Read Cooking up a Storm for Free Online Page B

tell her. As he well knew, suggestion itself was a powerful aphrodisiac.
    ‘ Voilà ,’ he said, transferring a small, steaming mound on to a plate. With a twist of his wrist, the pasta settled into a beautiful, twining pattern. He garnished his creation with a sprig of fresh basil.
    Abby applauded as he set it before her. To his amazement, he blushed.
    ‘Oh, my.’ She gazed at her plate. ‘It’s almost too beautiful to eat. I’m starving, though, so I will.’
    She ate the way a woman should eat: slowly but with gusto, savouring each bite and occasionally moaning out her enjoyment. She’ll sound good in bed, he thought, surreptitiously tugging the cloth stretched over his crotch. His cock was straining for freedom now, head up, shaft quivering. But it would wait — and thank him for it later.
    ‘How do you feel?’ he asked when she’d sucked up the last strand of angel hair.
    ‘Wonderful.’ She wiped her chin clean on a napkin. ‘Almost glowy.’
    Storm smiled at her. Her cheeks were pink, her lips red. She squirmed a little on her stool. Bon , he thought. Good. She’s ready.
    He stepped around the work island, coming close enough to hear the tiny catch in her breath. Reaching out, he eased a strand of falling hair from her face, his touch too light to brush skin. The hair flowed like silk over his fingertips. Her lips parted. Her mouth was a perfect Cupid’s-bow, plump and soft and small. His throat tightened with a hunger to plunge his tongue inside, but he kept his voice steady. ‘Do you, perhaps, feel as you do when someone kisses you?’
    The gap between her lips widened, shock and arousal causing her jaw to drop. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.
    ‘Don’t you?’ He moved his hands, let the palms hover an inch from her breasts, just close enough to bathe her nipples in their heat. Her cheeks went as red as plum tomatoes, but she didn’t move away.
    ‘You can’t do this,’ she whispered.
    ‘But I am testing my secret weapon.’
    ‘You intend to treat all my customers this way?’
    Laughing silently, he lowered his head until his breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple. ‘It’s an aphrodisiac.’
    ‘I’m sure it is.’ She fumbled for his wrists, catching them in hot damp hands and pushing. ‘But it’s not exactly professional.’
    Her innocence was priceless. Heart warming with amusement, he squeezed the hands that were trying so hard to push his away. ‘The ingredients in the pasta are aphrodisiacs. I wanted to see if they really worked.’
    ‘Oh.’ She stumbled back off her stool and pulled her cardigan together at the neck. He saw from her face that he’d hurt her feelings, though he didn’t know how. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you were making a pass at me.’
    Now he understood. He was happy her hurt was so easy to soothe. He crossed the distance she’d put between them and laid one hand, very lightly, against her cheek. The feel of her skin made his eyes slide shut for a moment. Her cheek truly was as soft as a baby’s bottom. All over, he thought. She’ll feel like that all over.
    ‘I am attracted to you,’ he said, watching the colour come and go in her face. ‘But I would never make a pass at a woman I hope to make my employer.’
    ‘What do you call this?’ she squeaked. When he chuckled and dropped his hand, she looked down at her flat-soled shoes. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, mixing business and–’ she hunched her shoulders ‘–you know.’
    ‘No,’ he said very seriously, without actually agreeing.
    ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘I’m not your type.’
    ‘But of course you are.’ He caught her nervous hand. She gasped as he tugged it slowly, gently towards his bulging crotch. He gave her plenty of time to pull away. She didn’t. In truth, she seemed mesmerised.
    ‘Oh,’ she moaned as he pressed it home. He decided ‘oh’ was his very favourite portion of her vocabulary.
    ‘Oh,’ she said again, exploring him