Page 47 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

“Oh, stop it, I’m the one who is nervous to go up against you. That was a tough panel of judges, and they didn’t have one negative thing to say about your food, and let’s be real, when does that ever happen?”

I shrug in response.

“Exactly. And who is this?” He turns to Lorena, holding out his hand.

“Lorena Ramos. I’m Santino’s publicist,” she introduces herself.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m sure with all the opportunities Santino has had come his way, he’s keeping you busy.”

She smiles. “Yes, very.”

I appreciate that Chef Caiazzo doesn’t bring up any of the poor publicity I’ve had. It means a lot that even though I know he’s aware, he doesn’t make me feel like a spectacle. He sees me for what I am, a chef, and not a hotheaded celebrity, a title that I loathe on both ends.

“Well, a group of us are headed to Gemini’s. I’ve reserved a table, figure we can all catch up. I was going to invite DeStefano, but he left right away.”

No DeStefano to deal with? Sounds tempting, and I have been wanting to try Gemini’s for a while now, but after the night I had, and the day, ordering food to the hotel room I’m sharing with Lorena sounds much better.

Hell, that one bed we’re forced to share is calling my name too…with her in it.

“Thank you for the invitation but…”

Lorena cuts me off. “Oh, come on, Santino, don’t be a buzzkill. We’re all done for the day; a little socializing wouldn’t hurt you.”

Chef Caiazzo places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Lorena has a fair point. Besides, she’s your publicist, shouldn’t you listen to her?” he jokes. “Looks like you’re overruled.”

“Yep, overruled with no choice but to obey, Chef Amato,” Lorena says with a seductive wink.

She can’t be talking like that, not when I’m unable to act on it.

“Excellent!” Chef Caiazzo claps excitedly. “It’s decided. I already have the table set, it’s under my name, meet us over there.”

“Sounds good to me,” I say. “We’ll meet you there.”

Chef Caiazzo leaves us, immediately diving into conversation with a group of people standing off to the side.

“I didn’t want to go out,” I say to Lorena with an unintentional edge to my voice.

“I know,” she says nonchalantly.

“So why are you making me?”

She goes right over my question, placing her laptop in her bag and looping it over her shoulder.

The second she steps forward, I leap, meaning to place my hand on her shoulder, but I miss, and it latches onto her purse strap instead, tugging at it.

Annoyed, she huffs, and fuck me, that scowl she has on her face is almost as sexy as the sight of my come leaking from her lips earlier. “Why are you smiling?”

I shrug. “I won’t answer until you answer my question.”

She peers around us to make sure no one is paying attention. Oh Lorena, always so beautiful, and always so fucking worried what everyone is thinking. Maybe I should take a page out of her book and consider more what people think about me.

“Because Santino Amato.” Fuck. There’s something about the way my full name spewed out in annoyance sounds from her that is an aphrodisiac.

“Yes, Lorena Ramos.” A beautiful name, for an even more beautiful woman, but after hearing how good my last name sounded from her, I’m skipping ahead, imagining my last name behind her first or hyphenated, because I know how much continuing the Ramos name means to her.

“The reason we’re going to dinner is because I’m hungry.

Ironically, the food on set is shit, and second, you’re not always going to have a skillet nearby to diffuse your mood.

Part of maintaining a proper public image is being seen and being seen with Chef Caiazzo is a good look.

Plus, doing things you don’t want to do is good for you. ”

“What about the things I want …” I let my words linger before finishing my question.

“Behave,” she breathes, shooting me a stern glare.

“To do, to you? That is. What about that? Those things are good for me. Even better feeling for you. Right?” I stick my tongue out, bending it and playing with my piercing.

She swallows, visibly. “Stop,” she whispers, eyes urgent as she closes the gap between us. “Not here.”

“Later then?”

Trepidation skids across her perfectly arched brows for a split second before her demeanor melts. “ Maybe .”

“Aww come on, mama…” I plead.

“Don’t do that,” she says, blushing.

“Don’t do what?”

“Say that.”

“Oh, what? Say mama?”

She nods subtly.

“No can do. If I know you like something, it’s all the more reason for me to do it.

I aim to please, don’t you forget that,” I say with a wink.

Seizing this opportunity of her being flirtatious, I need to double check that we’re okay.

“I take it you forgive me for…” My voice trails.

Considering that I’ve been unreachable the past few days, only adding to her stress and workload while I deal with my dad, there’s a quite a bit I should be apologetic for.

Though, to my surprise, Lorena coyishly rolls her eyes. “I guess. Kind of difficult to stay mad at you after I found out why you were gone.”

“So that’s why you sucked my dick? It was a pity mouth fuck?”

A slight gasp escapes her mouth as she pinches her thighs together in response.

“You’re so bad,” she singsongs, looking around to make sure no one heard me.

“Anyway, it looks like I am the good luck charm you needed, Chef Amato.” Fuck do I love when she calls me that.

“And it wasn’t a pity dick suck. Besides, it seemed to do you a favor,” she adds, tilting her head up with pride.

“That’s fair, but the last time I checked, doing someone a favor, as you call it, doesn’t involve the one doing the favor to be getting off on it, touching themselves, while performing said favor.”

Her eyes widen in horror that I’m having this conversation here and now.

She shouldn’t be surprised by now. When it comes to her, I lose all sense of where I am.

Her lips part, though she’s too stunned to speak.

“Tell me, mama, what you want me to do to you when we get back to our hotel room. Don’t be shy, use that pretty mouth of yours, and tell me every detail.”

“No.” Her refusal throws me off, since the look on her face is soft, playful even. Although I’ve grown accustomed to the constant push and pull we find ourselves in, this is starting to become too much.

“No?”

“No,” she repeats.

She walks ahead of me but I skip forward, grabbing her hand to pull her into me.

“What do you mean no? You can’t seriously think that with the way you took me into your mouth on your knees, that you weren’t picturing all the ways I could make you feel good with my cock?

I mean, my tongue too. You know I will never miss an opportunity to eat your pussy, but I’m dying to be inside of you. ”

Her lashes flutter in a seductive gaze as her lips brush against my ear. “Of course, I was.” She clears her throat. “I still am, but I think it’ll be more fun to let your imagination run wild a bit before we do. And if you behave yourself at dinner, maybe then , you’ll be rewarded.”

I bite down on my lip. “You’re torturing me.”

Her teeth expose themselves to my ear lobe, gently gnawing it at as she whispers. “I know.”

Chills run down my spine, having her so close to me, whispering. All of it making my imagination work overtime.

“Now, be a good boy and wait outside the bathroom for me. I brought something to change into in case we ended up going out. I wouldn’t want to go to dinner with your peers with what I’m wearing now,” she scoffs, jokingly.

I stare down at her, wondering what’s wrong with her outfit. She looks stunning. I mean she could wear a potato sack and I’d be drooling.

She continues, this time her voice sounds even more seductive, and I can’t help but to feel that she’s doing this on purpose, to truly torture me. “You know, just a little something I think you’d like.”

“I like how you look in anything.”

“So…the choice is yours since that imagination needs to be running wild. Panties or no panties?”

“Fuck, mama, whatever you want is fine by me, just as long as I get to feel that pussy afterwards.”

“Fine, I’ll surprise you then. Oh, and Tino?”

“Yes?”

“I swear to god, if you don’t …”

Already knowing what she’s about to say, I bring my finger to her lips. “Ssh,” I whisper. “Don’t you worry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Like I said, my dick is yours. And tonight, you’re mine to fuck. All. Night. Long.”

And if I have my way…mine to fuck forever.

Dinner is amazing. Chef Caiazzo wasn’t kidding when he said this place is incredible.

Though as good as the food and atmosphere are, it pales in comparison to how it is witnessing Lorena in my world.

Talking to my industry peers, enjoying her food, seeming so effortlessly social even though I know she despises small talk.

Yet she’s doing it for me, all while she looks like a picturesque goddess wearing this stunning all-black, halter collared dress with a slit up the thigh that has my imagination working overtime. Just has she intended for it to.

No one would ever guess that she’s probably counting down the seconds until we can leave here.

I’m hoping it’s partly due to me. But I know that social gatherings exhaust her, and that she’d much rather be home with a glass of wine and a cozy robe on.

However, she insisted we go because she knew it would be good for me…

because she’s good at her job…dealing with me.

“So, Lorena, other than making sure Santino has all his ducks in a row, tell us a little about yourself? Or how you know Tino. I sense a connection between the two of you.”

Everyone starts oohing and aahing. Lorena’s cheeks flush, and I try my fucking hardest to keep a neutral face, friendly enough that I don’t look like I detest what Chef Caiazzo just said, but not enough that I giveaway how ecstatic it makes me feel that someone who doesn’t know a thing about us senses a connection.

I don’t give a fuck how unprofessional that may sound or seem.

I should.