Page 9 of Good Taste
“That’s where it starts and ends, I’m afraid.”
“It’s a teachable skill.” His eyes are focused solely on me. “Anyone can do it if they have the right teacher.”
My pussy clenches imagining Nick behind me, his hardness pressing into me as he teaches me how to do—I don’t care.Anything.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’ll prove it to you.”
“yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re going to make dessert.”
I nearly fall out of my chair. “Me? No.” He’s up, hand extended. “Come on. I’m not embarrassing myself in front of a professional.”
“I cook, Taylor. I’m not a pastry chef.” He wags his fingers. “Trust me.”
The waning light outside hits him perfectly, a ray of illumination across his tanned biceps, crossing over his chest. Jesus. He’s the most perfect man I’ve ever fucking seen.
“Fine.” I slide my hand into his, playfully rolling my eyes and trying not to soak through the seat of my jeans. “But if it sucks, I’m blaming my teacher.” He smiles, releases my hand, and leads me back to the kitchen.
Nick disappears into the walk-in freezer, leaving me standing in the artificially lit kitchen. Thank God for these lanterns. It’d be super creepy without them. He reappears with a carton of ice cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup.
My hand flies to my mouth, but I can’t stop the laughter from slipping out. “Are you serious?”
“I’ll talk you through it.” He winks, then rinses out two bowls that somehow survived the fall. I can’t take my eyes off of his perfect ass in those destroyed jeans. He returns, sets the bowls down, and hands me the ice cream scooper.
“You’re a mess.” I can’t stop smiling.
“This whole fucking place is.” Nick smiles back—it may be his best feature. Which is really saying something.
I dive into the carton, piercing semi-melted ice cream. Vanilla bean. Classic. “One scoop or two?”
“One for me.” he watches me intently. His piercing eyes roaming up and down my torso.
“I’ll have one then, too.” My voice shakes, but my hand remains steady as I prep our dessert, scooping the sugary cream into two bowls.
“Nice technique.” Nick teases.
“I do my best.” I’m about to burst. This strange foreplay has my body reacting in a way I wasn’t expecting. Even my nipples are hard. Who knew ice cream could do that?
“Now for the best part.” I reach for the chocolate sauce, but Nick grabs my hand. I raise my eyes to meet his and my knees go weak. Without a word, he moves closer, gently pulling me toward him.
“I don’t wan’t the ice cream, Taylor.” His low, baritone voice reverberates through me. “I want you. From the minute you nearly knocked me out with the bathroom door.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I haven’t stopped thinking about how much I want you.”
“Nick.” I swallow, trying to find my voice. “You’ve got me.” I lick my lips and raise my chin. Chef Nick’s mouth comes crashing down on mine.
Chapter Eight
Nick
I was right.Taylor does taste better than anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m only on the first course right now. I part her lips with my tongue and she moans into my mouth. I nibble on her full, bottom lip and grip the hem of her t-shirt.
My hardness presses against my jeans. She grinds her hips against my length. I could come right here and now I want her so badly. I pull her t-shirt over her head, her hair falling around her bare shoulders as I toss it to the side. Her breasts overflow from the cups of her bra.
“We’re going to do this right here?” She presses her hand against my chest. “It feels kind of unsafe.”
Jesus I was so caught up in the moment I didn’t even think about it. Even though I swept, I’m sure there’s still some glass hiding. The last thing I want is for my Taylor to be hurt.
