Just a Taste (31 page)

“What’s this all about, Vivi?”

Vivi looked away nervously. “Us.”

“Us,” he murmured, his defenses immediately kicking in, despite the fact she obviously hadn’t come to kick him in the teeth again, unless she was some kind of sadist. “What about us?”

Vivi looked at him. “I made a mistake in breaking things off. If you’ll have me, I’d like another chance, please.”

For a split second, Anthony felt as if his heart might burst free of his chest and throw a victory punch, but the pain she’d inflicted on him over the winter made him wary. He wanted to know why she’d changed her mind. He
deserved
to know why. And so, even though he longed to take what she said at face value and just gather her up in his arms, he asked for an explanation.

“Why the change of heart?” he asked suspiciously.

“I realized”—Vivi swallowed as she began toying with her spoon—“that
I
was the one who couldn’t let go of Angie. Not you.”

Dumbstruck, Anthony pushed his back up against his chair. “Why do you think that is?”

“I was scared, Anthony.”

“What about your whole ‘I can’t handle a relationship and run a restaurant at the same time’ schtick? You’ve suddenly changed your mind?”

“That was just an excuse,” Vivi admitted softly, “though you do have to admit, many chefs’ relationships don’t last.” She rubbed her temple. “I was afraid,” she repeated, “especially after the bedroom thing.” The mention of it made the air crackle. “I guess you could say I frogged out.”

“Freaked out.”

She began choking up. “Please say you forgive me and will give me another chance.”

He could feel his defenses beginning to crumble, but continuing wariness stopped him from giving in. “You totally broke my heart, Vivi. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Vivi said shakily. “To me, that’s the worst part of all this. That I hurt you when you didn’t deserve it.”

“How do I know you won’t do it again?”

“Because I swear to you,” she said fiercely. “I love you, Anthony. This can work, if you’ll just forgive and trust me.”

He wanted to, but the memory of her abrupt change of heart still smarted. All those careful months of circling each other, only to open himself up to love again and have her push him off a cliff—there was no way he was going to go through a drama like that again. Getting kicked in the nuts once was tough to take. Getting kicked twice just proved you were a chump.

He stood up, pulling loose and shaking the damp, sweaty T-shirt that had pasted itself to his chest. “I need to think about this. Why don’t you stay here and have some pudding while I run up and shower? Then we’ll talk some more.”

Vivi nodded, her eyes following him as he left the kitchen. He ran up the stairs, grabbing a towel from the linen closet before plunging into the shower. He turned his face up to the hot spray of water, letting it beat down on him. Him and Vivi, back together. It should have been a no-brainer, but he still couldn’t make the leap of faith.

V
ivi sat in
the silent kitchen, listening as Anthony padded upstairs to take his shower. Having asked for forgiveness and a second chance, she’d received wariness. But she knew Anthony—while his words were cautious, his smoldering eyes showed the love and desire he felt for her. Bodies never lied, and she was going to make his tell the truth.

Vivi felt a roiling within her. One minute, she was sitting at the kitchen table, docilely accepting Anthony’s decision to ruminate while showering. The next she was climbing the stairs, stealthy as a cat, heartbeat accelerating at the very idea of seduction. She felt her nipples go hard; her breath was already beginning to come in short, staccato bursts.

She paused with her hand on the bathroom door to steady herself. She could hear the water of the shower pelting down on the bath tiles, strong and insistent. As quietly as she could, she opened the bathroom door and tiptoed inside, closing the door behind her. Through the frosted glass of the shower stall she could see the outline of Anthony’s body, and her heart took another tumble as she thought,
How silly of him to work out.
His body was perfection to her, muscles where there should be, hard to the touch. Restless, she pulled her long-sleeved T-shirt over her head and shimmied out of her bra, jeans, and panties, still being careful to keep as silent as possible. She peered down at her own nakedness, assessing, appraising. She was nowhere near as thin as so many chiseled American women, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t sexy. Her hips were soft but firm, her breasts somewhat small yet girlishly voluptuous. She loosed her braid, shaking her blonde hair out. Her heart was now pounding so loudly she was shocked Anthony couldn’t hear it over the rush of the water. Slow and steady, she approached the shower, gently pulling open the door and slipping inside.

Anthony looked shocked. “Vivi—”

Hungrily she pulled his face down to hers, steaming water rushing over both their bodies. Her kiss was ravenous and demanding; Anthony returned it, drawing her to him, the two of them pressed together, hard, beneath the glistening cascade.

Vivi splayed her palms against his hard chest, the water aiding her hands in sliding easily over the smooth surface of his skin. Anthony closed his eyes. He couldn’t hide his arousal; it was there in full view, pulsing to life as she reached down to take him in her hand. Vivi was surprised when he moved to block her, his brown eyes dark with desire.

“Too soon,” he said. “Let me enjoy
you
a little bit first.”

He turned her gently so she faced away from him, anticipation spiraling through every cell of her body. How was it possible to feel so relaxed yet so aroused at the same time? The soft press of the soap against her back brought a mellow rush of pleasure. Anthony began soaping her in small, tender circles. She felt pampered, cared for. And then his teeth nipped the curve of her neck, and colors she’d never seen before began exploding in her head.

She heard the thump of the soap as it dropped from his hands and he drew her tightly to him, his strong hands pressing against her belly, his mouth planting butterfly kisses up and down her neck.

She let her head fall back on his shoulder, rocking and rubbing her buttocks against him, animal desire rising. Anthony’s hands traveled up her body, cupping her breasts. His fingers began circling her nipples, while at her ear, his tongue flicked and played with her lobe, one minute tugging with his teeth, the next sucking.

“You like—?” Anthony whispered in her hand.

Vivi’s body was beginning to quiver. “Oh, God…
oui
.”

He bit down hard on her lobe and she cried out, pain mixing with pleasure. There was a current of wet both within and without her, as the eddying swirls of desire inside her began moving faster. Anthony’s hands slipped low on her belly, then stopped.
God, please go lower. Please.
Vivi held her breath, burning shards of desire tumbling inside her as his hand reached down, parting her soft folds. Slowly, almost tauntingly, he began playing with her, his fingers caressing and teasing.

Vivi moaned, swelling with arousal. The water, his need pressing hard and hot now between the cheeks of her buttocks, the building tempo of his fingers—she could feel consciousness slipping off to some other place as she gave herself over to total sensation.
“Je t’aime,”
she moaned.
“Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,”
he whispered back in her ear, pulling the both of them against the far wall of the shower stall. His fingers were still circling her, but now, with his other hand, he adjusted the shower nozzle and opened her wide, pounding beads of water slapping against inner thighs.

Vivi gasped dizzily, tilting her hips upward for full sensation. Her legs were beginning to shake as Anthony’s fingers continued weaving their magic, moving faster now as he panted in her ear, his breath ragged. Jagged bolts of fire seared her skin as the water pelted down on her, hot and endless. And then it happened—she felt herself plunging over her own waterfall, her body flying apart in the mist and roar of the water. She laughed joyfully as an avalanche of water poured down on her, sacred, baptismal. When the seismic shocks in her body finally abated, she turned to Anthony, cupping his face in her hands.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly.

“Which was better?” Anthony asked, grabbing one of her hands and kissing her fingers fervently. “That or my hazelnut risotto pudding?”

“That,” Vivi said, snaking an index finger between his lips. He sucked hard, and Vivi felt another spasm inside her gaining momentum. She wanted more. Wanted to feel herself grasp him from inside. Wanted
him
.

“You now,” she purred.

“I agree. But there’s something I need to do first.”

Vivi watched with cautious fascination as he turned off the shower, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the stall. He reached for the giant towel hanging nearby on the wall. Wrapping her in it, he picked her up in his arms, heading for the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” Vivi squealed delightedly.

“Something I should have done months ago.”

He carried her, himself naked and dripping wet, across the landing to his bedroom door. There was no hesitation at all as he kicked the door open and brought her inside, depositing her roughly on the bed. His gaze was almost feral as he tore open the damp towel covering her and climbed atop her, his mouth claiming hers with a masculine greediness that stunned her.

“Jesus Christ, Vivi, you drive me wild…” She could feel his body tensing with restraint. She didn’t want restraint. She wanted abandon. Her voice was desperate as she strained upward against him, digging her nails into his damp back.

“Fuck me,” she implored. “Please. Now.”

A guttural groan escaped Anthony’s lips as he raised himself up. Vivi waited breathlessly, knowing what was to come next, crying out as he drove himself deep inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, reveling in his fullness, in the passionate certainty with which he claimed her body.

“Harder,” she commanded, beginning once again to feel the undertow of desire dragging her under. Pleasure punched its way through her blood as he began thrusting deeper, each slam of his hips against hers as much a proclamation as a demand.

Their eyes met and held as Anthony continued pumping, bringing her once again to the screaming precipice where there was no time to linger, only plunge. She tightened herself around him, urging him on, begging and whispering things that should never be said aloud in the full light of day. Anthony’s eyes clouded over with lust before he closed them, giving himself over to pleasure in a way that made Vivi feel strangely triumphant. When his moment of release arrived, his body was taut as a bow, the planes of sunlight striking his face from the open window giving him the cast of a conquering warrior. He emptied himself into her with all the speed and urgency he had, the strangled cry of his orgasm echoing in her ears. It was a sound she knew she’d never tire of.

D
eliciously decadent. Those
were the first words that came to Vivi’s mind as she slowly came awake after lying asleep in Anthony’s arms. She could tell by the slant of the sun coming through the windows that it was close to noon, perhaps a little later. They’d slept long and deep, both of them sated, both of them finally at peace.

Vivi turned to look at him, surprised to see he was still asleep. She listened to the steady rise and fall of Anthony’s breath, and prayed it would be the soundtrack of her life. She imagined them older, curled up together just like this, the walls of the room festooned with photos of their children, maybe even their grandchildren one day. She saw them out and about, holding hands in Paris, arguing about restaurants and ingredients. Their life would be a never-ending discussion, the conversation never, ever dull.

She kissed him softly, and his eyes opened as he smiled at her sleepily, pulling her closer. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey.”

“You been awake for long?”

“No.”

Anthony lifted up his head, squinting at the alarm clock on the nightstand in surprise. “Jesus, it’s almost noon.”

“So what?” Vivi snuggled tighter against him. “It’s our day off. What does it matter?”

“You’re right.” He kissed the top of her head. “You sleep?”

“I did.” She gave a little yawn. “I am a bit hungry, though.”

“Me, too. Just let me wake up a little bit more and I’ll go down and make us some breakfast.”

Vivi propped herself up on one elbow. “What will you make?”

“Coffee, maybe some biscuits.”

“What kind of biscuits?”

“Biscuit biscuits—you know, with buttermilk, shortening?”

Vivi wrinkled her nose. “You should add some vanilla.”

“What?” Anthony came up on his elbow. “You don’t add vanilla to buttermilk biscuits.”

“Well, they sound very dull otherwise.” Vivi sat up, raking her hand through her hair. “I know, why don’t you stay here and relax, and
I’ll
go make us breakfast?”

“Yeah?” Anthony sounded dubious. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, depending on what you have in your kitchen”—she gave him a pointed look—“I could make scrambled eggs.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making scrambled eggs.”

“Chere.”
Vivi put her hand on his arm. “Americans make terrible scrambled eggs. They’re so dry. The French way is better; you make them over a gentle heat so they stay soft, like custard.”

“Fine. Then I’ll do the coffee.”

“No, that’s all right, I’ll do the coffee, too,” Vivi offered quickly.

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “You still think you do coffee better, huh?”

“Of course I do.”

“Honey, you forget: I’ve had your coffee, and it’s no great shakes.”

Vivi snorted. “Whoever heard of shaking coffee? That’s ridiculous!”

“No, no.” Anthony looked charmed as he took her hand. “It’s an expression we use when something is just run of the mill.”

“The mill?” Vivi was more confused than ever.

“Okay, let me put it simply: your coffee is mediocre, Vivi. I love you, but it is.”

“Savage.” She flopped back down beside him, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re wrong,” she said after a few seconds.

Anthony covered his face with his hands and groaned. “This is it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“What the rest of our lives are going to look like.”

Vivi thought a moment. “Probably,” she agreed happily.

Anthony chuckled, rolling atop her. “How about this,” he suggested, stroking her hair. “We go down to the deli to pick up lunch.”

“That deli with the scalding coffee and soggy egg sandwiches?”

Anthony’s shoulders sank. “Yes.”

“I would love that!” Vivi bubbled.

“Great.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Then let’s shower and get dressed—”

“And after lunch we can come back here and plan dinner!”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is. I’ll even let you help me,” Vivi teased.

Anthony wrapped his arms around her again. “I’ll be your sous chef anytime,” he murmured.

Vivi kissed him softly. “And I yours.”