Sexual Games [The Heroes of Silver Springs 8] (Siren Publishing Classic) (19 page)

She stifled her laughter but couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips. It was entertaining to watch her try, though.

She gave him a regal nod. “My apologies, Chef Jackson.”

“Apologies accepted.” He turned to the breadbox where he had stashed the loaf he had brought and took out four slices. “I don’t need more light. The candles are providing enough. I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t doubt that. I often wondered why you don’t open your own restaurant. You know, like a business venture on the side, a place where you can go to cook for people when the bureau isn’t demanding all of your time.”

Jackson shrugged as he scraped the chopped vegetables from the plate into the egg skillet. “I’ve thought about it. Maybe it will be something I do when I retire.”

“Make the whole Chef Jackson thing for real, huh?”

“It’s real enough tonight.”

That comment brought the uncomfortable silence back. Last night had definitely changed things between them. They had done this before, him cooking for her in her own kitchen, his, or even Cameron’s, while she sat at the table and they talked. Despite the sexual tension that had grown thicker between them over the years, they had always managed to keep the solidity of their friendship, the close bond that had built long before adult hormones and emotions had taken over.

He firmly believed the best, long-lasting relationships were built first on friendships. They would get it back. He had only to get her through her fears.

“I stopped by my apartment before I came over tonight.” He took the steaks from the pan as he talked and placed them on two of the paper plates he had found in the cabinet. “You know what I’m buying you for Christmas?”

“Probably the same thing you’ve been threatening to get me for a decade.”

“Glass serving dishes,” they said at the same time.

Jackson didn’t look at her, but he heard the smile in her voice. “It’s the thought that counts, of course, but stock in whichever company owns Dixie would be a more useful gift for me. Glass dishes are too much trouble. Use a paper plate or a plastic cup and toss it in the trash when you’re done. Cleanup finished. If you wanted glass dishes for tonight you should have brought them with you like you did everything else. You just said you stopped by your apartment before coming over.”

“I did.” Jackson nodded as he slid the omelets onto the plates with the steaks. “I was about to tell you that my temporary roommates were still awake. I didn’t expect that after the grueling day I’m sure they had.”

“Oh, yeah. Today was their first day of the firefighter challenge. How did they do?”

“Terri won the women’s single event.”

“No shit! That’s awesome. I bet she was ecstatic.”

“She was funny as hell.” He chuckled, remembering the jig she had done around his living room while she pumped her fist in the air and chanted, “Go, Terri. Go, Terri.” “She’s got this spunk that doesn’t quit. I haven’t spent much time with her since they got here, but it’s been enough to see the woman’s energy is off the charts.”

“What about the guy?” Mallory asked as Jackson set the plates on the table. “Thaddeus, isn’t it? Poor guy. What a name. I’m guessing it’s the whole carry-down-the-male-name-in-the-family-thing because I know his father is a Thaddeus, too, but jeez, could you imagine being stuck with a name like that?”

“Jason said he got the middle name, too. Leopold, a nice, sturdy, distinguished name.” Jackson poured two glasses of milk, snagged two forks and knives from the drawer, and returned to the table. At least the woman had real utensils to eat and cook with. “He’s doing a pretty good job and making it known in his own way. He got third in the men’s single event.”

“Impressive.” Mallory picked up her fork and dug into her omelet. She took the first bite, chewed it slowly, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “Sweet heaven,” she moaned. “Talk about impressive. If I knew I would be coming home to this, I would never stay out so late.”

That can be easily arranged.

Jackson bit into his steak and the words, saying instead, “Then Chef Jackson’s is a hit?”

“Are you kidding?” Mallory cut off a bite of steak, closing her eyes once again as she chewed.

The woman was sinfully sexy, even when she ate, and Jackson was so riveted watching her that he momentarily forgot his own food.

“I think I’m in love.” Her eyes flew opened and her gaze slammed into his. Shock, horror, and self-damnation battled for paramount emotion in her eyes.

I know you are.

Now, if he could only get her to admit it about more than a piece of steak.

“There’s nothing more satisfying to a cook than seeing the person he cooked for enjoy it.”

Gratitude that he didn’t comment on her statement flickered in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to her plate.

“There’s also nothing more embarrassing to a cook than to realize he forgot part of the meal.” He got to his feet and quickly toasted the four slices of bread he had set aside in the midst of preparing the rest of the meal.

Mallory smiled up at him as he put her toast on the side of her plate and returned to his seat. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You would have. Unless you’ve gone on a diet I don’t know about, I’m expecting what is left of that steak and omelet to be polished off in the next thirty seconds.”

“Diet?” She tapped her lips with the handle of her fork and looked at the ceiling. “That word doesn’t compute.” She shrugged and shoved the last bit of her omelet into her mouth. “I like to eat. And, you should know by now, if you’re expecting me to shy off from that because I’m doing it in front of a man, it’s not going to happen.”

Jackson chuckled. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“I got the hard drive of the Stardust computer copied tonight.”

Tiny thorns of anxiety poked Jackson in the gut. He ignored them as he always did when it came to Mallory. Knowing she was one of the best damn agents in the bureau helped, but it never obliterated his concern for her.

“I thought Tarantino was supposed to do that.”

“It was easier for me to get to it. His cover is that of a customer, not an employee. If he had been spotted in the back, he would have had a lot more explaining to do. As it was, I got caught leaving the office.”

Jackson’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “Who saw you?”

“A couple of the strippers. I played it off, made up a line about needing to talk to Betty, the club manager who I already knew had left for a while. It was no big deal.”

“We’ll take the USB to Mason in the morning.” Mason Sharp was the bureau’s self-proclaimed geek and tech-analyst genius. “If there is anything on it to find, he’ll be the one to see it.”

“You were wrong, you know? It took me more than thirty seconds to finish, and if I eat the last bite of that toast I’m going to pop.”

“Then finish your milk while I clean up.”

“Uh-uh, you cooked. I’ll clean. Even on Chef Jackson’s scarce budget, they have to be able to afford someone to do the dishes.” She stacked their plates, downed the rest of her milk, put her plastic cup on top, and gathered their silverware in her other hand.

Jackson watched, both amazed and amused, as the plates and cups fell into the trashcan and the silverware went into the dishwasher. A quick rinse to the pans and utensils he had used to cook with, and they followed the silverware.

Mallory closed the dishwasher and dusted her hands as she turned to face him, a wide grin spreading her luscious lips. “See there, so much easier. Cleaning is done in less than a minute.”

Jackson chuckled as he got to his feet and walked to her. “And I wonder why I love you.”

She froze. It was astonishing to watch. Jackson had never seen a body go as completely still as hers did in that moment. Nothing about her moved, not a muscle, not even her chest to take a breath. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he didn’t regret the slip. He did love her. He had been in love with her for years. He simply never told her until now.

“Get used to hearing it, Mal. You don’t have to say it back. I don’t expect you to, not yet.” He cupped the side of her face and stared down at her, letting her see the truth of his words and the depth of them in his eyes. “When you took that tie off last night, you released everything I’ve been holding back. I can’t pull it back in now. I won’t.”

“Jackson, I—”

“Am going to give me dessert now.” He cut off her argument as he had done when she walked in the door, dipped his head, and brushed his lips to the tip of her nose. Confessing he loved her had apparently been a good thing. Her being this close to speechlessness would make it easier to continue his game.

“At Chef Jackson’s dessert is served by the guests to the cook.” He let his hand fall from her face, found the buttons of her shirt, and freed them slowly, one by one. She averted her gaze, bowing her head. He hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face. “Look at me. Last night was yours. Tonight is mine. My game. My rules.”

He continued to unbutton the shirt until it fell open, knowing how difficult it had to be for her to look at him right now. She couldn’t hide from what he had said to her, couldn’t hide from the turmoil it made her feel, not with him being this close to her, with him touching her. It was exactly what he wanted.

“Don’t think, Mal.” He pushed the shirt from her shoulders and let it fall in a pool of material at her feet. “Listen, react, feel.”

He stepped back a fraction, putting just enough room between them so he could see her. The flickering candlelight danced over her flesh, providing him just enough light to see every delectable inch of her body. She hadn’t put on panties. His cock pulsed at the realization. They had sat through dinner making idle conversation, and the whole time she had been across from him wearing absolutely nothing but his shirt.

“I can’t do this, Jackson.”

Her whispered words, the conflict and pain in them, sliced at his heart. He pulled his gaze back up, praying he wouldn’t find tears in her eyes. The single tear last night had been bad enough. Watching her cry now would destroy him.

He didn’t see any tears, though.
Thank God.
But he had a feeling they weren’t too far away. Tough-as-nails Mallory could only be strong for so long before she would break, and what he was doing to her tonight had to be hitting her at the weakest possible level.

“Yes, you can,” he said soothingly. “It’s sex. It’s you. It’s me. It’s what we’ve been dancing around for years, what we took the first steps in exploring last night.”

“It’s not just sex anymore.” Her voice broke, and she took a ragged breath, reining herself in.

No, it wasn’t, and the fact that she realized that, that she put voice to it, told him he was one step closer to his ultimate goal.

“Let yourself go, Mal. Touch yourself for me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about watching you pleasure yourself.”

She angled her head and drew her eyebrows together. “Really?”

His lips twitched. “Really.”

She took another ragged breath, let it out slowly, and lifted her hands. She started at her chest, flattening her hands above her breasts, and dragging them down. She cupped her ample breasts in her palms, ran her thumbs over her hardened nipples, and—
Oh holy Jesus
—the sight sent whips of lust slashing at his tortured cock and balls.

“Is that what you’ve fantasized about?” She caught her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, rolled the beaded points then pinched, her head falling back as she moaned from the pleasure she gave herself.

“Christ, yes.” It was better because this was reality.

“How about this?” One hand moved from her breast to glide down her abdomen, her stomach, then disappeared between her legs.

Entranced, Jackson’s gaze, along with every ounce of lust inside him, followed her hand. She parted her legs slowly and turned her hips slightly toward the cabinets on her right. Balancing her weight on her left foot, she raised her right to rest on the handle of the nearby cabinet, opening her pussy to his view and her questing fingers.

“Damn, that’s amazing.” He tore his gaze away long enough to glance up. Her other hand had stayed on her breast where she continued to massage and toy with her nipple. Her gaze was fixated on him. Shadows of her conflicting emotions remained in her heavy-lidded eyes, but they sparked with the vixen challenge he had seen in them all too often.

How far would he take this? How far did he want her to go? He saw those questions in her gaze even as her lips formed an
O
of pleasure that had his attention plummeting to her hand once more. She used her index and ring finger to part her pussy lips, massaging her clit with her middle finger until the bud became engorged and utterly torturous to his throbbing cock.

Jackson nearly came right then and there, without so much as a touch to his own body from her, his dick still safely enclosed in his jeans. Watching her drove him that close to the edge. He found himself fighting to think about details at the bureau, about cooking, about anything that would divert his mind and body from blowing his wad in his jeans.

“Mmm, so that’s what you’ve really fantasized about.” A teasing lilt added a wicked tone to her voice, telling him she was truly enjoying herself now. Getting off on driving him to the brink of insanity was more like it.