A Feast of You (2 page)

“I’ve been helping Ben’s pastry chef. There’s a fixed menu, but both dinner services are sold out and that’s a lot of desserts. Plus, I wasn’t going to miss the chance to see my favorite girl’s face when I reveal
the pie
.” He put his hands up as though the words were emblazoned on bright lights along Broadway. They probably should have been. Beckett made the best key lime pie I’d ever tasted, and I’d asked him to make one as my Valentine’s Day gift to William.

For the past week I’d been agonizing over the age-old question of what to get the man who had everything, because, in this case, billionaire William really
did
have everything. The light bulb had gone off when, in passing, William had let it slip that key lime pie was his favorite dessert. If he liked key lime pie, he was going to go orgasmic when he tasted
Beckett’s
key lime pie.

“Ready?” Beckett took my hand and led me to a stainless steel table a bit away from the hustle of the line cooks. Clearly Beckett had deliberately set the scene. Lights shone down on the single pie in the center of the table. I must have sighed appreciatively because Beckett grinned and said, “I know.”

It was seriously the most beautiful pie I’d ever seen. The meringue was artfully sculpted into an array of tiny peaks and valleys, with the tips of the little points lightly toasted to perfection. A meticulous graham cracker crust peeked out from the top edge of the pie pan, and in the center, a few delicate slices of candied lime sparkled and crowned the creation. It looked incredible and almost too good to eat. “I’m drooling, Beckett. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“My produce guy really came through with the key limes. Leave it to you to ask for fresh key limes in February, but with what you’re paying, I could afford to have them flown in from Florida this morning. Now I need your assurance that you’ll pay for my hand surgery. I think I got carpal tunnel from squeezing all those tiny little limes. And it’s my right hand. You know what that means.”

I rolled my eyes. Beckett was still Beckett. He glanced out the now-open double doors into the main dining room, then back at me.

“Who’s the muscle at the bar, Cat? He’s pretty hot. Maybe you should introduce us.”

I glanced at Asa, who was still looking out of place at the bar, and then back at the lovely pie. “That’s Asa Singer. He’s my driver and protector today.”

“So romantic. Just like Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner in
The Bodyguard
.”

“Yeah. Without the singing or the romance, though.”

Beckett leaned on the table and sighed. “I’m glad William is taking your protection so seriously. You were practically hysterical when you called me about what went down at your condo last week. Scared the shit out of me. You apparently scared the shit out of your boyfriend, too, which is a good thing given his response.”

I didn’t want to talk about the break-in or about William’s security measures, so I switched subjects. “What do you and Alec have planned for tonight? Don’t you need to get home and get ready?”

Beckett blushed, and my mouth dropped in shock. Beckett never blushed.

“Alec has a surprise for me.”

“A surprise? How romantic!”

Beckett straightened and then leaned back on the table again. “I’m supposed to show up at his place at eight. He said I won’t be cooking.”

“Intriguing.”

Beckett fidgeted with the table’s corner and...blushed. Again! Beckett had confessed he might be in love with Alec. From all I’d seen, Alec really cared for him too. I was happy to see Beckett happy and finally falling for someone.

The two of us had spent many Valentine’s Days bemoaning our single status. While I’d always kind of gagged at the Hallmark holiday, Beckett really went in for the hearts and flowers and romance of the day. He went for that in real life too.

I gave his arm a squeeze. “Enjoy tonight, love. You deserve it. You deserve to be wined and dined and treated like a king.”

“Or queen.” Beckett cackled, and I laughed. “What’s on your Valentine’s Day agenda?” he asked, then held up a hand. “If it involves the kitchen floor, don’t tell me. I haven’t been barefoot in your kitchen since your
pain au chocolat
reveal.” He gave me a wicked smirk, which I countered with a playful smack.

“No kitchen floors. We’re having a quiet night in...with pie.” I gestured to the decadent culinary masterpiece before me.

“Ha! You two sex maniacs don’t know how to do ‘quiet.’” He leaned close, speaking in a whisper. “Just so you know, that graham cracker crust doesn’t belong in certain places. Hint, hint.”

Now I could feel my cheeks heat. “Obviously I tell you way too much about my sex life.”

“And you’d better not stop! Any idea what William’s getting you? More diamonds? Your own plane? Maybe an island?”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“Seriously, if he gives you an island, can we go this weekend? I’m so over the snow and the cold. I could totally use some beach time.”

“He’s not getting me an island, Beckett. Actually, we decided no gifts.”

Beckett staggered back in mock horror. “Are you fucking kidding me, Cat? What’s wrong with you? Your boyfriend is one of the richest men in the country, and he’s head over heels in love with you. Of course he’s going to get you a fabulously expensive present. Let him spoil you because he can. Stop fighting it.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just hadn’t been able to think of anything to get William, until the pie, so I’d suggested we not do a gift exchange. William had seemed to agree. I blushed again, remembering how William had then changed the topic with several lingering kisses that turned into a lot more. I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m not expecting anything other than a nice night at home with my boyfriend.”

“Don’t forget the pie!”

“Right. Of course. A quiet night and delicious pie.”

Beckett waggled his eyebrows. I’d never seen anyone, outside of a cartoon, waggle their eyebrows like Beckett.

“Pie we’re going to eat off of plates, with forks, like civilized people.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Cat. And call me tomorrow with all the messy details.”

“Hey, you’d better have details too,” I said while he produced a white cardboard cake box and carefully slid the pie into it.

We kissed goodbye, and I headed back into the restaurant, carrying my cake box tied with a shiny red satin ribbon. Asa stood and trailed right behind me, doing his best guard dog imitation.

T
hanks to Asa’s cutthroat driving, we arrived at William’s penthouse just a short time later. Asa rode up in the elevator with me, and when the door slid open, revealing William’s expansive foyer, he motioned for me to stand back while he secured the perimeter—or whatever it was those special ops guys did. As I waited, Laird bounded forward, barking excitedly. He was my real guard dog, and I still felt a wave of relief every time I saw him.

I really thought I’d lost Laird. When Minerva had called about the break-in my condo and told me that Laird was missing, my heart had stopped. Laird had been Jace’s dog, then our dog, and then one of the few things connected to Jace that I’d brought to Chicago when I moved from Santa Cruz almost a year ago. So much of my life in Santa Cruz was fading into hazy memory, but Laird was a living, breathing, barking reminder that it had all been real and that it had mattered. I’d been so relieved when a DePaul student had called and said Laird had followed her home from the library. She’d been up late studying, so she’d let him sleep at her place and then called first thing the next morning. I hadn’t cared about anything else in my condo. I could have replaced everything but Laird.

Laird had easily adjusted to life in the penthouse and his new “family.” Asa motioned for me to exit the elevator, and Laird’s nails clicked on the marble floor as he followed Asa and begged for attention. I set the cake box on a side table and grabbed Laird’s collar. “Settle down, boy.”

Asa gave me an appreciative look and said, “I’ll take Laird for a walk.”

When Laird heard
walk
, he barked again, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. “Thanks,” I said, scratching Laird behind the ears. The irony that William’s high-paid security experts had also proved to be expert dog walkers wasn’t lost on me. I didn’t mind walking Laird, but William had argued that he didn’t want me strolling around the Gold Coast alone. Rather than take a security member with me, it was easier just to let Asa—or George or Anthony—do the dog walking. And since in Laird’s estimation, nothing save table scraps beat a walk, my dog had a whole slew of new best friends.

After Asa pronounced the penthouse safe and left with Laird, I moved the pie to the kitchen, then headed to the master suite. I planned to take a long soak in a scented bubble bath before getting ready. Though we were planning a quiet night, that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a little excitement. Lingerie and Valentine’s Day went together like chocolate and more chocolate, and I had a sexy red ensemble to slip into. William was going to love it.

* * *

W
illiam arrived home just after seven o’clock. With his tie loosened and his hair adorably tousled, I felt the familiar urge to run my fingers through his thick, dark curls. Even after a full day of mastering the universe, his charcoal suit looked impeccable, as did the man wearing it.

I’d slipped into my racy new lingerie and pulled on a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and a cute black sequined top I’d bought at Zara a few years ago. Strappy black stilettos would have looked great, but we were staying in, so my feet were bare, showing off my newly pedicured red toenails.

We met in the living room and I went easily into his arms. I was greeted with, “There’s my beautiful girl,” as he pulled me tighter against him and slanted his mouth over mine.

He would have given me a quick kiss, but I didn’t pull away, allowing my lips to linger and my tongue to gently entwine with his as a promise of what was to come. My hands slid over his muscled chest and down his rock-hard biceps. He smelled delicious, as always, and looked like he’d come from a photo shoot for
GQ
. “You look good enough to eat,” I purred.

“You look pretty great yourself.” He gave my ass a quick pat and moved away. I waited for a
Happy Valentine’s Day
, but he was already leafing through his mail.

“What would you like to do for dinner?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

William shuffled an envelope to the back of the stack. “I already grabbed something,” he said. “I had a meeting and had to skip lunch.”

Okay
. We’d agreed on a quiet night, but I thought we’d at least have dinner together. Maybe I’d misunderstood. I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, and I said, “Great. Well, I have dessert then.”

“That’s nice.” He was still looking at the damn mail.

“I thought so.”

Something in my tone finally made him look up, and he frowned. “Dessert? On a Wednesday night? That’s a little odd. What’s going on?”

I blinked at him. Had he seriously forgotten what day it was? Here I was with pie and sexy lingerie, ready to celebrate our first Valentine’s Day together, and he thought it was just any other Wednesday. I put my hands on my hips. “It’s not
just
Wednesday,” I said icily. “It’s Valentine’s Day, remember?”

“Valentine’s Day? Are you sure?” But he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

He was totally messing with me. “William!”

He started laughing. “Of course I remember. Practically every woman in the building had flowers delivered. And I ran into more than a few guys who were freaking out about what to buy their wives or girlfriends.” He pulled me into his arms again, sliding his hands over my hips. “Even if I’d wanted to forget—which I didn’t—I would have been reminded.”

“Lucky for you we said no gifts.”

“Yes, lucky me.”

I grinned at him. “Though I might have a little something for you,” I teased. “Guess.”

“Oh, really?” His fingers made small circles on my hips, dipping lower to caress my ass. “A heart filled with chocolates?”

“No, but it is red.” I lifted a hand to my shirt and slowly undid a button to reveal a red bra strap. William’s eyes, now a smoky grey, followed the movement.

“My favorite color. A tie?”

I undid another button, revealing the lace. “No...”

His hands cupped my bottom, pulling me against him. “Silk boxers?”

“You’re getting closer.”

“And you’re taking way too long with those buttons.” He gripped the fabric in his hands and yanked it open. Buttons and a few sequins went flying, and I gasped with surprise and also a little bit of pleasure.

“That was silk.”

“I’ll buy you another,” he said as he buried his lips against my neck, trailing a line of kisses down to the V between my breasts. “Where did you get this?” He moved back to take me in with his hot gaze. My nipples hardened, and I knew he could see the effect he was having on me since the lace was sheer.

“Oh, just something I had in the back of my closet.” The truth was it had taken three separate shopping trips to find the perfect ensemble. The La Perla bra was made of delicate scarlet botanical lace. It was beautiful and more than a little risqué and it cupped my breasts to perfection.

“Like hell.” He flicked the buttons of my jeans open and slid them over my hips, then groaned. “Crotchless?”

The matching thong was as indecent as a $90 tiny piece of handmade, red, Italian lace meant to conceal nothing could be. The set was simply scorching and when I’d seen it and imagined William’s reaction to it, I’d had to have it. “You like?” I purred.

William’s hungry eyes traveled up and down the length of me. “Oh, I like. Very much,” he growled.

I kicked my jeans off, returned to his embrace and pressed against him. Our mouths met in a hot tangle of lips and tongues while his hands slid down my ass and then between my legs to cup my bare sex. His pelvis rocked into me, pressing the length of his now very hard cock against my exposed flesh. I moaned as he covered my aching nipples with his hot mouth. He swirled the taut points under the lace with his tongue until I was panting. Only then did he give me what I wanted, sucking a nipple into his mouth so that an electric current of pleasure rocked through me.