Inferno Anthology (6 page)

Affection already gleamed in the young man’s eyes.

As the students waved goodbye and filed out of the class, Errol couldn’t help but wonder how much time Taryn would spend with the boy. Was she going to her next class with him? Would they have lunch? Dinner?

He shoved the speculation and questions aside until he arrived home later that night. As he pushed the key into the lock he wondered if she’d be there. Perhaps Henri had invited her out for a drink, or a bite to eat.

Did he care? Really? She was just a… He inhaled deeply and reminded himself who he was. He could have any woman. Yes… but he wanted this one. He desired this one.

On opening the door he was flooded with an unusual wave of relief as he heard Taryn humming in the kitchen.

“Don’t look,” she called out with childish glee. “I’m trying something new.”

“Well, it certainly smells good.”

“I hope you didn’t eat yet.”

“Of course not. It’s only six-thirty.”

“I went to the wine store you brought me to,” she said as she emerged from the kitchen and met him in the living area. She offered him a glass of red wine. “I thought you might like this one;
Chateau du Pape.
.”

He took a sip, rolled it around in his mouth a moment then swallowed. “A very good choice. And what will you be serving with it?” He looked her over, taking in her casual and relaxed attire that suited her to perfection.

At the institute, students were asked to wear a white chef’s jacket to every class; an overcoat that hid any attribution a young woman might have. It pleasured him to now see Taryn in snug yoga pants and a teal tank top that hugged her breasts in a full, well-rounded manner. Her long blond hair was pulled off her face in a neat ponytail. Without a trace of make-up, her face was the picture of clean, fresh beauty. She was breathtaking, a natural beauty, who didn’t seem to know how gorgeous she was.

“I had an idea for a hot and spicy take on a rack of lamb,” she called over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen.

“Are my classes already inspiring you?” He absent-mindedly rolled the wine around in the glass while his eyes remained steadfastly on her exiting buttocks…perfectly round, soft, and tight. He felt his jeans tightening in front as he imagined running his hands over them, grabbing them and holding them while he rammed hard into her.

“Actually it’s Henri who gave me the idea… you know, the guy I paired up with.”

Errol frowned and set the glass of wine on the table. With an unhappy pout pursing his lips, he cracked his knuckles.

“You know, he first gives the impression of being some country bumpkin who doesn’t know squat about
haute cuisine
, or any
cuisine
for that matter, but, when you take a minute to talk to him, he really knows what he’s talking about.”

“That’s nice,” Errol muttered.

“Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll hop into the shower then.”

“Perfect.”

Under the hot running water, Errol tried to scrub off the uneasy sense of insecurity that engulfed him.

He closed his eyes and imagined her, nude, her firm breasts glowing under thick, creamy lather. Droplets trickled down to her navel and onward between her thighs. A thin line of fine blond hair indicated the heated passage he longed to lose himself in.

There was something fiery about her; something hidden behind the innocent, wide eyes. He’d seen it in her frown when he’d released her that first night; the wanting; the desire. Her delicious lips had remained parted in hunger long after he’d left her side.

As he lathered his torso, his hand brushed against the hard-on that cried out for release. Tempted to take a firm grip, to envision Taryn’s body against his as he pumped out his need to touch her again, he reached for the faucet and cooled the water.

When his body had thoroughly chilled, he shut the water and patted himself dry. As he returned to his room to dress, he debated whether to dress like the professional he was or to entice Taryn with something more alluring; snug but casual sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Enticement won.

He looked at his nude torso and imagined her lips on his skin, her tongue licking every ridge of his stomach and while heading down to take him into her mouth. His penis hardened thinking how she would first suck shyly and then hard, vigorously, running her teeth over his sensitive tip. “God, I want you bad,” he groaned as he pulled a tight white t-shirt over his head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Perfect timing,” Taryn exclaimed as he entered the dining room.

The table was beautifully set. The silver candelabra his grandmother had given him; the one he had never used, now sat in the center of the table with three long tapered candles that glowed with romantic promise. His finest china was laid out, as was his flatware.

“If your meal is as good as this table looks, I think I’m going to enjoy having you in my home even more.” He narrowed his eyes appreciatively at her blushing cheeks and flushed chest.

“I was afraid you might not take too well to my cooking my own dishes.” She sat down facing him then looked down at herself. “Oh, I forgot to change. This is such an elegant meal, I can’t just…”

“You look perfect. I like this laid back look.”

“Well, in that case.” She raised her glass. “
Bon appetit
.”

“
Bon appetit
.”

Taryn looked apprehensively at him as he sliced through the lamb and took his first might.

“The verdict?” she said when he remained silent.

He cocked an impressed brow. “Interesting. Is that cumin I taste?”

“It is.”

“And a hint of… what is that?” He took another bite. “Cinnamon?”

“Could be,” she said with a pleased and teasing grin.

“It’s not something I would have ever thought to try, but… it works. Congratulations.”

“I’m happy you like it.”

Throughout dinner, they spoke of the upcoming classes and the cookbook that she’d be working on. While he managed to speak clearly enough about his culinary intentions, his mind was far from the kitchen. Repeatedly, his gaze dipped into the valley of her breasts and he was mesmerized by the thought of seeing her completely nude, feeling her soft heated skin against his, her wet folds touching his hardness like a kiss. She’d be as sweet as she looked, but with a touch of spice that seemed to heat up every part of his body. The combination of innocent and sexy was intoxicating to him, especially the hint of defiance in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if she despised him, but was humoring him to get ahead. Whatever it was, he wanted to possess her, own her, make her his. His erection harden just thinking about having her naked in his bed, while his mouth worked on her most delicious core. Errol’s face darkened with desire as he stared heatedly at her.
He would be damned if he didn’t fuck her tonight.

When she picked up a bone and ravenously sucked on the tip, he nearly dropped his glass of wine. Her lips, perfectly puckered, perfectly sensuous, perfectly set to take him in and… Oh, how delicious it would be.

As wonderful as the meal was, he set his fork down and leaned back with his glass of wine and watched her. One by one, she took each of the four bones on her plate and cleaned them off, picking daintily at the remaining meat with her long slender fingers before sucking the juices off.

He tried to catch her gaze. Did she have any idea the effect she had on him? For all appearances, she seemed oblivious. Her appetite was reserved to the food on her plate and not the hungry man sitting in front of her.

She set her fork down and looked at him. “Without wanting to sound pretentious, I have to admit I impress myself.”

“And with good reason. It was a bold move, but the contradiction of flavors was perfectly balanced.” He reached out to take her hand. “Looks like I made the right choice it taking you on to test my recipes. You won’t have any trouble finding flaws or miscalculations. You’ll probably even improve many of them.”

She cocked a brow. “Will I get credit?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Really? I was being facetious.”

“I might be a pretentious and arrogant bastard when I need to be, but I know how to give credit where credit is due. I might even include this very meal in my book… if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay? It’s more than okay. It’s fabulous. Wait until I tell my mother. My own recipe, my own creation in a book as prestigious as yours.”

His hand remained over hers and he was dismayed by the lack of physical reaction from her. She didn’t grip his fingers or show any sign of welcoming more of his touch. Cool and aloof, she pulled away, stood and cleared the dishes. Did she not have any desire for him?

“Wait until you see what I concocted for dessert.”

She returned a minute later. “These are caramelized tangerine slices on a bed of a secret crunchy cereal mix, drizzled with a buttery citrus
coulis
.”

“Humm,” he mumbled as he chewed on his first bite. “An interesting touch of saltiness that embraces that tartness of the tangerine. Excellent.”

Errol was genuinely impressed by the creative boldness of the young woman in front of him so much so that he finished off the evening sitting back and enjoying Taryn’s culinary creations, relegating his sexual urges to another day.

Taryn’s lack of response tonight puzzled him, yet frustrated him. He was ready to show this innocent beauty all the pleasures her body could take, but instead, her passion was for the culinary dishes she created tonight. He was proud of her bold choices, but frustrated. He didn’t want a woman in his bed, who did not want to be there. Yet, he was so certain, she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

*****

The weeks’ classes were a blur of knife skills, storing methods and the preparation of dough and sauces. Every day, Errol was surprised and impressed by Taryn’s keen palate and her ability to see what few students saw. She was focused on her studies, and as serious as the most promising students already working professionally at prestigious restaurants were.

Her questions were always straight to the point and her answers articulate.

But what caught his attention was the simple beauty she brought to his class every day. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, nor could he help wanting to get close to her and touch her when he could. While many of the other young female students, and even a few males, tried desperately to gain his attention, his eyes constantly returned to Taryn who continued living under his roof, so close yet so far away. Her sudden indifference to him frustrated him, yet he bid his time. He savored the challenge she posed, knowing when the time came for him to make her his, it would be worth it.

More often than not, her eyes were on Henri, smiling, affectionate and kind. She often helped him where he fumbled, but Errol had to admit, the young man from the countryside had talent, if not a certain boyish charm.

The two together were a powerful force; something that had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the class. It was also clear to any man, the boy was besotted with Taryn, sneaking glances are her when she wasn’t looking, finding any excuse to touch her hand or shoulders. Had not Taryn responded so strongly to him that first day they met, Errol would have been concerned about the innocent flirtations Henri shared with Taryn. But Errol, nevertheless, kept his eye on him. And Taryn. Always on Taryn.

“I loved your class today,” Taryn said as she leaned into the counter to watch him clean the oysters, mussels and clams he’d just brought home.

“Really? It was just a revision of what we looked at last week. I was surprised to see the number of students who couldn’t handle skinning and filleting a salmon.”

“You’ll think I’m childish and petty, but I think that’s part of the reason I liked it. So many students have been mean and nasty to me. It was kind of nice watching them stumble their way around that poor fish.”

Grinning, Errol looked at her. Childish innocence hung around her like a golden aura. It wasn’t hard to see why so many of the girls in class disliked her. She was beautiful, smart and talented. As for the boys in the class, obviously Taryn hadn’t noticed the way they always looked at her, sneaking a peek whenever she wasn’t looking.

Without her even noticing, her rear end always seemed to attract a large amount of that attention from the men. Every time she took her overcoat off at the end of the class, male eyes turned her way. She had an exquisite way of filling out the snug jeans she always wore in class.

“Is it true what they say about oysters?” Taryn asked.

“I don’t know. What do they say about oysters?”

Taryn shot him a quirky smirk. “You’re a chef. You were raised in France. You’re reported to be a sex machine. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know what everybody else says about oysters. I’m sure even your Nana knows.”

“Oh, the sex thing.” He held up a perfect specimen. “These?”

“Yes, those.”

“Well, you know what? How ‘bout we cook all these babies up, serve them in a delicious, Italian inspired sauce and see what happens.”

After pouring her a glass of ruby red wine, he poured some into the sauce he’d concocted.

Within minutes each shellfish had cracked open, revealing the tender meat inside. Taryn artistically placed a few asparagus spears and glazed carrots onto two plates.

“Dinner is served.” Errol spooned the oysters, clams and mussels into two large bowls.

“Certainly smells enticing.”

“Have you ever had oysters before?” He took his seat and looked at the uncertain grimace on her face.

“I did… once… a long time ago. It didn’t look anything like this.”

“Now,” Errol said as he picked up a shell and brought it to his mouth. “Let me tell you what I think about this whole aphrodisiac business. While some believe eating oysters will stir your libido, I think…” He slipped his tongue over the quivering mass of flesh atop the shell.

Taryn had the exact reaction he was hoping for. Her eyes widened in shock, narrowed with intrigue then became heavily hooded with a secret longing to see more. He obliged, passing his tongue over the bulbous nub that attached the meat to the shell.