I glanced around the space. The only thing behind her was two shelves; the counter she was on was eighteen feet long and four feet wide. Having enough room wasn’t an issue.
“Why not?”
“We’re in the middle of Charred’s kitchen.”
I smiled. “And?”
“What if someone comes in?”
“It’s probably past midnight already. No one is coming in, Alivia. Plus, all the doors are locked.”
She looked toward the ceiling. “Aren’t there cameras?”
“Do you know what I love?” I kissed her neck, feeling the goose bumps as they rose over her skin. “How I’m the reckless one and you’re the responsible one, and I’m twelve years older than you.”
“If you tell me there’s a chance either of us is going to become a meme by the morning, I’m so out of here.”
I laughed, moving my face in front of hers. “There aren’t any cameras in the kitchen. They are everywhere else.” I bit my lip while I took in her expression. “Stop thinking of the bad, Alivia. I’m going to fucking devour you right here, and nothing sounds hotter to me.”
Her eyes widened. “But you cook on this counter.”
“Well, when you put it that way, yes, it’s a little fucked up.” I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth and released it. “But since your pussy is going to be all over it, I promise you, the metal will get sanitized before a single piece of food touches it.” My hands returned to her shirt, undoing thesecond button. “I’ll stop if you want me to, but, fuck, I don’t want to.”
Her head slightly shook. “You’re the chef … if you’re okay with it, so am I.”
“Good answer.”
With a few buttons loose, I was able to lift her shirt over her head, and my lips immediately went to her nipple as I began to work on her pants.
The outfit was a Charred uniform that we supplied to the staff who worked the dining room. Servers wore ties, but positions like Alivia’s only had stiff pants and a button-down—all in black.
I had the top of her pants undone, but it took a little maneuvering to get them over her hips in this position. I wiggled them down her thighs and pulled off her shoes and socks, leaving just her panties on.
“This metal is freezing.” She propped herself up so her ass wasn’t directly on it.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to be sweating in a few minutes.” I took a small step back to get a better view of her. It had been far too long since I’d seen her body outside of clothes—something else I could add to the list of things I’d missed. “Mmm,” I groaned while I took her in. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
A flush of deep red moved across her cheeks.
“And you know what makes this sight even better?”
“What?”
“That you’re mine.”
She rubbed her lips together, hiding her stunning smile. “I can’t even explain to you how that statement makes me feel.”
“I know, Alivia. I feel it too.”
I started taking off my clothes, my chef’s whites a little more complicated than the rest. Once I got it off, along with the T-shirt I wore beneath, I dropped my pants to the floor and slid out of my kitchen clogs. Left only in my boxer briefs, I pulled her toward the edge of the counter, and her legs automatically wrapped around me.
“You’re fulfilling fantasies I didn’t even know I had.”
“Kitchen sex, huh?” She laughed. “I’m kinda digging it now.” She put her fingers on my forearms, running their entire length and up my biceps toward my shoulders. “God, Walker, I missed these.” She was studying my muscles, raking her nails through my hair, and eventually gave me her gaze. “There’s something about having these around me that I’m completely obsessed with. I’m not even an arm girlie, but yours? I just want to feel them all the time.”
“Do you know how easy it is to make that happen?” I put our faces together. “All I want to do is touch you.”
I flattened my palm against the middle of her collarbone. And I held it there while she anticipated my next move, building the heat between us before I dragged my hand down the center of her. I gave her just enough of a push that she leaned back, the top of her head resting against the base of the first shelf.
