Recipe for Satisfacton (14 page)

“I dream about your mouth,” she whispered. “Taking me to the edge.” She was panting now. “So fast. So hard.”

“Tonight’s not a dream, sweetheart.” He focused his lapping on her hard bead. “Tonight you can have anything you want.”

She gripped his head with both hands and pushed him against her. She cried out, her sex pulsing beneath his tongue. “I want it all,” she whispered into the night air.

It only took a few more licks and she tipped over the edge. Her legs clamped together and her body curled up as she moaned through her orgasm.

“You’re so good at that.” Her words were muffled with the grip of her legs against his ears.

When she eased up, Jack didn’t waste a second and thrust into her body.

The cool breeze from the water kicked up the sand around them. But he didn’t stop thrusting. He fused their mouths together, their tongues dancing, tangling in the same rhythm as his hips.

She ripped her mouth away and with a force he didn’t know she possessed, flipped their positions. With her hands palm-down in the sand, she hovered over his body, her hips moving in tight circles against him.

She smiled. “You said I could have whatever I wanted.”

“Anything.” He nodded. “Everything.” He shot up, fusing his torso with hers. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck. He latched on to the spot just under her ear and bit down.

She shuddered.

He moved his hands and slid them under her dress. He gripped her hips and helped her, adding more force to every thrust. “Ride me. Take your pleasure.”

She attacked his lips but their kiss didn’t last long. Taking over the action, she pushed him down, resting her palms on his chest. She bobbed up and down at her own pace, which seemed to quicken with every second. He even lifted her dress to watch, the sight of his cock disappearing inside her a beautiful sight to behold.

He fondled the soft globes of her breasts, then pulled down the neckline of her dress and pushed aside her bra cups, exposing them to the night air. With her lips parted and her eyes shut tight, she was lost in her own pleasure.

The sound of the water lapping at the shore was the perfect background to their intimate encounter. And with the position of the moon hidden behind Sterling’s body, it glowed behind her, lighting her up like an angel. His angel.

Her sex clamped down on his cock, and she cried out, “I’m coming.” Her moans grew louder. If she had been nervous about someone stumbling upon them she didn’t show it.

His orgasm coiled tight inside him, tighter, until it snapped. Jack thrust his hips one, two, three times in rapid succession, sending himself over the edge.

It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, a woman so lost in the moment. And at this moment, with her chest heaving and lips plump from his kisses, she had
satisfied
written all her face.

They only had one more weekend together. He made a promise to return to Chicago. He had a lot of work ahead of him now that he had decided to put his plan to expand the program into action. And asking Sterling for her help was the perfect excuse to spend more time together because somehow he knew that leaving her behind was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do.

Chapter Eleven

Sterling raced home, showered, and dressed, primping herself as best she could for her date with Jack.

It was finally Saturday. A tingle of excitement sparked low in her belly. She’d counted down the hours since she’d left him last Sunday night.

Sterling passed the time busy with her own clients during the day, then helping Jack with the auction and presentation every evening in between packing up the house. It was a good thing he wasn’t paying her by the hour because she was clocking in more than any other job she’d ever done. Not to mention spending quite a few of those hours in his bed. But as of last night, his proposal was complete and the house was organized. Movers had shown up to haul most of the items to a storage unit two days ago and everything that remained was scheduled to be picked up next week and shuttled to various agencies or the dump.

Neil, Finn, and Cole had stopped by and picked up a few items they wanted to keep for themselves. Finn raided the kitchen of pots, gadgets, and utensils. Cole took a few pieces of Vivian’s jewelry and a blue knit blanket, and Neil took an old box that was labeled
Arthur
. They all wanted pictures but Sterling had lied and told them the storage boxes hadn’t come in yet. Her surprise was almost complete. She only needed a few more hours and they would all have their own personal scrapbook of memories.

Her decision to help Jack with his proposal wasn’t monetary. That night on the beach she realized their time was coming to a close and she would have done anything to spend more time with him. Even if it meant she had to teach him how to use Microsoft Publisher.

Despite his hesitance, Jack didn’t need any help, and she secretly hoped his insistence had to do with the fact that he wanted to spend time with her. Heaven knew she wanted to spend every spare minute with him. She was falling…lightly. But it was only a matter of time before she picked up speed, and with Jack gone, she’d have no one there to catch her, smashing into the concrete below. She checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before hopping out of her car. Sterling experimented with lip gloss today—a treat she had picked up during the week. Her lips were plump and pink, perfect for kissing Jack’s lips.

She wondered what exciting things lay ahead for her that evening. Would they be using the jet again? Would they be visiting another hot spot meant to let down her guard?

She was told to dress casual tonight and meet him at the restaurant. Maybe fancy wasn’t in the cards.

The parking lot of Bistro was packed—as usual. The balmy summer air caressed her skin as she walked across the parking lot toward the restaurant. The sun, still shining brightly, started to make its descent toward the horizon. She smoothed down the front of her shirt and checked that her jeans were fitted perfectly before she entered the building.

He was waiting for her at the hostess desk. He chatted up the young girl, who went from all smiles to coolness as soon as she walked through the door.

“There you are.” He smiled and met her halfway. He hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye to the hostess, who huffed out an annoyed sound.

“I think I’m a few minutes late. I—”

Jack swooped in and kissed her. His tongue immediately swept against her lips, delving into her mouth with passionate force, the fact that she was late forgotten. With her mind a little hazy and her eyesight a little blurry, she stared up at him. This is what this man did to her.

“Let’s go. A motorcycle is waiting.”

“A motorcycle?” He pulled her by the hand and she yelped. “I didn’t agree to a motorcycle.”

He looked behind and cocked his head to the side. “You’re not calling the shots, now, are you?”

They walked around the building to the back parking lot. Sure enough, a motorcycle was parked by the back door to the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle.” There were probably a million more things she didn’t know about him.

“I don’t. It’s Neil’s. We’re just borrowing it for the evening.”

That reminded her. She wondered what he had up his sleeve for tonight. “What
are
we doing this evening?”

He stopped halfway to the bike and hugged her into his body, getting serious. “I want to take you somewhere.”

They walked up to the bike, where a young man stood guard smoking a cigarette.

“Thanks, Mario.” He nodded—more like gestured—telling Mario to become scarce. His power tingled inside her. With one head tilt, he commanded. That was definitely something she wasn’t accustomed to. But it sure as hell was something she’d like to be.

Two helmets sat atop the seat, a pair of gloves inside one of them. The bike was a black Ducati, and that’s all she could deduce from its physical appearance. She knew nothing about cars or motorcycles.

A leather jacket hung on the handlebar. Black with pink stripes down the sleeves. “Is that for me?”

“Every motorcycle chick needs a leather jacket.” He picked up the garment and held it out for her. She slid one arm in, then the other, the supple leather soft against her skin. It fitted perfectly.

“Put this on.” He picked up the black helmet and slipped it on her head. He fitted the chinstrap, then pushed the visor down. He did the same with his helmet and straddled the sleek black bike. His jeans stretched to accommodate the position of his legs, accenting his strong, muscular thighs. He kicked back the stand and looked at Sterling.

Nervousness filled her stomach, but she heated up at the thought of being pressed up against his body as they rode the streets.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

She approached the bike, lifted her leg, and swung it up and over the seat.

“Scooch in some more. Sit right against me and hold on tight.”

She positioned herself flush against his back. Her legs cradled his beautiful ass, and she wiggled in her seat, rubbing her body against him.

He turned his head. “If you keep doing that we’ll never make it through the first part of the night.”

“There’s a second part?”

“Patience, woman. All will be revealed in time.” He eased the bike back and straightened toward the road. “Lean into the turns, follow my body, and hold on tight.”

She tensed. Was she really going to go through with this?

“Sterling…not that tight.”

“Sorry.” She eased her grip, not having even noticed she’d tensed. But when she uncurled her fingers, she was thankful for the leather jacket protecting his skin from her nails.

The bike roared to life. She grabbed as much of his body as she could as they slowly eased out of the parking lot into the street. He took it slow as they navigated the city. The sensation of being in the open was exhilarating.

When they hit the highway, he went full throttle. They zipped down the open road faster than expected, faster than anything she had ever experienced.

He craned his neck. “Hold on.”

He gunned it. A scream escaped her lips. She clung for dear life, burying her head against his back, squeezing her eyes shut.

When she’d gotten her bearings, she peeked through one eye. The setting sun sparkled along Lake Ontario. She opened her other eye and loosened her grip, lifting her head from the safety of his body. She rested her chin on his shoulder.

She now understood what it was like to fly. The faster the bike went, the more excited she became. But she’d also never felt so vulnerable. He literally held her safety in his hands handling such a powerful and dangerous vehicle.

They merged north, traveling to the top of the city to the east. An area where she hadn’t spent much time. Although she missed the thrill of the open road, she was thankful when they veered off the highway and slowed.

She glanced around, a little uncomfortable with their surroundings. This wasn’t the best, or safest, section of the city. After a few minutes of weaving through the streets, he came to a stop in front of an industrial building.

He killed the engine and they slipped off the bike, taking their helmets with them.

Taking out a set of keys from his pocket, he walked up to the building and she followed behind. When he opened the double door, he ushered her in first, and when he flicked on the lights, she gasped. Although situated on an urban street corner, this building was far from industrial.

“This used to be a restaurant,” he said.

“This place is fantastic.” The room was set up like some sort of test kitchen. All white and stainless steel, the open ceilings bared the ductwork and pipelines. The floor was white tile. Five mini kitchens sat around the open space, each equipped with a counter, sink, stove, and cooktop—gas, of course. “What did you do here?”

“We gutted the restaurant and made it into the test site for the Cooking for the Future program,” he said as he closed the door behind them. “We need to get ready. The kids will be here any minute.” He walked to the front of the room, sat down his helmet, then slipped out of his leather jacket.

“Kids?”

“I’m teaching tonight. I’ve taken over the whole program since I’ve been back in town.”

“Oh…” This was the last thing she expected.

“I know it’s not the most romantic thing, but I didn’t want to skip one of our dates.”

She controlled a burst of excitement at his admittance. He wanted to spend time with her. And it also wasn’t lost on her that he would have canceled their date and put the children first.

“I’ve gotten attached to these kids since I’ve been back.”

The noise from the city streets wafted inside and she turned as a line of kids barreled into the building.

“Jack!” the second one in the door called. He smiled from ear to ear, his blond hair peeking out from underneath his baseball hat. His round, pudgy face was somewhat cute. “I made breakfast every day this week and finally I made an over easy-egg without breaking the yolk.”

“Excellent work, little man.” Jack held his hand out in the shape of a fist, waiting for the kid to fist-bump. “I told you, all it takes is practice.”

“Hey, Jack.” A young girl sidled up between the pudgy boy and him, stars in her eyes. Clearly she was smitten. She fiddled with her hands in front of her, probably unsure of how to deal with her crush. “What are we making today?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, Megan. Grab your space.” He gripped her shoulder and guided her toward a counter.

Three other kids—teens, really—took their positions and waited with excitement in their eyes for his next words. He had even these kids mesmerized.

“Come on, Sterling, you’re with me at the front.” He pulled her along and positioned her behind the long counter that spread across the back of the room.

“Huh? No. I can’t cook.” She had been excited to see him in front of an audience. When she thought he was teaching them. She stared down the young kids. “Jack?” she whispered, holding her hand around her mouth to keep the kids from hearing. “Remember the microwave?”

He only smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder.

But if he were as good a cooking instructor as he was a dance teacher, maybe she’d be a chef in no time.

“Good evening, everyone.” He stood beside her behind the front counter, a confident, easy smile spread across his face. The group of teenagers stared back at him with awe. With a simple
good evening
he held them in rapt attention. He was incredible.

“Who’s your friend, Jack?” the smallest of the group asked. He wore a skullcap and a red basketball jersey—what team, Sterling had no idea.

“This is my friend, Sterling Andrews.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. That simple gesture set off the butterflies in her stomach. “Sterling is going to cook with us.”

She tensed. “I really can’t cook.”

He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Neither could they.” He gestured to the kids. “Anyone can cook. All it takes is practice.”

“Oh, Jack, I…”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. “If they can do it, you can do it.”

She looked at the kids, who all had determination in their eyes. He was right. If they could do it, so could she. She stood strong and waited for her instructions.

“Can everyone say hello to Sterling?”

A round of hellos surrounded her. She shyly waved at the group.

“That’s not fair. She’s an adult,” the pudgy kid whined.

She had the overwhelming urge to stick out her tongue.

Jack laughed. “Don’t worry, Jesse. I assure you, she’s no threat.”

She’d show him just how much of a threat she could be.

“Can anyone guess what’s on the menu today by looking at the ingredients at your stations?”

“Cheese pasta,” one of them yelled.

He laughed. “Essentially, yes. It’s cheese pasta, better known as…”

“Macaroni and cheese,” Megan shouted.

He pointed at the correct answer.

“Macaroni and cheese?” Sterling asked. “I thought this was a cooking class. Don’t you just boil water and stir?”

“Not when you’re making it from scratch.”

The kids glared at her. Was she not supposed to question the teacher? She was in serious trouble. Boiling water was the extent of her culinary expertise. She was going to be upstaged by a bunch of kids.

“The first thing we’re going to do is make the base sauce. This is a sauce you can use in many recipes, a variety of different ways, and once you master it, you’ll have a ton of recipes at your fingertips. It’s called a béchamel sauce.”

Jack stepped down and walked through the rows of mini-kitchens. “Everyone put on your chef’s coats and let’s get started.”

She put on a coat he’d left for her and the kids followed suit, removing coats from their bags, all except for one—the pudgy one.

“Where’s your coat, Jesse” Jack asked.

The kid tugged down his baseball hat and refused to look him in the eye.

“Jesse?”

The kid glanced over at Megan, who was coaxing him to do something.

Jack looked between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you lose your coat?”

Jesse shook his head.

“Did you forget it?”

Again, Jesse disagreed.

“Then…”

Jesse slipped something out of his bag—the coat that used to be white. Black smudges covered the fabric, and one of the arms was ripped from the seam. It had been purposely ruined. The rest of the kids sat quietly, except for Megan.