The chef in me was more than curious. Pouting to show my displeasure with his tactic, I stood and grabbed panties and a t-shirt from a drawer.
I was about to slip on the tee when he said, “Don’t Ash.” With the sleeves halfway up my arms, I stopped and looked at him. “I want you naked.”
“We don’t always get what we want.” I pulled on the t-shirt then followed with the panties. I ambled over to the table set with yogurt, fresh fruit and orange juice. I stared at the pan filled with something that looked like pizza. “What’s that?”
“Sit and taste for yourself.” He pulled out a chair, sat and patted his thigh.
The smell was now more potent, and my mouth watered. I inhaled deeply while pulling my hair into a ponytail.
“Leave it open.”
“No.” I dashed off to the bathroom before he could say anything. It was weird that as a chef I looked forward to tasting food cooked by others. Done using the toilet and brushing my teeth, I sauntered back into the kitchen.
As I reached for a chair, Trent shook his head. “Here.” He pointed to his lap.
When I shook my head, his jaw tightened, the intensity of his gaze unnerving me a little. “Don’t like following orders do you?”
“No.”
“I seem to recall you following them perfectly last night at this very table.”
Hot color flooded my cheeks. I barely had time to register his intent before he shot up from his seat and rounded the six-seater table to my side. He scooped me up, sat and settled me on his lap. I scowled.
“You will learn to obey me, sweetheart.”
“I’m not a child,” I snapped.
“Then stop acting like one.” He waited for me to argue. I didn’t. With an arm around my waist to keep me in place, he reached for the pan, set it on the table in front of me and picked up a fork. “Eat,” he ordered.
“I’m surprised you’re not forcing it down my throat,” I muttered.
“If I’m going to force anything down your throat, trust me. It won’t be food.” The wicked curve to his lips told me I’d do well to shut up and eat.
Gulping back the retort, I took the fork and was amazed when it sank into whatever I was about to taste. I lifted a portion to my mouth the same time Trent sucked at my nape. I moaned as twice the sensation ripped through my body. “God, this taste so good,” I said after swallowing a fluffy, melt-in-your-mouth mix of eggs, cheese and cajun paprika, wrapped in a pancake and topped with cheese.
“So do you.” Trent sucked my left earlobe into his mouth while his hands climbed to my breasts. He pinched the nipples until they pebbled. The contrasting softness of his mouth and hard fingers started swirls of need between my thighs. If I didn’t get fucked soon, I’d die from a broken pussy. I grinned at the thought and scooped another bite into my mouth trying my best to ignore Trent’s manipulations, I knew he wasn’t going to give me what I wanted.
“If you were naked right now, I’d fuck you,” he whispered against my neck.
The fork stopped midway to my mouth. I turned slightly until his gaze met mine. “So, what you’re saying, is that because I put on a t-shirt and panties, you can’t fuck me?” He nodded. “And not because I disobeyed you, right.” Again, he nodded. Calling his bluff, I dropped the fork into the pan, pulled off my t-shirt and arched a brow.
He moved me off his lap and stood with me then dropped a soft kiss to my lips. “Nice try, sweetheart. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s black-tie, wear something pretty and bring an overnight bag or not, either way, you won’t need clothes.” With that, he was gone.
I stared after the closing door unsure if I wanted to laugh to curse. Overnight bag? Did the man actually think he could waltz into my life and dictate what I did or didn’t do with my time? Who the hell did he think he was?“Your next fuck.”I recalled his words in my bathroom. Shaking my head, I retook my seat and continued eating. No reason to let a damn good meal go to waste.
