His Just Desserts (5 page)

Moving through the apartment, he double-checked the amount of cash he had in his wallet. He planned on paying for their supplies this afternoon. After all, the meal was for his benefit. “Coming.” He hollered when the knocking grew louder. Checking his appearance in the hall mirror, he straightened his polo shirt. He hoped he at least looked presentable, but it didn’t matter, because the second he opened the door, Isaiah jerked him into his arms and plastered his mouth against Sean’s.

He gasped, the sound muffled as his lover’s tongue swiped over the tender flesh of his inner lip and into his mouth. Savoring the sweet flavor mixed with the slightest savory hint of beef, he groaned. While their tongues dueled for supremacy, Isaiah snaked one arm around his waist. Curling his fingers around a thick shoulder, Sean tried to press closer to him. The soft brush of his baby’s goatee against his face while they kissed curled his toes.

When the need for air finally overrode their passion, he tore his mouth away, his breathing rough. “Wow.”

Isaiah gave him a sensual smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.” He lifted Sean’s hand from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. His eyes narrowed, he licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “What
exactly
have you been doing?”

Sean’s eyes darted to the left; his cheeks warmed. He was a grown man. If he wanted to jack off, he would. But he wasn’t about to admit it.
Even if the man in front of me was my inspiration
. He took a step back. “I…nothing. Just waited for you to come over.”

Isaiah narrowed his gaze and followed, crowding him against the wall. “It may have been several years, but I’d remember that scent, that taste, anywhere.” He braced his arms on either side of Sean. Leaning in, he nuzzled his ear. “You’ve been a naughty little lawyer, haven’t you, Counselor?” He breathed the words against the sensitive lobe.

With his head spinning, his lust returned like it’d never been gone. His cock rose to press against his zipper, until there would be a permanent imprint of its teeth on the underside of his dick. “Naughty depends upon the user’s definition. To most men, it’s considered a natural urge. To be naughty, I’d have had to do something wrong…and there’s nothing wrong with what I did.”

“Masturbating? Jacking off? Rubbing one off?” Isaiah nipped his ear. “You can’t say it, can you?” His palm cupped Sean’s hip. He reached around to lightly tap his ass.

His cheeks clenched, then relaxed. A groan built in his throat. While he didn’t want hardcore discipline, a little bit—especially from this man—drove him wild with lust.

“Yes, I can.” His breath came out in a rush when Isaiah canted his hips forward just enough that the solid impression of his cock registered when their groins rubbed together. If his lover hadn’t then pulled away, he would’ve begged to be fucked and screw the shopping. “I just choose not to.”

“Say it once for me, and I’ll forgo the spanking you earned for lying.”

His heart leapt. “You think I’m going to let you spank me?”

A slow lifting of Isaiah’s lips showed his pearly whites. “Oh, I think you’d beg me for it if the right opportunity arose. But we don’t have time just now. Not if we’re going to get to the market before I have to return to the restaurant for the dinner service.” He squeezed Sean’s hip. “So either give me what I want, or we’ll forgo our trip so I can warm your ass, and you’ll be serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to your guests tomorrow.”

He wavered, his body warring with what logic demanded. When Isaiah crossed his arms over his chest, Sean blurted out, “Fine, I jacked off before you got here. Happy?”

Stepping close once more, Isaiah rubbed his finger across one of his cheekbones. “Not particularly, but it will do.” He turned to the door and grabbed Sean’s umbrella. “Just in case the storm they predicted rolls in.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Not that I wouldn’t love to see you wet.”

Sean groaned, but followed temptation out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. In the elevator heading to the main floor, Isaiah squeezed his ass through the back pocket of his jeans. Now he saw why his baby had wanted him to wear them. To remind him of a time when he’d worn faded, hand-me-down jeans and they’d walked this way. The familiar touch made him hopeful. At least until the man spoke again.

“And for your information, Counselor, jerking that luscious cock without me there
is
naughty. Next time, wait for me.”

Before he could do more than gape, the elevator doors slid open. While his chef may have been reliving a minor detail of their past, the man walking across the foyer to the door was not the same boy he’d left behind. The young Isaiah never would’ve dreamed of making such demands.

Examining the cut of pork for the
vep
ř
o-knedlo-zelo
, Isaiah ignored the put-out sigh from behind him. His dallying had to be stretching Sean’s patience, but he had to make their little outing last. If he rushed through and they finished with time before his dinner service started, he’d bend his man over the nearest flat surface and fuck him until they both screamed. Despite their past, his counselor deserved more than a rushed encounter. Even if his lover had changed, he wanted the first time he sank inside Sean to be more than a quickie. He needed to savor what would be an once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Aw, come on. One piece of meat is just as good as the next.” Sean shuffled forward to drum his fingers on the glass meat case. Behind the counter, Stanislaus Los, the butcher and owner of Los’s Meats grumbled under his breath about impatient assholes.

“Ignore him, Stan. He’s barely able to boil water.” Taking the offending hand in his, Isaiah stopped the tapping noise. “One cut of meat isn’t the same as another, Counselor. I need a very good shoulder cut to make this roasted pork dish. Now, hush, unless you want to try picking out the cabbage at our next stop?”

Sean muttered something under his breath then pulled his hand free. “Of course not. I’ll bow to your superior culinary skill, Isaiah.” He shifted a bit. “If you don’t need me right this moment, I’ll go out to the car?”

Lifting an eyebrow, Isaiah shook his head. “No. You agreed to this, and you will uphold your end. Unless you weren’t serious about proving your point?”

When Sean stiffened, he waited. Pricking the other man’s pride would stop his retreat. “Of course I’m serious. I just feel a bit out of my element in here. Christ, I don’t know the difference between a shoulder roast and a rump roast.” He cracked his knuckles, a sure sign of his discomfort.

“Well, other than their coming from the opposite end of the pig, I don’t expect you to know the difference.” Isaiah wrapped an arm around him to pull him close, unconcerned about Stan or the other customers milling about the butcher shop. Comfortable in his own sexuality, Isaiah didn’t care if others didn’t like it. They could go screw themselves. “It’s enough you’re here with me. You’re showing an effort.”

“Okay, baby, I’ll remember that. What do you say to stopping for a cone after we get done? My treat.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to buy me anything. Just remember how you feel right now when you and your partners drone on and on about your casework and all that legal crap tomorrow night.”

Sean nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “Of course, I will. And I’m not bribing you. I’ve been craving a scoop of vanilla bean in the worst way since we passed the ice cream shop two blocks over.”

He pulled away. “Well then, my dessert for tomorrow night will hit all the right spots.”

Right on cue, his counselor’s stomach rumbled, and Sean licked his lips. His expression turned greedy. “Bananas Foster?”

“Perhaps.” He gave him a mock glare. “It depends upon how good you are for the rest of the trip. If not, I’ll make an apple and prune gateau.”

“I’ll be good.” He leaned in and nuzzled Isaiah’s ear. “I haven’t had Bananas Foster since the last time you made it for me.”

Isaiah drew back to look up at him. “You’re kidding me? The last time I made it for you was—”

“The night I got accepted into to the University of Iowa.” Sean sighed. “I lost my appetite for it after that. Not surprising, considering what happened.”

It had been the same night the other man had asked him to come to him in Iowa City after he graduated the following spring. He’d refused, wanting to pursue a career in the culinary arts. Even back then he’d dreamed of going to a Cordon Bleu certified school and the U of I hadn’t offered the classes he wanted. They’d had a terrible fight, and the next morning when he’d woke up, Sean had left, his closet empty except for a shoebox full of cards and other mementos which he’d given him. At first, he’d been devastated that his first love had walked away with such ease. But obviously not as easily as he’d thought, if Sean had given up one of his favorite desserts.

“Well then, I’d say it’s past time for it.” He turned back toward the counter. “We’ll take the roast third from the back, Stan. It’ll cook up good, I think, after I marinate it overnight with a rub of some ground pepper, caraway seeds, and my special house blend.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me what you put in that rub.” Stan ripped off a piece of white butcher paper. Grabbing the requested chunk of meat with a sheet of plastic wrap, his hands were a flurry of motion. He wrapped up Isaiah’s choice and taped it shut with white tape. Setting it up on the counter, he grinned. “The wife absolutely loves it. In fact, we’re almost out of it.”

Taking the package, Isaiah smiled. “Well you know where to find me. We always have a surplus, since the boss lady decided she wanted to sell the blend on the side to customers. I’ll set aside a quart bag of it for you.”

***

Holding the door of Nonlia’s open for Isaiah, Sean resisted the temptation to follow him inside despite his promise to wait outside. And with the weather being mild, he didn’t mind enough to ruin their outing by throwing a fit. He’d enjoyed the afternoon. If someone from work had asked him a few weeks ago if he’d have willingly gone grocery shopping with his lover in charge, he’d have laughed his ass off.
Not just because I catered to another man’s request but because of sheer mundaneness of going to the market
. But now, after spending time with his chef, he could only wonder what it would be like to give up control to Isaiah on a regular basis. He didn’t want a twenty-four/seven power exchange, but the ability to relax and just be himself was refreshing.
Speaking of refreshing
. He inhaled when a delicious scent wafted out the open door. His mouth watered.

“Something smells delicious.”

“It’s Ros. He’s baking up a storm.” Isaiah handed him a piece of paper and a Ziploc full of ground spices. “Rub half a cup of this blend over the surface. Then cover it with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. It’s on this paper along with everything else you need to do before I get there. Don’t lose it.”

“Got it.” He tucked the bag into his pocket for safekeeping. “So, do you think you might convince him to bake something extra for tomorrow?”

“Doubtful. Ros is already behind because of a screw-up with the vendor. I don’t know if he’ll have time or not. ” Isaiah gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Maybe if I talk to him, make it worth his while, I might be able to convince him.” He headed to the doorway.

“I don’t think so.” Isaiah’s touch sent shards of sensations from his chest to his groin.

Looking down at the dark hand against his blue polo shirt, he wanted nothing more than to use it as leverage—to pull the man into his arms. But he smothered the urge, reminding himself this was Isaiah’s show. “Baby?” The endearment came out a bit ragged.

“You’re not going to do that. Ros will demand more than you can pay for a few rolls. Besides, don’t you have that list of things to do tonight? Like rubbing the roast?” Isaiah asked, his tone dark.

Their gazes met. The determination and lust in Isaiah’s eyes ricocheted through him. Now wasn’t the time. “Ahh…yes?” He patted his back pocket, feeling the crinkle of paper against his ass. “Instructions are right here.” He licked his lips as the scent of fresh baked bread reached his nose once more. “If I promise to be good and go home will you see about bringing some of Ros’s rolls for dinner tomorrow?”

Isaiah stepped closer until mere centimeters separated them. Running his palm over Sean’s shoulder, he cupped the back of his neck and drew his head down close enough he could feel the other man’s breath against his lips.

“If you’re a good boy and go home now, I’ll do more than bring rolls over. I’ll bring over something…” Isaiah licked his lower lip. “About eight inches long…two inches around….”

Sean’s breath caught in his throat, his imagination going wild.

“It’ll have a nice curve in the middle of it.” Isaiah pulled back when Sean moaned and smiled. “And we’ll need two of them.”

“Two?” Sean swayed on his feet, the idea of his lover using a dildo on him while he sucked the man’s cock filling his head.

Stepping closer Isaiah, grabbed his forearms. “I’m talking about bananas, Counselor.” He trailed his fingers up his arm. “But somehow I don’t think that’s where your mind went. So spill.” He brushed a thumb over Sean’s lower lip.

“I….” He flushed a bit but held his ground. He was a grown man, not the some teenage boy who found it hard to talk around his crush. Sean wrapped his lawyer persona around him “Let’s just say it wasn’t bananas and leave it at that, hmmm?”

His chef arched a brow at him. “I would if it you hadn’t told me I had control of our outing.”

He grinned. “But it’s over now, so those rules don’t apply.”

Isaiah fisted the neckline of his shirt. The suddenness of it jerked Sean off balance and into his arms.

“Whoa.” Catching Isaiah’s shoulders to keep from knocking the smaller man down, Sean yelped when a palm squeezed his ass.

“Until you walk away, our rules still apply.” Isaiah’s eyes narrowed. “So either you ’fess up and tell me what caused you to turn that particular shade of red, or I’m going to do more than grope your ass.” His dark eyes narrowed. “And I won’t care who sees me doing it, Counselor.”