Ishould not have been turned on.
Holyhell. I shivered again, a violent tremble of nerves and lust rolling through myentire body.
Hisarm slid around my waist, his hand splaying over my hip bone, dipping beneathmy chef’s coat and tank top. Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. Wyatt against me. Wyattversus me in a battle to see who could combust from sexual tension first.
Ishivered again.
Hismouth dropped to the curve of my neck, his lips brushing against my suddenlysensitive skin. “Say it again,” he ordered.
Myhands gripped the counter, the edge biting into my tender fingertips as mymuddled brain tried to make sense of his request. “Babysit you?” I couldn’t sayit again without a breathy giggle.
Hislaugh rumbled through him. I felt it from my neck to my knees. “You know what Iwant, Ky. You know what I want to hear.”
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Ihadn’t meant to call him chef. It slipped. It had been my one power play, theone thing I withheld to remind him that I was as good as him. Damn it!
Hewasn’t supposed to know he had somehow earned my respect in his short time asexecutive chef. He wasn’t supposed to figure out that I admired him and lookedup to him and wanted his approval. Those were my secrets. And they weresupposed to go with me to the grave.
Butwith one, ill-timed slip of a title of respect, I’d ruined everything.
“Kaya,” he growled against my skin, sinkinghis teeth into my neck in the sexiest bite of all time. He was getting me backfor the one time I’d bitten his finger. Only his was way worse. His was sex andfire and the fucking end of me.
Istarted to think maybe I’d ruined the power struggle between us in the verybest way.
“Chef,”I whispered, unable to deny him with his mouth on me.
Hisentire body stiffened, hardened, springing into action. He spun me around andlifted me to the counter with an impressive display of power. My butt slammed againstthe surface and my legs instinctively opened for him. He shoved my roll ofknives away without acknowledging that they were ridiculously sharp and couldslice his fingers open. Or that usually he was meticulous with knives andhandling them, taking care of them.
Undernormal, sane circumstances, Wyatt would never treat his kitchen with suchdisrespect.
Notthat I was complaining.
Becausehis disrespect felt too amazing for me to complain about. His touch felt tooincredible for me to protest. His body between my legs felt surprisingly rightand good and I didn’t want him to move away.
Foras long as I’d known Wyatt, I’d been physically attracted to him. We’d clashedin the kitchen, two Titans with a hunger for perfection and little room foranyone else to get in our way. But when we weren’t cooking, I had always beenunable to squash my carnal lust for the man.
I’dbeen intimate with a couple guys in the kitchen since Nolan, but never Wyatt.And it wasn’t just that when he’d been single, I’d been dating Nolan and when Ibecame single, he had Trish. It was more than that.
Ihad never wanted anything serious from someone in this kitchen. I’d only everwanted convenient and throwaway. But Wyatt didn’t feel throwaway. He felt verypermanent. He felt solid and unflinching and like he would sink beneath myskin, wrap around my bones and never let go.
Butmy biggest problem with him was that I wasn’t sure if I would care. Thescariest part was wanting him to stay and not knowing if I would be enough forhim after all.
Hisfingers curled under my jaw and he tilted my head, so he could capture my gazewith his. “I like that.”
Itilted my chin higher, not letting him have his way. “Is that so,chef?”
“Fuck.”The curse ripped from his throat as if he’d lost all control. His foreheadlanded on mine and I watched in fascination as his eyes fluttered closed andhis face scrunched in indecision. “Fucking hell, Kaya. You’re going to be thedeath of me.”
I feltpossessed, scooting forward so that his waist was cradled more firmly betweenmy legs. It was his turn to shiver and it was the hottest thing I had everexperienced. Instinct told me to back off, that I was playing with irreversiblefire. But the demon inside me whispered, “Then I could have your job. Maybethat’s my plan.”
Hepulled back and his eyes popped open, his expression all serious, professionalWyatt. “I fucking believe it.”
Aslow smile spread my lips into a taunting expression. “Are you afraid?”
Hemoved closer so that our lips were actually touching. I stopped breathing inthat second, stopped thinking… stopped being. It was only the two of us here atthis moment. No kitchen. No competition. No world beyond us. “I’ve been afraidof you for as long as I can remember.”
