The Cinderella Cook-Off (The Feminine Mesquite Book 1)

by Sable Sylvan

  “Is there room for two up there?” asked Herbert.

  “No, this spot is taken,” said Alice. “It’s for people with trophies, see?” She motioned to her small gold trophy.

  “Really? Because it looks big enough for two,” said Herbert, getting up onto the podium and lifting Alice’s curves up with one swoop.

  What the heck had just happened? One second, Alice was standing on the podium, and the next, she was in Herbert’s arms? And why the heck did he smell so frikkin’ good?

  “Looks like I got my trophy after all,” whispered Herbert, and Alice looked up into his deep blue-gray eyes. It was like she was watching a storm. A flash went off. Were his eyes lit from the inside by some mysterious force?

  Herbert motioned with his eyes towards the crowd.

  “Look to the camera,” said Herbert.

  Alice barely had time to turn her face and plaster on a smile before the photographer took another photo using the flash. That had to be what it was, right? The flash of the camera must’ve reflected off of Herbert’s eyes.

  The second and third place winners got off the podium, and Herbert let Alice down gently onto the second place podium.

  “Looks like you’re in second after all,” said Herbert.

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” said Alice, stepping down and onto the ground. “I got first place and so did you. Are you going to call off the pack of werewolves you call your lawyers or are you not a man of your word?”

  Herbert stepped off the platform, and before he could say anything, the announcer came up to them.

  “We’re so sorry that we don’t have another first place trophy,” said the announcer. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “One of us must’ve actually won, though, right?” said Alice.

  “Surely one of us scored higher than the other,” said Herbert.

  “Nope! You both scored a four point nine seven five,” said the announcer. “I know, it’s a statistical anomaly, but, you’re a shifter, aren’t you, Mr. Scoville?”

  “What gave it away?” asked Herbert, exposing his palms. Alice was bubbling with rage. How was he so dang charming all the time? And why did it work on everyone, including the announcer…and Alice?

  “Well, maybe it’s Fate,” said the announcer. “After all, I know that Fate doesn’t like to mess around with couples. She brings them together.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Alice.

  “Oh, I’m sure your boyfriend knows more about Fate than I do,” said the announcer. “I’m just a human, but, I can tell you two must really be in love. You’re a gorgeous couple, y’know?”

  Before Alice could correct her, the announcer’s phone rang.

  “That’s me, I gotta run,” said the announcer. “But y’all are lovely, y’hear?”

  “Ugh,” said Alice. “I can’t believe she thought we were a couple. Where were we, Scoville? Oh, yeah. The suit. Are you gonna leave me and my kin alone, or is this going to escalate?”

  “I only agreed to call it off if you won and I lost,” said Herbert. “We tied. Obviously, Fate doesn’t want us to settle this with a cook-off.”

  “So now what, are you going to take me to court?” asked Alice.

  “No,” said Herbert. “Like I said, Fate’s throwing me a curveball. That is a term you Americans use, yes? Well. I’m not about to play a game of baseball with Fate.”

  “So how do you think we should settle this?” asked Alice.

  “You and I are both on a hunt for the same thing, so let’s just catch our prey, and catch a meal,” said Herbert. “We’ll talk about this in private, just you and me, the heirs to our respective fortunes, or lack thereof.”

  “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” asked Alice, arms crossed. “You want to negotiate?”

  “Negotiate, date, to-may-to, to-mah-to. You, me, a nice bottle of red wine, at the steakhouse of your choice,” said Herbert. “Unless you’re chicken.”

  “You’re on,” said Alice.

  “Usually girls say yes when I ask them on a date, but I guess ‘you’re on’ works too,” said Herbert. “See you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter Six

  Alice had told her sisters what Herbert had told her once they were back home and everyone was together sipping tea in the living room.

  “That rat bastard thinks he can blackmail you into a date?” said Addison, putting her tea down and crossing her arms.

  “Well, if it’s what I gotta do to save Grandpa’s legacy, I’ll go on one stupid date,” said Alice. “And that is all it will be: one stupid date. After the date this Friday, I won’t have to see Herbert or any of the other Scoville bastards again. His grandfather started this, but I’m going to finish it.”

  “You tell’m,” said Abigail.

  “I don’t know,” said Cayenne.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine after this,” said Alice. “I have to admit, I think Herbert’s a man of his honor.”

  “Well, duh, he’s a shifter,” said Savina. “They might be primal and absolutely beastly sometimes, but they’ve got integrity. You’ve got to give’m that.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Cayenne coyly before taking another sip of her herbal tea.

  “What do you mean?’ asked Alice.

  “I mean, what if you two hit it off?” asked Cayenne. “After all, you haven’t gone on a date since…wait, how long has it been?”

  “I’ve been on dates,” said Alice. “Just, none worth talking about.”

  “But we’re talking about this one,” said Cayenne.

  “What are you trying to say?” asked Alice.

  “I’m saying maybe you’ll have fun, maybe you won’t, but, you should go into this with an open mind,” said Cayenne.

  “I guarantee that this isn’t a serious date,” said Alice. “That Scoville jerkass is just playing a trick on me. But, if it means we save Grandpa’s sauces…”

  “Forget the sauce recipes,” said Cayenne. “I don’t think that he cares about the recipes.”

  “Then why else would he still be in town?” asked Alice.

  “If he cared, wouldn’t he have had his lawyers take care of things?” asked Cayenne. “Instead, he accepted your challenge to a frikkin’ cook-off, and did you see the way he’s been looking at you and acting around you? I don’t think it can be any more obvious. He likes you. That’s right. A polar bear billion-heir, if you’ll pardon the pun, wants you, Alice. That’s why he’s here. It’s not about some sauce.”

  “You really think so?” asked Alice.

  “Ugh, Kai, you need to get your head out of the clouds,” said Abigail. “Men are pigs, and that applies to polar bear shifters too. They’re nothing but trouble. You’ll do well to remember that, given you’re going into sophomore year. Trust me on this. What happens is guys who slept around freshman year go and ask girls to be their girlfriends in sophomore year, and then, the guys dump them before graduation. The guys get three years of free sex because you know they don’t treat a girl right, and the girls look back on the time they spent in college and can’t believe they were so naive.”

  “Somebody speaking from experience?” asked Savina.

  “Whatever, I don’t want to talk about Jason,” said Abigail. “And you better focus on your studies, Sav. No drama, no way, no how. You got me?”

  “Whatever,” said Savina. “You and Alice need to get boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends, schmoyfriends,” said Alice. “All that matters right now is getting the company back up and running. We missed out on sales all summer, but, autumn is coming up, and with that, Thanksgiving. People are going to need something to spice up their turkeys.”

  “The real question is, what are you going to wear to spice up your date?” teased Addison.

  “Ugh, just jeans and a blouse,” said Alice.

  “Come on,” said Addison. “Kai, Sav, you gotta hit the hay, but Allie, Abby…I think it’s makeover time.”

  * * * />
  The man took off his belt and his necktie. He made the belt into a loose loop, wrapped it around Alice’s wrist, and tightened it until the leather was against her wrist and then, loosened it by about an inch, before tying the leather belt to the bedpost.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?” asked Alice.

  “Who said I was done with you?” asked the man, putting his leg between her ample hips.

  She bucked up and pressed her sex against his thigh, rubbing herself against him as if he were a mere fucking-post.

  The man took off his necktie, loosening it but not unknotting it, and placed that around Alice’s other wrist. He tied the necktie to the bedpost.

  “You think that this will be enough to keep me bound?” asked Alice. “I can slip out of these easily. See?” Alice slipped her hands out of the loops.

  The man reached in through the loops and held Alice’s hands, their fingers entwined, her delicate human fingers against his big strong shifter hands. He pulled her hands back into the loops as he rubbed his upper leg against the spot between Alice’s legs, driving her wild. She gripped his hands tighter, but he slipped her hands onto the lengths of leather and silk that connected her wrists to the bed posts.

  “That’s why you’re tied up,” said the man. “It’s not to keep you tied up. It’s to keep you tied down.”

  “I still don’t understand,” said Alice.

  “Oh, but you will,” said the man. He pulled the pocket square out of his suit.

  “Don’t move,” warned the man. He twisted the pocket square’s corner so that he could thread it between the eyeholes of Alice’s mask, and once the pocket square was threaded into both holes, he fluffed the pocket square up over her eyes and tucked the fabric underneath the rest of the mask. He had managed to turn his pocket square into a makeshift blindfold.

  “You can’t see me, can you?” asked the man.

  “No,” said Alice, opening her eyes underneath the soft silk fabric. “I mean, I can see you, your form, but not…” Her breath was taken away. She could see through the silk fabric, but it was like she was watching shadow puppets through a screen. She could only see the silhouette of the man, the light streaming in from behind him. She watched as he took off his mask, revealing a chiseled, handsome face. She wondered what he must look like under the mask. It was obvious he was handsome. Did he realize he was being watched? He must’ve.

  “But not my features,” said the man. “Good.” The man tossed the mask aside.

  The man got between Alice’s legs and reached up, finding her panties and slipping them off of her gently. The panties stuck to Alice’s wet lower lips for a second before the man pulled them away and gently placed them on the other bed.

  The man went back between Alice’s legs and didn’t get on his stomach. No…he pulled Alice’s legs up so that they were up around his shoulders, and he grabbed her hips with his hands, firmly but gently, before going to town with his tongue.

  Alice had never felt anything like this before, and she now knew why he’d told her she’d need to be tied down, not tied up.

  She felt like she was floating.

  No man had ever treated her this way, treated her like a princess with both words and actions. So many men had been slick, charismatic, but had nothing to offer in the sack. This man was not like any other man she’d been with. He could talk a big game, but he could also deliver. He was a man of his word, that much was obvious, and his lips and tongue could do more than just sweet talk. They could make her feel absolute ecstasy.

  With every kiss of his firm but soft lips against her inner lips, she grabbed onto the restraints, afraid she’d float away.

  With every swirl of his tongue against her clit, she wrapped her wrists even tighter against the restraints, stopping herself from pulling away from him, as the pleasure was so great that it was almost painful.

  With every pull of his arms, pulling her closer to his mouth, she had to pull herself away, pushing herself from him, but of course, he was stronger, and got what he wanted, what she wanted, which was to have his mouth on that glistening honeypot, eating it up like ambrosia.

  That’s why Alice realized the blindfold was necessary: if she didn’t have on a blindfold, then she’d have to watch this go on, and that would be practically pornographic because it was obvious that this handsome man was skilled and was entirely focused on pleasuring her. Watching him take her body to new heights would have made her climax instantly. Even though the man was bringing her to climax faster than anyone else had before, it still felt as if it was taking an agonizing amount of time. She needed something extra to push her past the brink, something he had, that he could give her, hard and fast, and fast and hard.

  “I’m so close,” said Alice. “Please…inside me, now.”

  The man gently placed Alice back down before undoing his fly. He didn’t manage to get himself fully naked. He had pressed his cock against Alice’s entrance and pressed in. With a hard thrust, he entered Alice, and Alice was taken on a ride.

  Just the feeling of fullness was enough to drive Alice to the edge. She couldn’t help but let go of the restraints. There was something she wanted to touch. She slipped her wrists through the leather and silk loops and reached up to the man, feeling along his shirt until she found his buttons. She carefully undid each button and then, pulled the two sides of the shirts apart from one another.

  Alice reached in, past the shirt, and felt the man’s torso. It was just like she’d hoped it would be: firm, practically juicy. She reached up. She ran her fingers over his chest and felt something. What was it? It felt rough, and she tried to figure out what it was from the shape. There was a curved base, flat sides, and the top had points topped with circles. She tried to draw the shape in her head, closing her eyes and tracing over the chest with her fingers. That’s when she realized what it must be…a crown. What did that make them? Was he a prince, or was he her crown, and was she the princess?

  Alice heard a countdown. People were shouting. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

  “I’m close,” he said huskily. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  Six, Five, Four…

  “Then don’t,” said Alice, pulling the man closer to her as she felt the energy that built up inside of her let loose, rocking her hips against his waist like a wave against a rock in a storm…

  * * *

  Alice couldn’t get the thought of the recurring dream out of her head. She tried to clean to distract herself, but every rub of the dish towel against the wet dishes reminded her of the way the mysterious man had rubbed her skin. The doorbell rang, and she quickly looked at her reflection in the microwave glass and made sure she looked presentable before going to answer the door.

  Alice was not the first person to get to the door. No, it was Abigail, who had been hanging out with the other three sisters in the living room. They were all in their pajamas and were looking for something interesting to watch, but all that was on was reruns.

  Alice walked into the foyer and saw that Abigail already had her hands on her hips and was giving Herbert a piece of her mind.

  “And you’re going to have her back by…?” asked Abigail.

  “I can’t make any promises,” said Herbert. “But I’ll make sure she gets home in one piece.”

  “Ha-ha, real funny, shifter,” said Abigail, crossing her arms and giving Herbert the once over.

  Alice looked over Herbert. Was he wearing a suit? She hadn’t expected him to look that fancy! He even had on a tie and cufflinks, and was that a pocket square? Yup, he had a pocket square, nice leather shoes, and a watch that looked like it cost more than the Quincy house.

  “Hey,” said Alice. “You look─”

  “Not as breathtaking as you do,” said Herbert, looking at Alice and almost dropping what was in his hands. “Looks like I won first prize after all.”

  Alice had always taken his breath away. That much he could admit. From the moment they first met, when she was giving him a piece o
f her mind in her formal black clothes that, as frumpy as they were, couldn’t hide her ample curves, to their second meeting where she had been wearing shorts, a tight tank, and even with a mommy purse, looked like sex on legs, to their third meeting at the cook-off, where the apron had covered her body but couldn’t cover her shapely bosom or hips, he had felt something for her. He had thought it had to just be animal magnetism. After all, what kind of shifter could resist a woman with birthing hips, with cushion for the pushing?

  But this Alice…this was not an Alice he had met. This was not Alice-in-mourning. This wasn’t Alice-at-the-fair, nor was it Alice-the-workaholic-chef-out-for-a-vengeance. No, this was Alice. Her hair usually pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, was loose, hitting her curved shoulders. Her face had been made up, but the makeup wasn’t what mattered. There was a vulnerability behind the mascara and blush which made him feel as if he needed nothing more than to protect Alice from all the evils in the world, even if that include him.

  “If this is second, I can’t complain. But…you look formal,” said Alice, crossing her arms. “I don’t know where we’ll be going where you won’t be totally and entirely overdressed. It’s tacky, you know.”

  “I know,” said Herbert with a smile. “Trust me, I know. And trust me, I won’t be overdressed, although, will you be a bit chilly in that?”

  Alice looked down. She was wearing a gingham dress with cap sleeves that she had borrowed from Addison, and while she felt like she belonged in a bad production of some hokey play set on a prairie, she wasn’t chilly.

  “Why would I be chilly?” asked Alice. “It’s eighty degrees, and it’s eight at night.”

  “I run hot,” said Herbert. “Shifter, you know. So, I wanted to make sure you didn’t need to grab a jacket before we left.”

  “It might get cold,” admitted Alice. “I’ll grab a hoodie, and we can go.”

  “Wait just a hot minute,” said Abigail. “I want to know what Herbert intends on doing with you tonight.”