Daringly Delicious Page 4
“Well, they do go together.” Tish laughed. “And gourmet chocolate is serious business. From the way it’s grown to how it’s prepared. There’s more to my job than dipping strawberries in fondue. It’s fun, but it takes a lot of research to find the right chocolate for my truffles.” She knew she babbled—but she did find comfort in discussing a favorite topic, and Vinnie seemed interested enough not to beg an excuse to leave.
“You have it down to a science, don’t you?” he teased. “I’ll bet I’d have paid more attention in chemistry if you taught it.”
“Me, too. I about flunked it myself.”
“What about Home Ec?”
“Never took it, if you can believe that.”
Vinnie raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze trained on her as he brought the dipped end of the spoon to his lips. He held it out far enough that Tish could see the tip of his tongue stroke upward along the concave curve of the spoon and lap up a small trail of the ganache. He moved so simply, so sensually, and inspired a quick fantasy Tish would take with her to bed tonight when she brought her battery-operated friend out for another visit.
“This is awesome,” Vinnie said after smacking a thin string of chocolate from the corner of his lip. “I’ll buy all the truffles now. How much you planning to raise for the school?”
The comment bemused Tish. “They want to update their library equipment. Digital cameras, new laptops.” “I have one of each. I’ll trade,” Vinnie joked and waved the spoon. “This is great, really.”
Tish waved a finger. “I should try it myself first. It has to past the final taste test before it goes on the truffles.” “Okay, here you go.”
Instead of handing back the spoon, however, Vinnie slashed one pec with a streak of chocolate.
Chapter Six
Come on , he urged her silently. Have a taste. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, for he normally didn’t act so forward with women. One look at Tish, glowing with the passion of her life’s work, and those gorgeous breasts swelling under her blouse, and something snapped. Snapped, inflated, surged, whatever. He ached so damn badly for her right now, a mere kiss and request for a date would not appease him.
She looked as though she had gone dry. Her mouth opened and no sound released. The space between them turned suddenly arid and still. If not for the blood pounding in his head, he could swear her heart beat just as loudly.
Yet, it worked. Tish dared a step closer and he helped close the gap by leaning forward. The first touch of her finger against the clumped end of chocolate on his skin sizzled and set off every nerve ending in his body. Imagine what a kiss could do!
She slid her finger across the trail, smearing the chocolate deeper along his chest. “Looks like you spilled…some,” she faltered, holding up the covered digit. Vinnie cuffed her wrist and guided the finger to his mouth, taking in the taste of ganache and sweet lavender. His gaze trained on hers, he rolled his tongue around her finger for a few seconds, then released it and her wrist to lean back for her reaction. Stunned, but not affronted, she smiled back at him. He relaxed.
“Would you like some more?” she asked, and eased backward for the stove. To his amazement, she turned off the bubbling pot and grabbed the bowl of dark ganache, all without turning once for guidance.
“You really know your way around a kitchen.” Inwardly he cringed at the remark and hoped it hadn’t sounded too chauvinistic.
“Among other rooms, yes.” She winked. Quite a saucy retort. Vinnie felt glad to have made a move.
Tish dipped that same finger in the bowl and scraped some thickening chocolate from the surface. Reaching up to his face, she smudged his lips with one broad stroke. “Have a taste.”
“You, too,” he murmured, and pulled her roughly closer for a kiss. Their parted lips met in a crush of chocolate and gasping desire. Vinnie savored the combination of chocolate and Tish’s unique flavor as his tongue explored softer depths, guiding her gently into a rhythm that completed with his arms drawing around her waist. Somewhere in the haze he heard the clink of glass against wood. Nothing could distract her from her chocolate—without paying absolute attention, she’d managed to set the bowl safely down on the butcher’s block.
He kept his eyes opened and trained on her. Her lids closed and fluttered, as though signaling her becoming lost in their kiss. She seemed to relax and melt into him, and her increasing pleasure showed in the softening lines on her forehead and cheeks. He brushed his thigh against hers, eager to explore more exciting parts of her body.
“Now that I like,” he said after breaking free. He reached behind to dip two fingers into the bowl, and beckoned with the sweetness. “Let’s try something more exotic,” he added, and reached for the top button of her blouse.
To his dismay, she slapped both hands over her throat. “What are you doing?” Her face registered her sudden worry.
“Relax. I just want to taste more of you.” He eased one hand away, but not without some effort. Tish cast her gaze away from them, as though looking for one of her kitchen tiles to ripple into an escape hatch. What was wrong? What had happened in the seconds between her enthusiastic kiss and now?
“No,” she whispered.
“What?” he prodded, pointing the chocolate-covered fingers at her, aiming for the hollow of her throat. “You don’t like it? You want me to stop?”
“No,” she repeated, this time sounding weaker. “I don’t want you to stop, but…” She swallowed and lifted her face to him, showing glassy tears in her eyes. “You will stop.”
“What?” The hell?
She hugged herself and stepped back, effectively blocking a direct path to the trail of buttons that hid her bust, and at once Vinnie understood. Being constantly around women like Lupe and Lola, who worked and walked with an air of confidence, he’d come to think that the norm. Tish didn’t have a California toothpick body— not that it bothered him—but he realized she might have a problem showing it off.
“Hey. C’mere.” He scraped the excess chocolate on the rim of the bowl and moved to lick the rest away, then thought against it. So they’d get dirty. He’d enjoy cleaning up with her.
Tish stiffened in his touch, so he moved slowly and gently to assure her. “Why don’t you let me decide if I want to stop?” he suggested. “I can tell you for sure I won’t. Feel this.”
He brought her free hand down to his crotch and curled it over his rock-hard bulge. “You do this to me just as you are now. Imagine what would happen if you let me sample more of you?”
Tish’s eyes widened as she fanned her fingers apart to better cup him. The warmth of that simple gesture caused his cock to throb with greater want. Damn, if he didn’t relieve this ache soon his jeans zipper would bust from the pressure. “God, Tish,” he groaned.
“I-I’m doing this to you?” She still didn’t believe it.
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. The hand that had covered hers snaked forward to slip her jeans button from its loop. Metal zipper teeth pried painfully apart, but the sight of pink see-through silk covering a thatch of blonde pubic hair was reward enough.
She groaned in protest.
“What?” he teased.
Tish sighed. “I’m fat.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“I’m wearing granny panties.”
“Not for much longer.” He loved the shock lighting her eyes at that.
“And I didn’t shave this morning—”
“I don’t care. Lean back.”
He steered her to the block so that the small of her back pressed against the edge. Further protests died on her lips as Vinnie took more control of the situation. He hooked his thumbs under the waist of her jeans at either side and eased them over her hips, hissing with approval with every inch of exposed skin. Granny panties, fleshy thighs, even her pretty polished toenails promised a banquet. When he coaxed the pink silk from her body he saw at least one part was neatly trimmed, bare
ly covering a pussy quivering for his attention.
He scooped up a dollop of ganache and knelt before her, taking in the scent of her desire. She wanted him—her body betrayed her reluctance. He slathered the ganache between her legs but left her pussy untouched.
That single origin he wanted to taste raw first. * * * *
Oh. My. Fuck. Ing. God!
No way in hell could she have predicted this. She’d prepared only for a nice evening of dinner and conversation with a new friend, and an endless night of truffle making. The dark Italian hunk tickling the juncture between her thighs with his tongue had seemed at best a torrid fantasy to accompany her nightly vibrator session.
She peered downward. Yep, he was still there, licking with broad strokes over her skin. Every touch was a stab at her balance—she would drip faster than a bar of Hershey’s left in the sun if he didn’t stop.
And if he did, she’d protest even more.
Leaning back, elbows bracing on the counter, she closed her eyes and let her body dictate every sensation to her. Heat sizzled and pooled in her belly, sliding down to her pussy where she sensed an explosion any second. Allowing Vinnie to ease her legs apart happened with little effort—he powered her now, and could mold her flesh as simply as she shaped her beloved candies.
With better results, she didn’t doubt.
“You taste so damn good, Tish,” he murmured over her skin, his lips not breaking contact. Pressing a thumb at the top of her cleft, he pushed the skin upward to expose more of her pussy lips. A light ganache fingerprint tangled in her pubic hair, but she knew his gaze zeroed in on her bare clit.
If only his tongue…oh, there it was!
He lapped at her, so achingly slow, hitting all the right spots. When his other hand rose to explore the depths of her core she noted the ease with which he slipped inside her. She hadn’t been this wet in a long time. As he sped the pace of his fingers, she detected her own scent mingling with the chocolate, which assaulted her from the side. Conflicting aromas of sweetness and salt dizzied her senses and distracted her from Vinnie’s loving ministrations. She had to get him to bed, away from the busy sensations of the kitchen.
Vinnie shook his head when she quietly suggested it, and kept tapping at her clit. “I like it here,” he said when he briefly came up for air.
“I can’t keep standing like this,” she whined. “It’s too much. I’m gonna fall on your face.”
Up again. “So do it. I’ll catch you.”
“I’ll crush you.”
“I don’t care.” To assist her, he released his oral hold and rolled onto his seat. Already a wobbling mess, Tish cast a final glance at the chocolate bowl.
Hell, she thought and fisted the dark, bittersweet goop. “Take off your pants,” she said, surprised by her rising bravado.
Vinnie obliged with a smile, and soon a large, thick cock saluted from a dark nest of curls. God, but she could create a mold and make a fortune selling chocolate Vinnies to lonely women around the world.
Right. He wanted her. She’d share her sacred key lime truffle recipe first.
She pitched forward to straddle Vinnie’s hips, then scrambled to reverse herself, all the while tucking in her abdomen so she didn’t completely droop like a freakish pendulum. Thank the Lord her breasts were still concealed by her blouse and bra. Doggy style wasn’t her most attractive position, but at least with a sixty-nine Vinnie’s line of vision would be blocked.
His cock looked too damn good to ignore. She let Vinnie guide her hips and ass to where he could continue eating her pussy, then fisted his shaft with the chocolate, making sure to cover every raised vein and ridge with a thin sheen.
Oh, yeah. Whether the chocolate enhanced Vinnie’s natural musk or vice versa, Tish didn’t care. The bulbous head of his cock softened between her lips while his rod took on a solid consistency in her grip. Her dry hand cradled his balls, massaging them in circular motion in time to the rise and fall of her head as she reached for every smudge of chocolate. There wouldn’t be a stain left, she vowed silently.
“Shit! That’s good.”
That’s what she thought she heard anyway. She wanted to ease up and ask for clarification, but Vinnie strengthened his loving assault on her pussy. The jolt to her core caused her balance to fail, and soon lifting her head to continue sucking him seemed a great effort when the orgasm hit. She writhed atop him, pressing her pussy further back so Vinnie couldn’t stop. Side to side he swiped at her clit while fingers probed her cunt and ass, pumping hard.
“Yes!” Seconds after Vinnie’s tongue left her, the sensation of pleasure remained strong. Yet her body hadn’t recovered when he nudged her to rise.
He muttered and cursed, grasping the floor with glistening fingers until he reached his pants. “Come on, come on, yes!” He successfully fished a wrinkled condom from his now discarded wallet and motioned her to stand. “From behind,” he ordered, and ripped a corner of the wrapper. “I wanna see my dick fucking that gorgeous ass.”
“Huh?” Up came the uncertainty again, bubbling in her stomach and sliding up her throat in a bitter tang—like a mistaken bite of unsweetened chocolate. He wanted her to bend over the butcher’s block? Surely he’d see her socalled gorgeous ass would look more like…big.
She tried to protest but Vinnie had sheathed himself and aimed his cock like a gun. “Turn around,” he growled. “I need to be in you, and you need it, too. I can see it.”
She didn’t doubt Vinnie could read her desire, probably flushed pink across her features. If she turned around, though, he’d see the dimpled cellulite of her backside and the unflattering wide curve of her ass cheeks. There wasn’t enough ganache in the bowl to cover her flaws.
Tish didn’t argue, though, when he guided her into the right position. She looked over her shoulder and saw huge hands palm her rump, concealing the jiggle. The heat of his skin pulsed over her, warming her in the sudden cool of the kitchen. She twisted back and kept her gaze to her hands, gasping at the first contact of cock to cunt.
Vinnie exhaled audibly, his presence looming large behind her with every push deep into her pussy. Tish had to adjust her stance to better accommodate his girth, and once he fully seated himself she closed her eyes to imprint the sensation in her heart. Shit, it felt good to be filled like this again, and by somebody who called her beautiful. That this happened now still amazed her, however. He didn’t blink at her hardly-sexy panties, or the stubble on her shins, or her cottage cheese skin. He was a hunk, a man easily compatible with a woman of equal beauty, like Lupe’s flighty sister. Why her instead? Surely he didn’t think she was easy and willing to fuck anybody because she thought herself too fat that her options were limited.
Her work kept her from dating, most of the time. Boredom with shallow and uninteresting men prevented a lasting relationship. What if Vinnie turned out like all the others? What then?
The questions nagged her, so much that she hadn’t realized Vinnie undid her bra hooks until she sensed his hands cupping her breasts.
Slowly he pumped in and out of her. “I love your breasts,” he said on a sigh, and fingered her hardening nipples. “I bet these would taste good on their own.”
“Oh, wow.” Did she say that out loud? Who cared? Sensation overload loomed imminent. So what if Vinnie turned out to be dull or vain? She’d enjoy the ride, and being ridden.
Head hanging between her braced arms, she thrust her hips backward as Vinnie slammed into her. She was slick, and knew if Vinnie kept the pace he might thrust all the way through her and topple the block. She’d die a happy woman, anyway, not at all disappointed that she’d let Dareville Academy down by not fulfilling their order. So long as they buried her with a box of truffles to go.
“Tish, babe, I’m gonna come.” His warning came too late. Seconds later he grunted and pushed his orgasm through her. One hand left her right breast to swirl around her clit as he spilled into her, causing Tish to nearly lose her grip on the counter. She keened and cried
her own satisfaction with Vinnie, and moved her hips with his during the slow denouement of their passion, his cock throbbing inside her.
It must have been a full minute as Vinnie rested his forehead on her shoulder, panting heavily. Tish remained still, waiting for her body to slow to the rest of the world before attempting to move. If Vinnie would let her, from his encompassing grasp.
“You know,” he said, “only one thing better than eating chocolate is burning it off.” He kissed her shoulder.
“Don’t I know it.”
“Got any more?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Chapter Seven
Lupe looked none the worse for wear when Vinnie saw her at her desk. Hopefully Robbie had calmed down last night and cut her some slack.
Humming a happy tune in time to the song on a nearby radio, she clacked quickly away at her computer, looking up only as he set an elegant blue box, dressed in a silk ribbon, on her desk.
He smiled down into her dark, expressive eyes. “Miss Richmond sends her apologies for missing your walking date this morning,” he said. “She, ah, had a late night.”
Lupe offered him a demure smile. “Is that right?” She glanced at the box, emblazoned with Tish’s company’s logo. “I’ve always believed the best apologies were chocolate-covered. Tell her I accept, and that I’ll see her bright and early tomorrow for double distance to make up for what she missed.”
“You’re that confident I’ll see her again, huh?” he teased.
“Yes, because you are, too.” Turning in her seat, she reached for a stack of note papers. “Here are your messages.”
“Thank you. And I have something for you.” He reached into his back pocket and produced a thin, shiny object. Lupe opened her mouth to speak but instead gasped on seeing the letter opener bearing the Big Apple logo.
“A bit of advice.” Vinnie couldn’t help the mirth in his voice. “Next time you have a flat tire, you might want to hang onto the device you used to cause it instead of leaving it under the car. An insurance claims adjuster might get a bit suspicious.”