Culinary Delight (3 page)

Rachel squealed. “She’ll do it!”

“Rach!”

“You were just saying you felt bad. Well, you can actually do something about it.” She looked at me expectantly, expecting me to respond the way someone with a heart would.

I nibbled my lip. Rico had gone strangely silent. Not even a cocky glare from him. “Don’t you have family, aunts, mothers, anyone who could teach you?”

“
Aside from Carlita, they’re all back on the island,” Rico stated. Was it me or did he actually soften?

“Our
abuela
passed on her recipes, but my sister can’t cook and Rico claims to be a visual learner. I’d secured someone else to help, but she flaked. I can’t help. I can’t even boil water.” His brows creased.

“And you chose to open a restaurant why?” I teased.

“Pride, family heritage, a lot of reasons that don’t matter if I lose it all.”

I understood all too well how he felt. I lost nearly everything in the divorce and he was the one who
had broken our vows and cheated.

I checked my phone. It was only half past seven. “If he promises not to be a smart ass, I’ll teach him. It’s early still so I could teach him these dishes tonight if you want.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Carlos perked up, relaxing for the first time all evening.

“Sorry, Mol, but I’ve got to get home. I could call Rog and see if he could come get you when you’re done though.”

“I’ve got her. She is helping my cuz.” A little of his arrogance returned, as did my desire to taste him.

This was going to be a long night.

“Thanks, Rach. Are we still on for Saturday?”

“Oh yeah. I’m kicking the boys out by noon. I’ll buy the wine after work Friday. Bring some extra dough if you can. The boys killed my pizza last time before I could finish it.”

“I think I can handle that.” Doubling dough recipes were easy, it was cooking in a hot kitchen with a sizzling Puerto Rican that I was a tad worried about.

“Let’s go,
gringa.
”

I took a deep, sharp breath, blowing out my frustration. “I’m the one helping you. Don’t be rude. Also, drop the
gringa
. I know it’s an insult.”

His lips mashed together. Determination sparked in his depths. Apparently I’d just waved a red flag in front of a bull.

He bulldozed me out of the booth. Instead of falling to the floor, his arms went around me, catching me. He set me down in front of him, his arms staying at my waist.

My heart sped up, excitement furling in my womb. His hard against my soft felt more exquisite than I imagined.

“I said let’s go.” He darn near growled at me.

My
jaw slackened in shock. I looked to Rachel and Carlos. They immediately faced each other.

“So, Carlos, you know, I’m in marketing. I could help you re-brand the restaurant. Maybe you could even do a grand re-opening event to drum up business again once Rico learns everything.”

“I would like that.”

“Traitors,” I grumbled.

“Move it, Blondie.” He molded his hands to my ass and shoved me forward.

My eyes widened. “Hey! I’ll move when I damn well feel like it.”

“That I did just to cop a feel.” He winked, strolling past me with all the self-importance of a King. He lacked the royal finances of one though.

I glared as I sped up to him. I was going to need
a hard drink and a massage when I was done with him. Part of what drove me crazy was that I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know if he was actually interested in me or just ruffling my feathers for his own entertainment.

Two
hours later I was ready to snap his neck. He’d challenged me on nearly every step. Worse, I didn’t even have Carlos or Rachel to talk me off the ledge. It probably wasn’t one of my most brilliant whims, being alone with a strange, infuriating male; but, as much as he drove me nuts, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He’d proven protective, backing me up from splattering oil, carrying all the heavy stuff, ensuring I didn’t have to reach for anything. I caught glimpses of a caring person beyond his hard outer shell, but his walls were structurally sound.

The circumstances were so bizarre. It was such an odd situation, a one-in-never story. If Carlos was able to save his restaurant, then I guess it would be worth it. Rachel had given him a lot of ideas. He was like a kid on Christmas,
he was too excited to wait, full of newfound enthusiasm. As soon as I assured him I would be okay with Rico alone, he rushed out. He mumbled something about wanting to use a desktop computer to look stuff up rather than his laptop.

“Sit,” Rico ordered. His hands went to my waist. He helped hoist me up onto the counter. His eyes blazed, full of
firepower as always. His lips were slightly curled at the edges. His hands lingered on me. Slowly they drifted down to grip my hips before he broke away.

He served up a plate. He grabbed a fork and turned to me. “You didn’t eat earlier. Here.” He pushed the plate in my direction.

“It looks better than the last two batches.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter beside me. “Eat, Blondie.”

I took a bite of his rice. I smiled approvingly. “Finally. Good job, Rican.”

His gaze tapered. “Rico.”

“You call me a descriptor so I can call you one too; or are you for inequality in the twenty-first century?” I stared pointedly at him.

“I’m for taking you over my knee.” His eyes darkened, like the beginnings of a storm
were brewing in his depths.

“I’m for you cleaning so I can get home.” So I could get home and get off. I was wound so tight it hurt. My panties were soaked. He seemed unaffected, which was damaging my confidence a little more with every minute that ticked by.

He considered me for a long minute. “Eat.” He shoved away and busied himself putting things away and cleaning up.

I watched him. Admittedly, he was thorough. He did a good job of returning the kitchen to order. He was solemn, focused as he went through the motions. I
learned there was nothing sexier than a domestic hottie. My resolve lowered a bit. Somehow, I knew he would do this at home for the woman he was with too. Hm. Looked like the cocky shell hid a man most women would love, if they had the patience to get beyond his defenses. There really were two sides to every coin.

He took the empty plate from me. I studied his biceps, flexing as he scrubbed the dishes by hand.

“Do you miss Puerto Rico?”

He glanced back at me. “Sometimes. It’s hot as hell there with no A/C, but it’s got a pulse you won’t find anywhere else.”

I heard the affection in his tone. “How long have you lived here?”

“On and off for about seven years.”

“Your English is good,” I offered. He had just enough of an accent to get the accent junkies going, but not enough to greatly alter the way he annunciated his English words.

He chuckled softly. “A lot of people on the island speak English.”

He dried the dishes and put them away. “Let’s go, Blondie.” He caught me as I leapt down from the counter. To my surprise, he pressed my back against it; he crowded me.

I peered up at him
, straight into those dark depths. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to break away.

His brows were heavily creased. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. With a sigh, he took a step back. “Grab your stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes,
papá.
”

I squealed when he jerked me against him. My eyes widened, my pussy slicked at the feel of his erection against my lower stomach.

His eyes pierced me, silently commanding me, overpowering me, without a single word from him.

I swallowed my plea, the cry my body wanted me to give.
Every bit of his potency fed my desire for him, for more than merely staring into his midnight eyes.

“Next time you call me
papá
you’ll be over me knee. Got me?”

I found myself nodding with quick, jerky motions.

Satisfaction curled his lips. “Good.” He released me with a smack to my ass.

I cut my eyes at him. “That’s my asset, not yours.”

He just stared at me, unapologetic. “For now.”

I snickered. “Whatever.” I headed for the table
in the front of the house. I grabbed my purse and phone, taking the time to shoot a quick text to Rachel, letting her know that I was leaving now.

She replied immediately with ‘Anything not on the menu happen tonight?’

I shook my head in dismay. She wanted me to be happy, but she was a bit eager. ‘No.’

‘Damn. I was so sure he was into you.’

My knee jerk reaction was to confirm he wasn’t, but men didn’t get hard-ons for no reason. Although, maybe he was thinking about someone else.

‘I’ll let you know later.’

‘Ok. Ttyl.’

I looked up to find Rico waiting for me by the kitchen.

“Thought you were in a rush,” he teased.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Women can be unpredictable.” I dropped my phone in my purse and closed the distance between us.

He snatched me, hauling me against him. “So can men.”

He captured my lips. He was a myriad of contradictions. He was aggressive and gentle, hard yet soft. His tongue swept past my lips, tasting and teasing. His hands snaked down my body, feeling every single curve.

After the initial shock, I melted into him, surrendered to his command of my mouth. I let him blindly lead me into the kitchen. He stole my purse and tossed it away.

My body sung for him. Everywhere his hands roamed
tensed then tingled. I found myself leaning into him, clutching his shirt as though it were a lifeline.

He broke away panting. “Tell me no right now if you don’t want this
because I won’t stop in a minute.” He clenched his jaw. His nostrils flared with each exhale.

You need a steady bedmate.
Rachel’s words echoed in my mind. It would be nice to let go, but I would have to face him again. If things didn’t work out, I could never comfortably be in this restaurant.

Crap.
I was right back in the same cycle. I wanted strings attached, even without knowing him.

“What happened to your fire, Blondie?”

“I don’t do one-nighters.” I couldn’t change who I was and what I wanted at the core, no matter how great it sounded.

“Who said I wanted one night?”

“You didn’t say you wanted more.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“You don’t know me,” I countered.

“I know enough.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I go home
con cajones azul
.”

“How will that affect your attitude tomorrow?”

“I’ll be twice the
pendejo
I was today.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I quirked a brow.

“I’m liable to spank you for any reason then.” His gaze never wavered.

“I don’t do spankings.”

“Then don’t make me give you one.”

“Rico.” I searched his eyes.

“Yeah, Blondie?” For one moment, he dropped his walls.

“I hope you don’t mind cleaning again.”

His eyes flashed with intensity, like streaks of lightning cracking in the sky. “Strip. Now.”

A chill chased down my spine, arousing my nipples fully. My pussy clenched, responding like a needy wanton under his command. “You too.”

He crossed his arms, stepping back. “Ladies first.” It was a power move. He was taking the top rank.

I wanted to hesitate. The old me would have. It was the way he challenged me.
He fed my competitiveness, my desire to show him up. He pushed me the way no one else had.

I slid my shoes off. I tossed my clothing at him one by one until I stood naked before him in all my imperfect glory.

He looked me up and down. “You trust me,” he stated.

He set my clothes on the counter. Reaching out one hand, he brushed his knuckles over one nipple, causing it to tighten
painfully. My breasts swelled, involuntarily leaning into his touch. “Remember that. Your gut says you can trust me.” He claimed my lips.

I felt exposed, vulnerable against his clothes. The material abraded my flesh, making me hyperaware of my need.

His hand traveled over my stomach, past the strip of curls to my pussy. A single digit teased my clit before feeling my wetness. He groaned. “Fuck, Blondie.” He abruptly bent and tossed me over his shoulder.

I admit, I got a cheap thrill out of the fact that he could actually lift me. I shrieked as the cold of the stainless steel registered on my back.

“Don’t worry. I’m about to turn up the heat.”

“You bet-” I gasped as his mouth closed over one
turgid peak. He lapped at my tight bud. Pleasure feathered around his mouth, responding beautifully to his skilled tongue. One hand teased my nipple; the other traced my folds. He released my breast with a plop. “I’m vein, Blondie. I want to hear you scream my name.”