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Black Forest Cake

Hot Except 

Saffron smiled as he sat. “I’ll admit the last thing I expected was to be dining with you.”

“It’s not an experience I provide often,” August replied. Ever was more like it. “But in this case, I felt an exception was warranted.” He pushed forward the tray, which held four Japanese spoons of delicacies. “I only ask that you indulge me a bit.”

“Indulge you?” Her gaze snapped up from the appetizer tray to meet his.

“If you would, please. Allow me the honor of feeding you.”

That blush. So damned sexy.

August leaned forward and picked up one of the spoons. The shaved slices of scallop intermingled with his own blend of roasted peppers and then topped with savory and papaya had been stacked with painstaking care. “A sip of your wine and then open.”

His mouth went dry. One minute it watered, but now, watching her swallow Chardonnay, it might as well have been stuffed with cotton balls. August licked his lips, then offered Saffron the spoon. “Now open,” he said gently.

He couldn’t stop himself from drooling when her plump lips opened. Couldn’t shake the hardening of his cock when a pink tongue extended. Blood pounded in his ears as she closed her mouth around the ceramic. And fuck, when she made that little delightful sound in the back of her throat, he almost ground his teeth into powder.

Eyes closed, Saffron chewed slowly. Her eyebrows drew together in concentration and August found himself imagining the explosion of tastes greeting her. “Oh my, that’s good,” she said after a pause.

“Sip the wine again.” Husky. A quick sip and she made that noise again. The one that made every muscle in his body tighten with anticipation.

“August, I’m about to embarrass myself with pleasure here. That is a true masterpiece. And it’s just the amouse-bouche? I cannot wait to see what’s next on the menu.”

“Good.” A smile curved his lips before he realized what in hell he was doing.

She was the enemy. A spy. Sent here to make his world-class cuisine as commonplace as one of the fast food places down the road. Perhaps. Time would only tell. In the meanwhile, he’d remain cautious.

If he wanted to remain a few steps ahead of Francis, his biggest rival, instead of showing off with some of the dishes he’d been working on during his day off, he needed to send her packing. Oh, but damn, why did she have to pick up a second spoon and take another delicate bite?

He had to see her expression brighten with unadulterated joy again. Had to. He found himself leaning forward just to catch the softest purr of approval. Breath held, he waited until he heard it before exhaling again.

Occupational hazard, he reassured himself while also straightening. The need to know every diner left satisfied. Nothing else. Anything else was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.

 

 

About the Author

Dee Carney started her writing career in elementary school, creating amazing journeys starring her friends, where everyone lived happily ever after by page five. Since then, she’s been a waitress, a teacher, a scientist and a nurse.

Today, Dee is a best-selling, award-winning author of over thirty novels and novellas, including those penned by her erotica writing alter ego, Morgan Sierra.

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