled through her, the annoying inability to vanish into thin air not making it any better. She’d known some of the staff had lingered after Lee had stopped by, yet she’d allowed almost a year of no sex and a gorgeous chef to distract her from doing the appropriate thing, which would have been to stop before things had gotten this far.

  Jesus. Naked. In front of Lee…and now Bobby. What would happen when he told others he’d seen the boss half-dressed and making out? Running a kitchen of hot-blooded males proved difficult enough on most days. If she’d lost the respect of her team because of an indiscretion and poor judgment, the interruption might ripple out into service. And then the customers. The effects on her business could be monumental.

  Why had Lee allowed it? It wasn’t like she cast all blame on him, but damn it, getting hot and dirty in the business office of a restaurant just didn’t seem his thing. He was the kind of guy who probably had a king-size bed at home, black satin sheets and a wall-size mirror eclipsing the room. If his partner ranked at a certain level on his guy-meter, maybe there’d even be candles. Definitely wine.

  This foul-mouthed, dirty guy who’d threatened to put three fingers inside her… Oh wow. That she had not been expecting.

  Done straightening her clothes, she caught sight of Lee studying her as if he wanted to say something or maybe do something but didn’t know how to start. It made her pause, the expression on his face troubled yet determined. At that moment, she noticed his kiss-swollen lips and the way his always perfectly coifed hair now looked toyed with. His shirt hung askew, even while tucked into perfectly pressed pants, the collar crushed and limp. Without a doubt, he’d been thoroughly debauched by her. The thought made her heart do a somersault.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he said hoarsely.

  If she hadn’t heard the awe in his voice, she might have been miffed by the compliment. Then again, she thought the same thing about him. She loved this sleepy-eyed Lee, the one who looked like he’d spent the past two hours beneath the skills of a master masseuse. Except in this case, he’d spent his time making out with her pretty damned good. “You’re not so bad yourself,” Ginger replied, despite herself.

  “Wait. Before you leave…” He ambled a little closer. “This thing between us…”

  “What would you call it?” She knew what she called it: the pathway to sex. Glorious, glorious sex, if the past several minutes meant anything. As a single chef with crazy insane hours, her opportunities to get horizontal were few and far in between. The only men available to her ended up being those on her own staff, which was so not about to happen.

  Although his mouth opened, he didn’t say anything at first. The silence could have been awkward, but she understood his hesitation to answer her question. Admitting that perhaps they were in the beginnings of a tenuous relationship brought with it a tumult of additional questions. But biggest and in flashing colors was the dilemma of their restaurants.

  That was too big a question. One they’d never be able to reconcile to both their satisfactions.

  Heart sinking, she realized there wasn’t really an answer for that. Until or unless one of them moved shop, they would always be rivals. But really, what could be done? It was one thing to be competitors across the city from one another; fifty feet away was a different matter.

  He would have to admit it. They could not harmoniously, successfully be together.

  “I think we should see where it goes. Take it one step at a time,” Lee said.

  Ginger stiffened, uncertain. Maybe he’d thought of a way to keep things civil. An almost impossible feat, but maybe there was a way. Did she really want there to be a way, though? “Oh,” she replied, unsure of what else could be said.

  “Oh?” He moved in closer, and although every instinct told her to take a step back, she stood her ground. “That’s not quite what I expected to hear you say.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “After what we just did? I expected different. I expected…”

  “What?”

  He shoved a hand into his hair. “I don’t know. Something more. Something maybe happy out of you. That—what we just did—was incredible for what it was and long past due. Can you really blame a guy for expecting…I don’
t know…”

  “Gratitude?” she asked, certain he couldn’t mean that.

  His brow lifted a fraction, a little shrug of the shoulder, and she knew she’d hit the nail on the head. The smug bastard hadn’t been looking for long-term. He’d been looking for a way to stroke his damned ego.

  “Wow.” Her mouth fell open. “You really believe that. You really think I should be grateful for almost doing the nasty with you.”

  Lee’s face reddened, but Ginger couldn’t tell if he reacted to being embarrassed or to being caught. “Perhaps gratitude is too strong a word.”

  “The oh-so-celebrated Lee Solomon stuck his tongue down my throat, and I’m supposed to become one of your groupies, flocking to your restaurant for just a glimpse of you.”

  “Did you or did you not have a good time?”

  Ginger stopped short, righteous indignation bubbling up and over, spilling like molten lava in her blood. Deadly calm, she said, “I cannot believe that you are such an arrogant ass. And the worst part is I already knew that but almost hooked up with you anyway.”

  “It’s something we both wanted. Maybe needed.”

  “Well, don’t worry, baby, I will not make that same mistake twice.”

  His eyes stormed, but his expression stayed smooth and passive. “Ginger, don’t do this. Let’s talk or something.”

  “I need to go salvage my relationship with my staff member. As for you, nothing more to say except get out of my restaurant.” Anger at him, at herself, made her vision blur red. “Oh, and one other thing. I’ll see you at Food Fighters.”

  Chapter Four

  From his car that night, Lee watched her leave the restaurant, unwilling to break his word to Ginger’s sous chef that he would ensure her safety. In hindsight, maybe he should have been waiting for her, refusing to move until they’d talked it out, but at two o’clock in the morning, the fight hadn’t been in him.

  After a few days of cooling down, however, the world was different. He replayed every second of kissing her. Tasting her. Touching her. Over and over until he couldn’t be sure if what he remembered was real or fantasy.