A Taste Of Pleasure

“Then how about we find more of that icing, and you can tell me which body parts you want me to lick it off of.”

Shock had her turning her head slowly, unsure if she had heard him correctly. His heavy-lidded gaze held hers and an explosion of sexual heat shot to the tips of her breasts, which were now diamond points, down to the V between her thighs, which felt on fire, and down her legs to the tips of her toes.

Time slowed and her heart pounded.

“It’s just one night,” he whispered, sensing her hesitation. “I’m going back to Milan tomorrow.”

“Milan? I didn’t know you were from Milan.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Without breaking eye contact, he brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed the warm skin, making every cell in her body shiver with unnamed desire. Suddenly nothing mattered but him.

“Let’s go,” she exhaled, hoping she had enough icing to cover him, as well.

Chapter 2

They left the reception separately with a plan. Dani would grab the icing and meet Toni in his room, which sat ocean side on the ground floor of the resort.

Unfortunately Dani was out of icing, but they still had a case of Clos left and what better way to enjoy a $1700 bottle of champagne then before, during and after sex.

Dani was inside the walk-in pantry when two strong arms appeared by her temples.

“I got impatient.”

Toni was at her back, reaching over her to help keep the wine locker open and simultaneously kissing his way down the back of her neck.

“There is no more icing. I’m improvising.”

She pulled two bottles from the slats, and then backed into him to shut the door.

“I like how you think. Mmm, you smell like vanilla,” he said low against her nape. He was a solid wall of muscle and she shamelessly rubbed her body against him. His hands found their way over her hips and ran up her front to cup her breasts.

She struggled to keep hold of the bottles, feeling exposed to his roaming hands, and tightened her grip. Never would she waste such a beautiful bottle of wine, and never could she walk away from the pleasure this man was offering.

The briefest thought of Andre came and went, replaced by a sense of entitlement. She deserved to feel wanted and she was going to take what Toni was offering.

Toni spun her around and captured her mouth in a kiss so deep, so powerful, that Dani was instantly lost. She almost whimpered when he pulled back and took the bottles of champagne from her grip.

Her chest heaved as she leaned against the wine locker and watched him open one of the bottles with a loud pop. He held the bottle to his lips and exposed the strong column of his throat, and then he brought his mouth to hers.

The sweet wine trickled into her mouth as he nipped at her lips, biting softly at the sensitive flesh. He paused again, holding the opening to her lips. She closed her eyes and drank deeply, swallowing the fizzy elixir, thinking in some way she was taking him inside her.

When she opened her eyes, he was standing over her, his gaze fixed on the front of her dress. She arched her back in a sexy tease, and he groaned.

“Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno. You look beautiful in that dress, but it needs to come off.”

The pulsing between her legs got stronger at his words. His fingers traced the plunging U-shaped neckline of her dress, softly trailing the quivering flesh of her cleavage. He watched her face as he cupped her breast and ran a thumb over the small dots made by her straining nipples.

She ran a hand over his shoulder to cup the back of his head.

“We aren’t going to make it out of here, are we?”

He looked down at the front of his pants. Her mouth went dry at the straining outline of his erection. “I’m not sure I can walk.”

“Then do what you want to me, and the dress.”

His eyes flashed. Before she knew it, the bottles were discarded and he hiked her skirt up around her waist. Her breath left her body when Toni’s fingers ran up the back of her thighs to the naked flesh of her ass. He kneaded her backside with bold strokes, fingering her lacy panties, then pulled one of her legs up, pushing past the wisp of fabric.

Dani arched into his hand, grinding, wordlessly begging. The mound of his palm and his gentle kisses drove her into an insatiable frenzy.

Dani had always been conscious of her body when making love, but the way he was touching her, gazing at her, made her want to tear at her clothing until she was offered up to him naked and raw.

And she wanted him naked too.

She grabbed at his shirt and tore it open, soliciting a wicked smirk from him. Her fingers trailed over the crest-like tattoo on his left pectoral and found their way down his hard torso to cup the huge, hard shaft that was pressing against his tuxedo pants—she swallowed hard.

With her other hand, she forced his face to hers and plunged her tongue into his mouth. A collective moan came from beneath their kiss. He lifted his mouth from hers. “I want to see you,” he said in a low voice.

Dani turned around and felt Toni’s mouth on her nape as he slowly tugged down her zipper. He then took the opportunity to run his lips up and down her spine, causing her to lose her mind with need.

She slowly turned back around and let the dress slump down her shoulders and catch on the edge of her strapless bra. One small movement and the dress would hit the floor. He reached for the bunched up fabric, but she playfully slapped his hand away. He whimpered and she laughed. She liked teasing him. Liked being in control.

She reached for his open shirt and yanked it off his shoulders.

“I want to taste you,” she said, and then her lips and tongue found the strong pulse of his neck. He massaged her back, sending shock waves over her skin. In seconds, her strapless bra was on the floor, and his sure fingers wrenched at her dress, pulling it down over her hips in a flame-hot caress that ended with her lifted into his arms and her legs wrapped around him.

Wine bottles rattled as her back hit the wine locker. Toni widened his legs and wedged their bodies against the glass door. Dani reached for his belt as he brought his mouth to her breasts, licking and sucking at the sides of the soft, plump flesh.

Dani moaned, her hands full of Toni’s thick, sandy-colored hair, her head thrown back, her back arched. She pushed herself against him, unapologetic in her pursuit of pleasure, begging for the sweet agony of his onslaught.

“Patience,” he teased, taking her ample breasts into his hands. Reverently, he ran his thumbs lightly over the tight buds, then back again.

“Sei bella. You’re beautiful,” he said softly. His mouth found every square inch of her breasts, rising up from her rib cage to the sensitive tips of her nipples.

“Please,” she whimpered, her sounds of pleasure mingled with the jingle of the bottles. In answer, he carefully lowered her feet to the ground, and then he kissed his way down her body, taking her panties down her thighs and untangling them from her ankles.

He crumped the lace in his hand, looked into her eyes and brought the fabric to his nose.

“Vanilla and spice,” he groaned.

Suddenly, Toni’s head was between her legs, his hands on the back of her thighs and his tongue between her folds. “Yes,” she gasped, throwing her head back as pleasure so deep and raw sang through her body. She instinctively opened her legs up wider and pressed her hips up into his mouth. He held her firmly, laving her with long, slow strokes. She tangled her fingers into the hair on the top of his head and moved her hips in rhythm with his tongue.

Never had she been so hot for a man. Not even Andre had made her wild like this. She cupped her breasts and toyed with her nipples, enhancing what he was doing to her, unconcerned if someone discovered them.

“You taste better than the icing,” he said before he reached for her and brought her mouth to his. She tasted herself on his lips and felt her insides go liquid.

“Please, Toni,” she begged, her legs parting wider, her body searching for his. He ran his hands over her thighs and leaned just inches from her lips.

“Say it again.”

“Please.”

He licked his lips and shook his head. “No, my name.”

“Ton—” He took command of her lips before she finished. They were out of breath and trembling when he pulled back. “We’re going to finish this in my room. I want you in my bed. You have five minutes, or I come find you.” Dani blinked as he stepped back. Was he serious? His gaze roamed over her as he calmed his breath and righted himself, a hand forcefully adjusting the erection in his pants.

He swallowed hard. “Suite 102.” He took her panties from the floor and put them in his pocket. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, looking into her eyes.

The door closed behind him. She felt cold suddenly, and quickly put on her bra and her dress, zipping it up just enough to keep it on. Her heart still pounded as she slipped her shoes on, and when she walked out the door, a bottle of champagne in hand, she could feel the naked heat he’d left between her legs.

She stepped back into the kitchen and made her way past the bar where a few people still lingered. Her heels struck the walkway from the winery to the resort accommodations. She fingered the palm leaves that grew out into the pathway.

It wasn’t like her to sleep with someone she’d known for such a short time. She could go back to her room and avoid the morning after, she thought. But what fun would that be? She could still taste the whiskey that lingered on his kiss, and her nipples still ached against the satin of her dress. He’d started a fire within her, and she wanted him to put it out.

Room 102 marked a white door in gold letters. She raised her fist to lightly knock. Shirtless and eager, Toni ripped open the door and pulled her into his dimly lit room. She kept a tight grip on the bottle as he picked her up, to her delight, and plopped her on the bed.

Light music played and she caught a clean musky scent in the air. The room was similar to hers; king-size bed, large bay windows overlooking the ocean, and glass sliding doors.

He kissed her as he peeled her out of her dress and unsnapped her bra, his gaze flaring when her breasts tumbled out. In seconds she was naked and staring up at the angular planes of his handsome face.

Toni kissed her again, and then pulled back. “Now tell me what you want.”

She didn’t even have to think. Dani positioned her legs on either side of him. “I want you inside me.”

He thrust against her in answer. “I think I can handle that.”

Toni whipped his belt to the floor; at the same time Dani tore at his pant buttons. She ripped his pants down and she came out of her skin at the sight of him hard and throbbing in boxer briefs.

“Touch me,” he commanded low.

She cupped him, but it wasn’t enough. She reached inside the waistband and grasped him firmly, feeling how warm and ready he was to give her what she was almost begging for.

His head rolled back as she slowly stroked. “That’s good,” he breathed, his body a pillar of lean rigid muscle. Before he was too far gone, Toni gently cradled her face and pulled her up to meet his body. He nudged her knees apart and gazed down at her with heavy-lidded blue eyes. His fingertips ran down her slick folds, rubbing and sliding over her, making her moan and quiver.

“You are so beautiful. So sexy,” he breathed. Dani shuddered, her body ready for release.

“Now, Toni,” she panted. “Please.”

Toni reached past her and pulled a gold-foiled condom from atop the nightstand, quickly rolling the latex in place. Then all thoughts vanished when he palmed her thigh and slid deep inside her in one swift motion, thick, heavy and hard. Dani clawed at his shoulders as he pulled back slowly and drove home again, and again and again. She moaned as he continuously filled her, overwhelmed by his size and strength, but eager to take everything he was giving.

Dani undulated under him, coaxing rough grunts from him, nipping at his mouth with each thrust. Tremors wracked her, her legs falling open farther as he caged her with his body and slid in deeper. Dani felt her muscles clench around him and her heart started pounding out of her chest. She thrust up and held on to him as she came, vaguely aware of his lips on hers, and the sound of his rough cries against her mouth.

Chapter 3

New York

One year later

“Service!” Dani screamed from behind the chef’s counter where she was meticulously preparing Andre’s special plate—veal shank with saffron infused risotto. The waitstaff within earshot paused at her shrill voice, then quickened their pace to grab the two entrées sitting idle under the heat lamp. She understood the confusion; technically she was “off,” allowing Michele, her sous-chef, a crucial step in his training—running a Friday night dinner service.

“Feel the rhythm of the kitchen, Michele. You’re behind, which makes them—” she pointed to the servers “—behind. Step it up.” The young man gave Dani a solemn nod and a “yes, Chef,” then barked his own orders.

Chef Andre Pierre may be the owner and famous face attached to the restaurant, but Dani had built the kitchen of Via L’Italy into a two-star Michelin rated powerhouse of culinary masterpieces, and wasn’t going to stop until she got a third star.

Of course, if she and Andre landed the TV show they pitched to the Food Network, she’d no longer be worrying about that star. The world would see her cooking beside Andre, instead of behind him. Ghost chef... Dani could barely stand the term. Andre was the great and powerful Oz of the culinary world, while she was the little guy behind the curtain making it all happen.

She had tried to leave and pursue her own restaurant once, but Andre increased her salary and made it worth her while to stay. When they got their first Michelin star, she got paid even more. On paper, she was successful. In real life, she felt like she was achieving none of her goals.

Dani no longer wanted to be a ghost chef in Andre’s kitchen, or in his bed. They’d become more public with their relationship, meaning some of the staff knew, but she still got the feeling Andre was fighting boyfriend status. Her schedule was more grueling than his and they never saw each other much outside of the restaurant. But they made sense together. Slowly but surely, Dani knew that Andre would one day see that they made a good team.

“Is that for Andre?” Michele said, his voice always turning a bit acid when he mentioned Andre’s name.

“Yes, I’m going to the office to cheer him up. He’s been sulking since he got back from the network. I’m nervous he got bad news.”

Dani slipped off her apron and ventured toward the dining room, skirting whizzing servers and bussers. All greeted her with a respectful “Chef.” Andre’s back office was empty. She passed by the storage alcove where the coats were lined and found a few had fallen from the rack. A muffled sound came from the closed storage door.

She moved forward, her hand on the knob when an audible moan was heard. He heart hammered, afraid to see what she knew was coming. Quietly she turned the knob. Andre was inside with Bette, their hostess. His back was to the door, pumping hard as she lay on the cluttered desk with her dress raised and her legs spread.

“You’re going to be a star, baby girl,” Andre gritted out in between thrusts.

The young hostess’s eyes were closed, and then they fluttered open and found Dani. The girl yelled in horror, which didn’t stop Andre’s furious thrusts until she hit at him and pushed away.

He was breathing heavily when he snapped his head around to gaze at Dani. The hostess shoved her dress down and scurried past Dani into the hallway. Andre’s shoulders slumped and he zipped up his pants. But what she saw in his eyes was not an apology. It was resignation. “I’m sorry you saw that. But what did you expect?”

Dani’s eyes narrowed. “I expected loyalty.”

“We never see each other. I can’t even remember when we kissed last.”

“We kissed this morning in bed.”

“That goodbye kiss you gave me at 4 a.m. when you went to the fish market?”

Dani took in a deep breath. “Your customers are loving the fish.”

“All you care about is the kitchen. Anywhere we go, anything we do, you end up at the kitchen.”

“This is a 24/7 job as you well know. And it’s not my kitchen, Andre, it’s your kitchen. I am doing this for us!”

“No, you’re not. Your focus, your drive...it’s for you, Dani. You have no insecurities in the kitchen.”

Insecurities? Dani’s hands perched on her full hips. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means all you think about is the kitchen. It’s where you have control.”

Dani rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to listen to psychobabble from a cheater and a liar. What she did need was to find out what happened at the network.

“And what about the show, Andre? Does that get thrown away along with our relationship too?”

“They want to do it—” he paused “—but they want someone else to cohost. Someone with a millennial appeal.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

“I’m thirty-three, Andre. I am a millennial.”

“They want someone...like...a model or something.”

“Ohhh, now I get it. I’m too fat to be on your show.”

He slowly shook his head. “It’s not my decision, Dani.”

She cut him off. “And who is going to cook for you? The model that... Wait a minute, is Bette going to be on the show?” If anyone wanted to be a star, it was that woman that ran out of the room with her skirt up.

Andre’s eyes hit the floor in answer.

“How long have you been screwing her?”

“Does it matter? We weren’t exclusive.”

She didn’t think her heart could sink any lower. She refused to cry, replacing the emotion with pure anger.

Andre’s voice turned to syrup. “Look, let’s be adults about this. The show still needs you. I still need you. She’ll be the face, but it will be your food. You’ll get paid more than her, I’ll see to that.”

Her gaze went hazy. He wanted her to be a ghost chef for his new girlfriend?

“Fuck you, Andre.” She threw the plate of food at his feet.

He jumped as it crashed and spilled, his gaze holding a challenge she wasn’t interested in meeting.

He was predictable. She mused that she had been waiting for this moment, and now that it had happened, she had a kitchen to run. She turned and let the door close behind her, muffling whatever rant he was shouting at her back. She no longer cared. Actually she felt relieved. Wondering when he would screw up was a drain.

Her mother had always told her she played the game of love wrong, that she loved the men more than they loved her. She had fallen in love with Andre, she thought.

Michele was waiting for her when she walked back into the kitchen. His eyes fixed on her face. Did he know? A quick glance around the room caught raised eyebrows and concerned gazes. Did everyone know?

“Everything all right, Chef?”

She nodded with a neutral expression, alluding to nothing. Images of Andre and the hostess flashed in her mind. The other woman stood at her post smiling, welcoming a couple and ushering them to their table. Her dress was in place and her makeup was flawless. The man checked out her size four frame as she walked.

Dani cringed, fighting the urge to pull Bette’s weave out in the dining room.

She decided to leave instead. Her presence was undermining Michele’s practice. This was his night, his initiation into the wonderful world of chefdom. Should she tell him he’ll never have a life? That his partner will get mad and leave him? Because running a kitchen was like being the head of a family, and you don’t abandon your family, not even for love.

Dani made busywork of tasting the sauces. She turned to find the pasta and almost walked straight into Andre.

Get out of my kitchen! She cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Since my dinner is on the floor, I’d love a plate of...whatever.”

“Of course.” Dani loaded a plate with penne, then drizzled the garlic and oil. “I suggest a white wine with this.”

Andre looked at her for a long moment, and then scanned the room of staff that were working and simultaneously watching under their lids.

“Thank you.” He nodded, then jammed a fork into the pasta and into his mouth. “Mmm” came from his throat. Then his face scrunched. “That’s too much garlic.”

A tidal wave of anger hit her.

“How dare you come into my kitchen and insult this food! Do you have any idea what I have done for you? Do you think you could have made two stars with that bull you were serving three years ago? You would have been closed had it not been for me!” Her voice cracked. The staff stilled. She grabbed the plate from his hands and tossed it on the counter. “I hope she was worth it,” Dani spit.

Dani turned on her heel and found her bag under the counter. Then she stomped to the wall and grabbed her coat. She hugged Michele and held him at arm’s length. “Michele, you’re ready.” Dani had to look away when his face drained of all color. He’d be fine. They all would. She trained them well.

She stepped toward the door but stopped when she saw movement in the dining room. It was Bette, opening a bottle of wine, laughing with a young couple. Dani found herself next to the hostess, startling the girl midpour.

“Your pour should be just less than half the glass.” Dani grabbed the stem of the glass and tossed the ruby liquid in the girl’s face. Her squeal mingled with the collective gasp of the room. Rivulets of red dripped from her chin. “See, too much.” Dani set the glass down in front of the gawking couple and executed a perfect pour, then held it up. “Now, this is a glass of wine.” Dani splashed the second glass in Bette’s face, this time hitting the dinner guests.

“You fat bitch!” The girl’s tears were pink.

Dani shivered with rage at the word. “I’d rather be fat and smart, than skinny and stupid.”

Andre appeared, wrenching the wineglass from Dani’s hand and apologizing over and over to the couple.

“He’s all yours,” Dani said to the girl.

Dani felt the eyes of the room as she marched toward the front door. Skirting waiting couples, she pushed through the door and hailed a cab downtown, watching the city smear by.

She walked into her apartment like seeing it for the first time. It was a mess, like her life. She picked up her phone and dialed Nicole, but got no answer. Then Liz, again no answer, but a text came through saying she was on a date and would call later. Her father, a fashion photographer turned tattoo artist, was backpacking through Asia. She scrolled through her phone and stopped at Mom. Her thumb hesitated. It was almost ten at night in LA. She was sure her mother would be getting ready for bed, if not in bed already. The woman had a regimen stricter than a marine. Dani dialed, sure her mother wouldn’t pick up.

She’s not going to answer, Dani thought, debating if she should hang up. Maybe it was a sign, emotional conversations with her mother didn’t usually make her feel better. She’d thrown that tidbit in her mother’s face once during an argument, to which her mother had calmly replied, I’m not like other mothers.

The second her mother answered, the tears she was holding back slid down her face in hot streaks. “Mom,” she choked out.

“Danica, you know I’m about to go to bed. I need twelve hours or...” She paused. “What on earth—” A half sigh. “Are you crying?”

It was the exasperated sigh that pulled Dani from her fetal position on the couch. She dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose with a tissue, then took a calming breath. Her mother never stood for such theatrics, even though she was still the most dramatic woman Dani had ever known.

“Yes.” Dani swallowed. “It’s been a rough night.” Dani heard rustling in the background and imagined her mother in a face mask and silk head wrap resting in her king-size bed.