Undercover Lovers (3 page)

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Authors: Chloe Cole

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #anthology, #short stories, #contemporary, #erotic romance, #anthologies, #secrets

BOOK: Undercover Lovers
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Excuse me?” Saffron asked,
at the same time Vicky gasped.


Ask Edmond to make
everything to go. Miss Burton and I will be dining out tonight,
instead. This is too public for what I have in mind.”


Hey, wait just
a—”

She didn’t get a chance to
finish as August’s hand tightened around hers. “Beg pardon, Madame.
I am too presumptuous.” Every once in a while she caught hint of a
European accent and now proved one of those times. No, she did not
want him to think she would be an easy one-night stand, but when
that accent came out to play, a rigid spine went limp. “Would I
able to interest you in a more intimate dining experience…in my
home?”

Holy hell,
breathe!

She had a story to finish. A
review to write.

She also had an insanely hot
man inviting her back to his place, where dinner may or may not be
eaten.

If she stayed, she
might
get the food she’d
come here specifically to taste. Four months of waiting, over; her
editor, happy. Maybe there’d be a boost in subscribers to her
column and renewed interest.

If she went however, the
food became a
maybe
, but the sexual drought she’d been suffering through would
come to an abrupt halt. No one had to spell it out for her. Despite
the moment’s hesitation earlier, fractured self-confidence pieced
itself together. If she went with August now, she’d find herself
under him and in his arms, in no time. The way his mouth moved over
her hand, tasting and teasing, sampling just her fingers until she
felt every sensual touch through her toes suggested—no,
guaranteed
—August had
more on his mind than food.

The restaurant buzzed with
frenetic energy behind him, but when she looked at August, raw
sexual need stared back at her. Walking out of his place on such a
busy night couldn’t be easy for him, but he’d made the
offer.

All she had to do was
accept.

Which was more important
right now: the review or the promise of an amazing night to
come?

 

Chapter Three


And you’re certain about
this?” Saffron asked.


Never more,” he
replied.

She hesitated and for a
split-second, the certainty she’d be turning him down bombarded
him, but then she reached for her purse. “Then lead the
way.”

August held out his hand and
watched as she exited the booth. Her breasts swayed with the
movement. It probably made him an asshole to watch them, but he
didn’t bother hiding his automatic smile as he did. Nice curves,
ass, legs and breasts. A playground just waiting for
him.

As he stood back, allowing
her to proceed first, he swallowed a lump in his throat. Saffron’s
back brushed against his hand and the urge to run his fingers
across her skin rode him hard. He’d bet money it would be softer
than butter. Way softer. The first chance he got, he’d test that
theory with not just his fingertips, but with lips and tongue
too.

Almost forgetting she
trailed behind them, he said to Vicky, “Please have someone deliver
our meal. Edmond knows to where.”


That’ll take longer, you
know.”


No worries,” he said almost
beneath his breath. The longer the better, truthfully. Many ideas
filled his mind on how to entertain Saffron in the
meanwhile.

Ahead of him, Saffron moved
like liquid silver, her lush hair swinging low against her back
just above where his fingers itched to be. He loved that she wore
it down, allowing the slight curls at the end to provide all the
styling it needed. She possessed the kind of hair perfect for
threading his fingers into. Maybe he’d end up wrapping those silken
strands around his hand as he filled her from behind with his cock,
stroking in and out of the velvet-lined walls of her
pussy.

His cock thumped now. The
very thought of her soft body beneath his made it difficult to
leave the restaurant without attracting some unwanted attention to
his enthusiastic lower anatomy.


August?”

Saffron’s smooth voice
snapped him out of his musings. With a slight grimace, August had a
sinking feeling she might have somehow read his licentious
thoughts. After a quick replay in his mind, he realized he’d missed
something she’d said. “Sorry?”

Smiling, she slowed until
they walked side-by-side. “I was saying you never did tell me the
name of the herb on the scallops.”

That conversation seemed a
lifetime ago. Back when he thought she worked for Brun. Then, he’d
been hesitant to list ingredients, but now it seemed harmless
enough. “The herb is called savory. This variety is only available
in summer. I chose it because it’s sweet, yet bold. Purists insist
it’s best for meats, but to me, it gives seafood a certain
j’ne sais quoi
. A kind of
refreshing quality.”


No wonder I didn’t
recognize it. Not something you hear about every day, but it
harmonizes with the rest of the ingredients as if they came out of
a box that way. Not that I’d ever believe anything
you
made came out of a
box, but you know what I mean. They’re perfect
together.”

They pushed through a crowd
waiting to be seated and proceeded out the restaurant’s doors.
Outside, he led her down the alley toward the employee’s parking
lot. A few seconds of silence passed as he marveled at his luck on
meeting her tonight. At the fortune of having a kitchen staff he
could leave without notice, knowing they’d continue without him,
not missing a beat in providing excellent service.

Their footsteps, almost
hypnotic in quality, echoed against the cool evening air.
Red-bricked buildings surrounding them on both sides, forcing gusts
of breeze to plow into them as they walked. August maneuvered
himself closer, allowing his body to take the brunt. He held out
his elbow, offering his arm. When Saffron took it, burrowing her
body a little against his, he considered it a bonus.


A lot of my cooking is
about instinct. About listening to the ingredients speak to each
other. Other times, it’s a tugging deep inside that compels you to
do something a little different from what you’d been taught. Just
trying things out to see if there’s a possibility they could work
together. Like you said, harmonize.” August shrugged down at her.
“Ever have something trigger an idea so strong you have to act on
it right there and then?”

Her gaze flitted to his lips
and back up. A quick glance, but he’d caught it. “I’m not sure if
I’ve ever been that impulsive.”

His chin brushed his
shoulder as he spoke to her and Saffron pressed even closer to
catch his words over the roaring wind. Their bodies huddled close
together brought them almost within kissing distance. Close, but
not nearly close enough. He said, “It’s how I operate. I see an
herb, or a piece of meat, or even a vegetable and I get this idea
in my head. Can’t sleep, can’t think about anything else until I
give it the attention it’s crying for.”


Must be hell on your
concentration.”


You have no idea. I can’t
think of anything,”—he leaned closer—“else.”

Their steps slowed until
now, they came to a stop. Saffron’s chin tilted toward him, giving
August all the encouragement he needed. Throwing professionalism
and caution to the wind, he decided to go for it.

His fingers threaded into
her chestnut locks at the same time his mouth captured hers. A
single step and he twisted, bringing their bodies together. Soft
curves and ample breasts were temptations that almost lured his
hands away from less prurient places, but those lips claimed his
mind.

Hot damn, she tasted sweet.
August swept his tongue deeper inside, hunger for this woman
driving him to taste her further. She parted her lips willingly,
moaning into the kiss with unabashed fervor. He leaned forward,
aching to feel her breasts pressed against him, frustrated too many
layers of clothing separated their bodies.

It was hell keeping his
hands above her shoulders, so he twisted his fingers, letting those
silken strands of hair trap him in place. If he did what his body
wanted—what it
commanded
—she’d find herself spread before him against the wall, dress
bunched around her waist, restaurant guests and other passersby be
damned.

He couldn’t remember the
last time he’d been this hot and heavy for a woman within minutes
of meeting her, but right now he could focus on nothing else. He
wanted Saffron. Wanted her
bad
.


Wait, August,” she gasped.
He stilled, but her lips walked over his. Brushed with the most
delicate of touches. She trembled. Inhaled before exhaling a long,
shuddering breath. “Oh dear, my head’s spinning.”

He wasn’t sure if he should
be concerned or flattered.

Pulling back, he let the
curly ends of her hair unravel from his hands. August stilled,
breathed hard, trying like hell not to take in the subtle scent of
vanilla coming from her, but his body betrayed him. “I’m sorry.
That was rather impulsive.”


Please don’t think I didn’t
enjoy it,” Saffron hastened to add. Those beautiful brown eyes were
wide, her luscious lips still moist. “I did…oh God, did
I.”


But I’m moving too fast.”
He should have known better. This was too wonderful and sexy and
much.


No, that’s not it.” She
looked away. “Not really.”

His heart leapt.


But?” August had to hear
what got in the way of being with this woman. For some reason, she
held herself back. If he had any control of removing the barrier,
he’d shatter it within minutes.

Saffron gave him a shy
glance. Then her gaze moved to the buildings on either side of
them. “I don’t know...I think there’s something I should tell
you…”


Like what?” As much as he
tried to focus on what she had to say, August kept looking at her
lips. At how full they’d become after he’d tasted them. How plump
and moist. “Christ above,” he muttered and dove in
again.

Saffron moaned when he
parted her lips with his tongue, sweeping in to find the still
lingering remnants of wine. Her soft hand crept beneath the uniform
jacket, finding the t-shirt he habitually wore underneath. August
could have groaned with frustration. He needed her hands on his
bare skin or, if she insisted on staying on the covered parts of
him, at least moving lower a centimeter or so. Still, she trailed
her fingers over the tightness of his abdomen, heedless to the riot
of sensation brewing within.


That’s what you are,” he
murmured. Their lips brushing.


Hmm?”


An urge. A desire. I look
at you and I know what to do. What needs to be done.”


Oh? Are you comparing me to
one of your creations?”

Those heavenly lips
continued to dance over his as they talked. Her tongue teased along
his mouth in between words. Despite the crowds they’d pushed
through to get outside, no one walked the alley now to intrude in
this private time.


No,” August replied, “but
you inspire me.”

A light laugh. “To do
what?”


This.” He claimed her lips
again, need spiraling through him until he knew nothing else. It
was senseless and reckless to ravage her like a drunken prom date,
but he could no more help himself than he could help the urge to
breathe. 

He groaned when she tilted
her hips forward, brushing against the erection straining to break
free of his trousers. “I’d have to agree. You do seem…inspired,”
Saffron teased.


Keep that up and you’ll
find out first hand just how impulsive—and creative—I can be on
short notice.”


You started this, Chef. I’m
just following your lead.”

August glanced from side to
side at the deserted alleyway, thankful again they were the only
occupants.

He lifted his hand to the
side of her face, letting his thumb stroke over the soft curve of
her jaw. Saffron tilted her head, giving his hand access to smooth
over the skin of her neck, before tracing the dip at the neckline
of her dress. He watched her eyes smolder as he followed the
stretch of the black material, which kept her breasts almost
completely covered. Her breathing changed as he stroked his
fingers, back and forth, clothing to skin and then to clothing
again. So very close to slipping beneath the dress to play with her
bare breast beneath.


August,” she whispered so
softly he leaned his ear next to her mouth to hear her. The pace of
her breathing had increased, each gentle exhale kissing his
face.


Yes, Madame?”


You’re teasing
me.”

He let his finger glide down
her cleavage, then lower to the soft curves of her belly. She drew
in her breath sharply when he lowered his hand to the hem of her
skirt, before letting that same hand slip beneath it to ride her
leg. “Yes, Madame, I am.”

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