Page 65 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)
Her doe eyes lock on mine as she opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue at the same time she brings a hand to each of her breasts, lifting them upward as she alternates between kneading them and pinching her nipples.
A few pumps of my hand and I’m a goner. Ropes of warm come spill onto her, landing on her tongue, dripping down her chin and onto her breasts.
I watch as it slinks past her sternum and onto her belly in a perfect line.
She flattens her back onto the bed, widening her legs, and I follow her lead, hovering over her.
“I can’t believe you pierced yourself for me,” she whispers.
“I can’t believe you think that’s a big deal. I would do anything for you.”
“But we weren’t together then.”
My stomach twists as another confession rises to the surface, ready to spew from me.
“I know. But when I heard how badly you wanted to experience those things, it made me want to do it. That way, on the off chance that our paths would cross long enough in private, I would have something you would want. Something that’d make you feel good and fulfill your fantasies.”
Her chin inches upward with pursed lips, ready to kiss mine. I lay a soft kiss on them, and it fuels her to speak.
“You have everything I could ever want. The piercings are just the icing on top of the perfect cake.”
“Oh yeah?”
She kisses me again, nodding her head as she does. “Oh yeah, papi .”
Fuck.
I suck in a breath.
“You can’t do that to me.”
“Do what?” Lorena pouts.
“Call me papi after I just came. You’re getting me all excited again.”
Her shoulders lift in a shrug, moving the sheets with it. “Speaking of icing.” Lorena’s chin lowers to her chest as her eyes peer down to the stream of come on her. “You saw what I was reading.”
“Refresh my memory,” I say, adjusting myself so that I’m kneeling at her entrance instead of hovering above her.
“It was a breeding scene.”
My cock twitches back to life.
“Tell me more.”
“Well, it was a group scene.”
I shake my head.
“What?” she asks innocently, with her lip pouting.
“Group, scene?”
“Yeah, so.”
My fingers ghost her skin. “Sorry, that’s the one thing I can’t do. Share you.”
Not seeming bothered by my small burst of her bubble, she smiles.
“I don’t want you to. But you also don’t need to share me to fill me with your come.
” Intrigue nestles in her throat, and before I know it, my hand is no longer hovering but dipping into my release.
Spreading the remnants of my come onto my fingers, I draw a line down the rest of her stomach to her mound and just above her clit.
“Is that what you want, to be filled?”
A mischievous wink and nod gives me the permission I need to bring my come-soaked hand into her. I continue to gather and transfer my releases from her body into her pussy, until there’s nothing left on her skin.
“That’s my good girl,” I praise her, fucking her with my hand until she’s a quivering mess, blessing me with her orgasm.
“I like how that sounds. I’m yours. Your good girl. Siempre,” she says with pride with eyes closed and her body riding the not-so-subtle waves of her finish.
That’s right.
My good girl.
My everything.
All mine.
Always.
We spend the next few hours clothed, sadly, since the workday is now winding down for Tomás, and he should be home any minute now.
Cooking lessons have officially begun for Lorena, per her request. As hot as it is, seeing her so eager to learn, I like being the one to cook for her.
I love seeing her enjoy what I prepare for her.
If it were up to me, she wouldn’t ever have to lift a finger to cook.
But I also can’t say no to her, and in exchange, our deal was I teach her to cook, and she helps me with my Spanish.
“?Por qué tienes todos estos ingredientes para hornear?”
All I can off her is a blank stare, and it dawns on her that I didn’t catch what she said.
“Hornear,” she repeats. “Remember, it means…”
I sift through the mental Rolodex of words and phrases she’s been teaching me.
“To bake, right?”
“Sí. To bake with,” she says pulling back, her hands falling to either side of her hips, and the look I’m met with isn’t from my girlfriend but my publicist. “Have you seen the state of that building? It’s been abandoned for years…”
I lean forward, wrapping my hand around her waist, causing her to lose her footing as she crashes into me.
“I’m well aware of the work it needs, but I’ve been wanting to open a bakery, separate from the restaurant, for a long time, and what better place than in a location that holds sentimental value. ”
And what makes opening the bakery in that particular sentimental location that much better is that I was able to get it back for the original bid I placed on the property.
Turns out Owen Conti and his silent business partner Luca DeStefano, only wanted the bakery because they knew that I wanted it and were willing to do anything to get it.
However, I know people like Conti and DeStefano very well.
They couldn’t care less about tradition or sentimental value.
They are vain people, consumed with how much money and celebrity they can garner their way.
Getting them to back off the bakery spot was easy.
Once I threatened DeStefano with telling Chef Caiazzo what he was trying to do, he panicked and shortly after, Tomás got news the property was available once more.
He knew that would jeopardize the show deal DeStefano won by beating Chef Caiazzo in my withdrawal from the reunion show.
Since Chef Caiazzo is a producer for the network, he’d have DeStefano fired in a heartbeat.
Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Chef Caiazzo has vocalized to me how much he can’t stand DeStefano. If he heard DeStefano was trying to blackmail me and Lorena, forget about it. Chef doesn’t and wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior from him.
“Fine.” Lorena scoffs. “I don’t know how I can argue with that. When are you planning on starting?”
“After I go to the James Beard Awards.”
“You mean after you win them.” She corrects me with such confidence in her tone, it pulls at my heartstrings.
“We’ll see. I don’t want to get too confident.
The competition is intense.” Nerves settle over me at the thought.
Lorena catches on, taking the apron I brought from the restaurant home and ties it around her waist. Silently, she walks over to the small recipe box I inherited from my mom.
Sifting through the cards, she takes her time until she settles on one, pulling it out.
“This!” She says beaming as she waves it in my face.
I take it from her, realizing that it’s actually two cards. One card has my Nonna’s recipe for cheesecake and the other with my Abuela’s tembleque.
“You should find a way to combine these two desserts, into something that will be the bakery’s signature.”
It’s a great idea, actually. Fucking fantastic.
“I like that.” I nod, my mind already thinking of how I can incorporate the signature flavors of my Abuela’s tembleque with the whipped, rich texture of my Nonna’s cheesecake. “Want to try to create one now with me?”
“Si, Chef Amato. Teach me.”
“I stand corrected.” I tip her chin up, stroking her delicate skin in my palm.
“With?”
“ That’s hotter than hearing you call me papi.”
Acting coy, her eyelashes flutter. “Oh, you mean, you like when I call you Chef?”
“Mhm. Si, Chef. Yes, Chef. Any combination of it with Amato at the end. All of it.”
I scoop her into my arms and onto the counter, just as the door swings open, revealing Tomás in the doorway.
Shielding his eyes with the stack of paperwork secured with a binder clip in his hands, he shuts the door and moves past us.
“Please, don’t ruin my kitchen you two.”
Lorena hops off the counter. “We really need to get out of here,” she mumbles.
“We won’t,” I call after Tomás, but he’s already in his room. “No te preocupes,” I then say to Lorena.
“Muy bien.” Lorena claps excitedly, proud of the Spanish lessons she’s been giving me slowly beginning to take.
“Thank you.” I extend my hand to hers, and she latches onto it allowing me to pull her in. “Don’t worry,” I repeat, this time in English. “We’ll have that taken care of soon enough.” I reassure her, my heart pounding a mile a minute in my chest at the thought of having a place of our own.
A place we can call ours.
A home.
A chance at our very own happily ever after.