BURN (The HEAT Series Book 1) (5 page)

I had ached for him to kiss me on the sidewalk in front of my apartment. He might have if the woman, who lives above me, hadn't brushed past us with her hands holding tightly to a large cardboard box. As she struggled to unlock the door to our building, Tyler had taken the box from her. He followed her inside, with me falling in step behind both of them.

We rode the elevator up to her floor together. I stood in the lift, pressing the button to hold the doors as he helped her lug the box inside her place. I didn’t ask if he wanted to come in when I stepped off the elevator on my floor and walked to my door to unlock it. He stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

"It felt like that box was filled with bricks," he finally says with a grin. "Is your neighbor a bricklayer, Cadence?"

I shrug my shoulders as I take a step toward him. "She might be. I don't talk much to my neighbors."

"You know why it slays me that he touched you, don't you?"

I would be startled by the abrupt shift in conversation if I didn't know who he's talking about. "I know why, yes."

There's a brief moment of hesitation before he steps toward me. "You deserve better than that. A woman like you deserves someone…"

"Like you?" I interrupt as my hands clench together in front of me.

"Like me," he repeats with an arch of his brow. "You've felt the same thing I have since that first day in the restaurant."

"What have I felt?" My hands skim over the fabric covering my stomach. "The draw toward you? The wonder about what it would be like?"

His eyes follow the path of my hands. "What it will be like between us. What it will feel like when I kiss you, when I…"
"When you touch me," I say brazenly as my right hand inches up my body, over my breast to my neck.

He's on me before another word falls from my lips. One hand curves around the back of my neck, the other grips my waist. He nudges his nose along my jawline, pulling in my scent, moaning as he trails his lips along my skin.

"You've been torturing me," he whispers into my skin. "The way you smell, the sound of your voice."

"You don't touch the women you work with," I say softly. "I know the rule."

His lips press into mine, soft and warm. The kiss is as tender as the low groan that spills out of him. "I've never worked with a woman like you."

I give in then, fisting the fabric of his black sweater as I open my mouth and let his tongue glide over mine.

***

"Don't move, Cadence." His breath rushes over my ass. "I'll eat your cunt again if you move."

Is that a threat? If it is, I'm about to wiggle my ass uncontrollably just so I can get that talented tongue of his back onto my heated flesh.

The man is as good in the bedroom as he is in the kitchen. He licked my cleft slowly, excruciatingly slowly, until I practically begged him to get me off. He did with his tongue flicking my clit, and his finger inside me, honed in on the spot that drives me wild. If they gave out Michelin stars for what he just did to me, he would have a dozen.

And I haven't even touched him yet.

I'd taken him by the hand to my bedroom before I locked the door behind us. He was on me immediately, yanking and pulling at my blouse, my skirt and my lingerie until they ended up, with his clothes, in a twisted heap on the floor.

His body is incredible, more than I even imagined it would be. Hard muscles, tight abs, tattoos for days. He's as ripped as he looks beneath his chef's jacket and the erection that I felt pressing against me through his jeans earlier, came to life in the form of a big, beautiful, thickly veined cock with a wide crown.

He'd pushed me onto my stomach after he brought me to orgasm with his tongue, lips and teeth. I had whined loudly, protesting because I wanted to take him the same way, but he resisted. Instead, he pulled me up to my knees so he could bite my ass, kiss it and then lick me from behind.

I'm quivering now, my pussy aching for something, anything to push me over the edge again. I'd touched myself under his watchful eye, wanting him to wrap his dick so he can slam it into me.

The bed shifts under his weight as he moves behind me. I hear him open the drawer of my nightstand. It's
that
drawer, the one with the condoms, lube and my battery operated almost-boyfriend.

He doesn't say anything. The only sound in the room is his heavy breathing and the faint tear as he opens the condom package.

His hand runs between my legs. He grunts before the tip of his cock even touches my folds.

"Ah, you're so fucking wet." His voice betrays him. It cracks as he thrusts forward and into me.

The force pushes me from my knees but he's quick, he scoops a hand underneath me, pulling me back and onto his cock. I gasp at the depth, the width, at how completely he fills me. The ache it awakens only fuels my desire to push back against him with every drive of his hips.

"How do you want it?" he hisses the words into my ear. "Do you want me to fuck you hard, Cadence? Is that what you want?"

"Yes," I murmur softly. "Hard, please."

He grunts loudly as he pushes me back onto my hands and knees. His foot flies to the bed for leverage. His cock pulses inside me with deep, measured strokes as his hands grip tightly to my hips.

I feel his fingers tangle in my hair before he pulls my head back with a quick tug. My pussy tightens around him in response. He curses, loudly, words that I usually hear from his mouth in the restaurant's kitchen, fly into the air around me. Then there's more. They're the words that push me over the edge.

"You're cunt is so tight. You're made to be fucked like this. You want my cock, don't you?"

I cry out when I come, my hands fisting in the sheets as he slaps my ass hard before he pumps out his own release.

"I'd like to speak to you in private."

I had hoped that it would be Tyler beside me, but it's not. It's one of the co-owners of Nova, Hunter Reynolds. He's been in the restaurant since I got here today, arranging and sorting. He and his father own several restaurants along the east coast. I worked for him at Axel too but he never noticed me there. I was one of the dozens who came and went. The kitchen there, like here at Nova, is an ever changing landscape of faces.

It's like that in this business. People invest themselves and then they leave; they seek out opportunity wherever they can find it.

"Sure, Mr. Reynolds." I wipe my hands on my side towel. "I can finish this as soon as we're done."

I'm on salad prep today. It's not my regular job but the sous chef who typically handles it is out sick. We all have to pick up the slack if there's a void in the kitchen. We run like well oiled machinery, every part dependent on the others for things to work at their optimum.

"Follow me."

I stare at his back as I walk a step behind him through the kitchen. No one turns to look. Each has a job to do and since dinner service begins in ninety minutes, their only focus is getting everything in order before the crowds appear.

The front of the house manager announced we were booked solid tonight. She does that every day. A table at Nova is fast becoming a rarity. Only those with recognizable names can book now, and they always end up at the chef's table with Tyler at their service.

He finally stops walking when we reach the small office at the back of the restaurant. He turns then, his hands dropping to his sides. "I saw you on television with Chef Monroe."

I scratch my eyebrow. I can't tell if he's excited by what he saw or if it pissed him on in some way. "I thought the segment went well."

"Darrell made a wise choice when he picked you to appear with Tyler. You're a great spokesperson for the Nova brand." He leans against the doorframe. "Two of the chefs from Axel did a segment three days ago on the same show."

I don't ask if it was Brendon because I don't give a fuck. I don't track what he does. I no longer look at his Instagram or Twitter feeds to see what his life entails. I stopped doing that a week after we broke up.

"It was fun when Tyler and I were on," I say honestly. "I was nervous but once I started cooking, I really enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear that, Chef."

I smile a little. I shouldn't take as much perverse pleasure as I do hearing him call me that, since he does it to almost everyone working in the kitchen. He values his chefs.

One day at Axel I overheard him tell another chef that he respects us all so much because he can't cook a fried egg. I don't believe that for a minute. He's a good man to work for. I'm glad I'm building my career while doing the best job I can for him.

"The show wants you back on." His gaze drops when he pulls his smartphone from the pocket of his pants after it chimes. "I told them I'd speak to you about it first."

I watch as he reads something on his phone before he tucks it back in his pocket. I want his full attention. I also want to respect his time. "I'd love to do the show again."

"They're doing grilling week features next week. I thought you and Tyler could prepare the octopus dish that he just introduced. I'll speak to him about it as well."

"That sounds great," I say excitedly. "I'm looking forward to it."

"You wouldn't happen to know if he's coming in for dinner service, would you?" His phone chimes again but this time he ignores it. "I've been trying to reach him all day."

I haven't seen him since I kissed him goodbye at my apartment door on Saturday night. He left shortly before Sophia came home. I didn't tell her about any of it. She'd gone straight to bed and yesterday, she spent the entire day at another fashion design conference while I worked on fine-tuning a few new recipes in our kitchen.

"I'm not sure, sir." I look at the clock on the wall. "Sometimes he arrives right before service starts."

I'll hang around for that." He motions toward the doorway. "I'll let you get back to work. Thank you again, Chef."

"You handled yourself well at service tonight, Cadence," Tyler says as his shoulder brushes against mine. "You're improving daily. I sometimes find it hard to believe that you just graduated from culinary school."

I smile as I look at him. "I'm a quick learner, Chef."

"That she is," Maribel chimes in as she walks past us with a handful of carrots. "I'm gathering together some of the overripe produce for the shelter down the block. Do you want to help, Den?"

She picked up the nickname from Sophia. They had lunch together today near Sophia's office. Maribel's husband owns a boutique clothing store in Chelsea. It was news to me until Sophia filled me in via text this afternoon. She's planning on showing Maribel her portfolio when the time is right. For now, she's nurturing the friendship.

"Cadence and I need to discuss something." Tyler rests his hip against the counter.

I half-shrug as Maribel rolls her eyes playfully from where she's standing behind him. "I'll help next time."

He looks at me for a long moment. "I don't want what happened between us the other night to complicate things here."

I reach toward the counter, resting my hand against the edge. I'm surprised we're having this discussion in the middle of the kitchen, with the staff buzzing around us. "Should we talk about this in a more private place?"

His eyes volley from my face back to the people working behind us. "I'm not going to hide what's going on between us, Cadence. I don't think I could if I tried."

I swallow against my dry throat. I reach to the right to where my water bottle is resting near my station. "What's going on between us, Chef?"

"Tyler," he says quietly while he takes the bottle from me and unscrews the cap. He swallows a mouthful of the chilled water before he hands it to me. "When we talk about personal things, don't call me Chef."

I sigh as I bring the bottle to my lips. I drink while I stare at him, studying his expression. He looks serious, calm. "We spent part of one night together. I don't have expectations."

"I do," he bites back quickly. "I want to explore this. I'd like to spend more time with you. Time away from here when we're not wearing these jackets and I'm not angry with you for burning a steak."

He raised his voice earlier when I walked away from a steak in favor of retrieving the sides for the dish. I was covering two stations briefly while another chef took a call. It didn't matter though. It was a misstep on my part and it didn't go unnoticed by him. He corrected me, in front of my co-workers and then after the smoke cleared; he brushed against me, his hand lingering on my hip, his fingers trailing delicately over the bottom of my back.

"You can come to my place tonight," I offer. "My roommate will be fast asleep by the time our shift is done."

"About your place," he says in a smooth voice. "It's impressive, large. What exactly does your roommate do for a living?"

I should tell him that I own the apartment that Sophia and I live in. It will take a lot of explaining and now isn't the time.

"Sophia works in fashion," I answer honestly. "It's her passion."

"She must do well for herself. I know what I pay you and there's no way in hell you can afford a place like that."

I laugh as he turns and walks away, knowing that if this blossoms into something worth exploring, that I'll have no choice but to explain my life before I went to culinary school.

***

"Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen." He stares into them as he sits across from me on my bed. "They're so pale."

I hated my eyes when I was young. The kids at school had a thousand different nicknames for me, all designed to make fun of my fair complexion and light eyes. I learned as I got older, how to shade the area around them so they pop more. I still hear comments about them on an almost daily basis, but now they're compliments, mostly from women asking if I'm wearing colored contact lenses. I don't. This is me, exactly how I am.

"I'm hard." His voice is deep as he looks down. "I told you that I wouldn't last long once I saw you like this."

We'd undressed slowly when we got to my apartment. I'd taken my time removing my chef's jacket, the tank top I had underneath and my white lace bra. Tyler had watched the entire time, even as he unbuttoned his own jacket and peeled off the t-shirt he was wearing.

When I slid my panties down his eyes followed their path. His gaze was heated and desirous as he stared at my cleft. I was dripping wet already from the deep kiss he'd given me on the taxi on our way here. I was tempted to take his cock in my mouth once we closed my bedroom door, but I liked the tease.

He moves across the bed, his arms in front of him, like a panther approaching in the darkness. He pulls me close; his hand cups my bare ass, squeezing, tempting.

I moan when his cock brushes my leg.

"You don't get that yet, Cadence."

I shiver when his chest touches mine, as he pulls me into it. It's solid, the contrast of my soft breasts against it striking. My nipples harden, tighten, the ache in them palpable.

His lips slide over my neck, across it, down it until they rest over my furled nipple. He touches the tip of his tongue to one, moistening it before he pulls back to blow on it. "Do you think I could make you come just from sucking on these?"

I don't know. They're sensitive but I've never felt that desperate burning in my core when a man has sucked or bitten them. "I don't think so."

"I'll take that challenge."

He lowers me until I feel the cool smoothness of the sheet on my back. He crawls up and next to me, his long, muscular body pressed against my side, his dick brushing over my hip. His lips kiss the soft skin between my breasts before he traces his tongue, slowly, so fucking slowly, up and over the mound of flesh until my nipple is in his mouth.

He closes his teeth and my hand darts to my pussy.

He pulls it away. "If you need that to get off, I have ten fingers, a mouth and a cock. All are ready to fuck that cunt."

I arch my back at the words. They're raw and wanting.

I look into his eyes. They're locked on mine as he swirls his tongue over my nipple, sucking, nibbling, biting, over and over again, while his fingers trace circles on my stomach, my hip and my thigh. They're everywhere but my clit. I want them there. I want them inside me.

My breathing quickens. The ache in my nipple is impossible to ignore.

"Touch my pussy, Tyler."

He looks at me again, taking a break from his infatuation with my left nipple. He licks it one last time. "You'll come the minute my hand is on your cunt, Cadence."

"Is that bad?" I laugh through a moan. "I'll come again when you fuck me."

"You'll come now." He trails his hand up my thigh, over my pubic bone until he finally slides it between my folds and dips a finger in my channel.

I clench around him and that's all it takes. I come hard, fast and as I'm falling down from the high, he sheaths himself before he pushes my thighs apart, settles between them and drives his cock into me so hard it rattles the bed.