Page 297
Story: Delicious
I caved to the powerful temptation to touch him. I stood behind him under the guise of observation. The urge to wrap my arms around him and rest my chin on his shoulder was too strong to resist. He stiffened in my hold with a gasp that made me want to do untold naughty things to him. It drove me to trail kisses up his neck until I reached his ear, where I murmured, “If more contestants onUnder Pressurecooked like you, I wouldn’t have to yell so much at their amateur mistakes.”
An interesting whine escaped him as he leaned back into my hold while stirring the polenta he had added truffle oil and parmesan to. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“Something tells me I will.” For some strange reason, I seemed to like everything about Adler. It drove me to trail my hand down his lithe body to see if he was still hard from earlier. I was a little surprised he wasn’t.
“Congrats on making me blow my load twice today without being touched,” he said with a laugh.
Instead of being disappointed, it gave me a power trip to know I had such complete dominance over Adler that I had made him climax without a single touch. “We’ll have to fix that next time,” I murmured beside his ear, nuzzling against him and breathing in his scent.
That close, his cologne tantalized my senses. I recognized the sharp burst of citrus, with bright notes of bergamot reminding me of the freshly squeezed juice that would be the base of a refreshing Italianaperitivo.
Underneath the citrus, the neroli from bitter orange blossoms added a delicate floral note. It was reminiscent of the aromatic herbs I used, adding just the right touch of fragrance without overpowering.
When I took a deeper breath, I could sense subtle hints of lavender with a warm amber grounding it in earthy masculinity. It compelled me to trail my tongue up the curve of his neck for a taste. The combined effect felt like Italian sunshine in a bottle, capturing the essence of everything I loved about cooking and my homeland. If I hadn’t just come, it would have brought me instant release.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” I murmured as I continued indulging in breathing him in. I had caught a hint of a whiff of it when he had tied the blindfold behind my head, but to be so close to the source drove me wild. “What twenty-four-year-old guy smellsthisgood?”
“One who lucked out by having a cousin who works for the company that makes theveryexpensive cologne and gives him sweet deals on it.”
“Well worth every damn penny.” It fascinated me that the scent simultaneously aroused and comforted me.
After he finished cooking, he began plating up dinner. I appreciated he kept it classic rather than going overboard with garnishing and using silly tricks to elevate a dish. I carried the plates and a bottle of wine over to the table while he brought the silverware and glasses.
After we sat down, I poured the wine. To my surprise, he had paired dinner with a smart choice of Chianti. I raised my glass in a toast. “Un brindisi al cuoco. Salute, to the man who’s spent the whole day making me hot.”
Adler’s broad grin had a boyish charm to it. “And here’s to spicing up your night, too,” he replied before clinking his glass against mine and taking a sip.
The Chianti had notes of tart cherry, oregano, balsamic, and earthy undertones that would pair beautifully with the dinner Adler had prepared. He watched in rapt attention as I took my first bite of the tenderloin.
The pancetta was the perfect blend of smoky and salty. The pork was tender, infused with a bold herbaceous punch of pesto, packed with basil freshness. It had just the right amount of pepper to add a hint of warmth without overpowering the dish. It was a fantastic contrast between the crispy pancetta and juicy pork that would have been right at home in a Michelin-star restaurant.
Adler held his breath as I sampled the polenta next.
It was the perfect balance of velvety smooth, rich, and buttery, melting on my tongue. The parmesan brought the right amount of saltiness, which partnered well with the sage’s earthiness that kept each bite from feeling too heavy. The truffle oil added a punch of umami goodness that delighted my taste buds that had survived being nuked by the peppers earlier that morning.
Another sip of wine made me appreciate his impressive choice since the sweetness of the cherry notes unlocked a different dimension of the food. It tied everything together with a whisper of decadence.
I dragged out the moment as I set down my wineglass before turning my full attention to Adler. I couldn’t help but get a little revenge for his desserts earlier. “It’s absolutely, utterly unacceptable,” I said, making his eyes go wide in shock. I let him linger in that disbelief before I continued, “how much I enjoyed this.”
His breath whooshed out of him before he laughed. “Shit, you made me think you hated it for a moment.” He beamed at the praise. “You really like it?”
Words I didn’t mean to say escaped me. “If I didn’t want to fuck you before, this definitely would have changed my mind.”
His mouth formed a surprised O, which gave me all kinds of sexy reminders of the pleasures he was capable of with it. But he quickly recovered, lighting up with delight. “That’sverygood to know.” He finally tried his food. “Damn, I did a great job, didn’t I?”
I savored another bite, letting the rich flavors of the tenderloin wash over me. “You would’ve won dish of the night onUnder Pressurewith this.”
Adler squirmed in his chair, my praise clearly affecting him. “You don’t think it’s too simple?”
“In a lot of ways, simple is more daring and harder to do than something complicated. There’s nowhere to hide your mistakes because it’s even more glaring when something’s wrong with it. You don’t always need thirty ingredients to make a dish. This is proof that staying focused on the flavors is the best strategy.”
His pleased blush was endearing. “It means a lot to hear that, especially when I know you aren’t the type to casually give praise.”
“I have little use for blowing smoke up someone’s ass,” I said with a chuckle as I continued eating. “On shows likeUnder Pressure, contestants can’t improve unless I give them constructive criticism.”
“Roland always told me I should audition for the show.”
“Why didn’t you?”
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