Devour Me: An Alpha Beds a Virgin Dirty Chef Romance Page 4
Seven
Ripley
I’m a dirty-minded fucker, and teasing Madison made what is typically the most boring day of class the most exciting. And when I saw that picture of lips around a cock, I almost came in my pants. I know it was me. Not because she has the proportions right, but because she dates her pages, and the date was yesterday. Too much of a coincidence to tell her I want to shut her up with my cock in her mouth and see that exact image on the page.
The doorbell rings and my dick twitches. I hang a dishtowel from the belt of my pants hoping it disguises the hard-on I’ve been dealing with since yesterday.
I came home after class and jacked off in the shower hoping to find some relief, but each time I close my eyes, I see her lips wrapped around my cock and my hand wrapped around her head. I control the pace and depth and she takes every damn inch of me.
With a tug, I pull the towel so it hangs over my zipper and walk to the door. When I open it, there are only four people, and the only one I want to see is missing.
Not wanting to call attention to my attraction, I invite them in and then in what I hope is a nonchalant voice, I inquire about Madison.
“Where’s Ms. Leclerc?”
They look around themselves like she’s hiding and Chad says, “Oh hell, we forgot about her.”
Rage boils inside me. They didn’t forget about her. They left her because she’s not one of them. “Teamwork people. It’s the first secret to success. Do you think I created what I have on my own? No.” My voice rises an octave. “I owe my success to everyone on my team whether it’s the delivery guy who brings the butter, or the dishwasher who makes sure there’s no soap left in my baking pans. If one of them drops the ball, I fail. We all fail.” What I want to do is tell them to get the fuck out of my house and race down the hill to get Madison.
Then the doorbell rings again. I point down the hallway and tell them to make themselves at home. Before I turn to answer the door, I say a silent prayer that it’s her.
She’s there on my doorstep looking as beautiful as ever. He cheeks are pink from the cold air, and I wonder if they heat from passion as well.
“Are you going to invite me in, or is there a secret password, or handshake, or something.” She looks beyond me to the group gathering around my kitchen island. “Apparently I missed the initiation.”
She doesn’t sound bitter but resigned. It’s as if being left out is normal for her.
I pull her inside and take her coat. She safety pinned the tear but a few feathers escape and float through the air. “I’m sorry about the others. I just read them the riot act for leaving you behind.”
“You didn’t. Now they’ll hate me for sure.” Her green eyes go wide. “It’s bad enough I’m here for free, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but now you’ve made me a target.”
I push her into my office and close the door behind us. “Madison, no one will make the mistake of treating you like a target. I won’t allow it.”
She backs up and I follow her until she’s pinned to the wall. “Why do you care? I don’t. This has been my life forever.”
She’s trying to act tough, but it’s obvious she’s hurt. No one wants to be left out. I know her pain. “I don’t know why, but I do care. Before we go out there, I want to ask you a question. Remember when you said you don’t lie—“
“—I don’t lie.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth which is a tell in itself. I’m sure she doesn’t lie on purpose, but will she tell the truth now?
I press my body until it’s flush with hers. “Did you draw my cock?” I rock my hips and press my hard-on into her soft belly.
Her hands come to my chest, and I wait for the push, but it doesn’t come. Instead, a low breathy answer whispers forth. “Yes.”
“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I want to hear.” My lips cover hers, and I taste heaven for the first time. My tongue dips in gently at first until she moans, and then I explore every piece of her sweet mouth. Her hands no longer press against my chest, but grip my shirt like she’s hanging on for life.
She turns her head until the kiss breaks. Breathless, she asks, “Why me?”
There is only one answer. “Because you’re perfect.” I brush her lips with mine. “The bathroom is to your right if you need it.” I adjust my erection and back away to the door. “Come out when you’re ready.”
The whole exchange lasts a minute. It feels like a lifetime. It’s not enough.
I leave her behind, but I’m not like the others because I have every intention of coming back again and again and again.
When I walk into the kitchen, I make no excuses for my delay. I don’t have to, it’s my fucking house and Madison is the only one I want here. What really pisses me off is they alienated her because she’s not a chef. How many times have I been alienated because I wasn’t something? Too many times.
I pull the cork from a bottle of chilled wine and pour six glasses. No more than a minute later, Madison walks in and greets everyone.
“Hey.” Her cheeks are flushed and her lips cherry red. I stand taller because I caused both.
Chad steps forward and holds out his arms like he’s asking for a hug. “I’m sorry we left you. It was an oversight. You’re not at our hotel so we didn’t think.”
“Not a problem.” She looks at Chad and then at me. Seeing two glasses of wine in my hand she rounds Chad and walks to me. That’s my girl. That thought hits me like a rolling pin to the chest because after one kiss I know I’ll never kiss another.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering whose cake won the most votes.” I open the oven and check on dinner. Everything looks good. “What cake do you think my customers prefer?”
Chad pipes in with gusto. “Mine of course. Who doesn’t love chocolate on chocolate?”
Paige raises her hand. “I don’t. It’s too much. Which is why I made the carrot cake.”
I hold up a sealed envelope like it’s the CPA-counted results for a beauty pageant. “I love all cakes, but your average person likes a taste of home. For some that’s chocolate. For some it’s ginger.” I look at the faces in front of me and connect with Madison. “For some it’s lemon.” I hand the envelope to Cliff. “Care to do the honors?”
He plucks it from my fingers. “Is there a prize?”
“There’s always a prize. Tonight’s winner gets me exclusively for an hour tomorrow.” Their eyes light up like kids. Everyone’s eyes sparkle but Madison’s. She already thinks she lost, but what she doesn’t know is she can have me exclusively all the other hours.
I don’t have a clue who won because the bakery manager takes care of it, so when Cliff tears open the envelope we all wait for the answer.
I know it’s not him when his shoulders slump. “The winner is…” he points to Chad. “Not you.” He points to Grayson. “Not you.” He points to Madison. “Not you, sweetheart.” His use of the term sweetheart angers me. He has no right.
“This isn’t an Academy Award. Just tell us.” I pull the paper from his hand. “The winner is Paige with thirty five tokens.”
Paige does a happy dance around the kitchen. Her face is joyous, but Madison’s is murderous. My girl is jealous. I can work with that.
“Second place is Madison with thirty-three tokens.” The whole group goes silence until Grayson says, “That’s because you made her cake.”
I hold up my hand. “In all fairness to Madison, I only gave her a recipe. She did the rest, and as you guys who have more experience know, the process is as important as the ingredients.” I walk around the island and place my hand on Madison’s shoulder. She leans into me, and I like that. “Congratulations Madison, there may be a sous chef in you.”
She beams and then nearly knocks me flat on my ass with her reply. “God, I hope so.”
No one picks up the underlying message shared between us except me, and I suddenly can’t wait to send everyone but her home.
I lick my lips savoring the taste she left there.
“Next is Grayson with twenty-seven, Chad with twenty-two, and last is Cliff with eighteen.”
I pick up a hot pad and pull out our dinner. I plate it up and lead everyone to the dining room.
“Your house is amazing, Mr. Stark.” Madison’s voice floats over me like a wet tongue on bare skin. “How long have you owned it?”
I sit at the end of the table and place Madison to my right where she belongs. She takes her seat and places her napkin softly on her lap. Yes, this girl is refined, but she’s more.
Last night when I researched her, I thought she was one of the spoiled princesses who didn’t give me the time of day when I started in this business. Article upon article listed her as American royalty, but as I dug deeper, I found a softer side to her.
“I bought it two years ago. Glad you like it.”
“It’s extraordinary.” She lifts her glass of wine and looks to the painting above the fireplace. “Is that a Krager?”
I raise my glass in salute. “Very good, Ms. Leclerc. I bought it on a trip to London five years ago. I’m surprised you know of him. It’s not like he’s mainstream.”
As soon as the subject of art comes up the other students lose interest and start eating. Madison and I continue our conversation.
“He may not be mainstream, but he’s magnificent. His pictures are reaching six figures, which is unheard of for a new artist.”
“Then I made a good choice. I paid under ten grand. It would seem I have an eye for quality.” I wipe my mouth and lay my napkin on my lap. Instead of bringing my hand back to the table, I rest it on her knee and she jumps. I run my fingers up her thigh, hating the jeans that are keeping me from her skin.
I look up and address the table. “Madison is an art expert.” Everyone stops talking and looks to me. “She’s a hot commodity in the art world. She’s been asked to verify authenticity of notables such as Klimt, Rembrandt, and Dali. In her free time she teaches underprivileged youth how to paint, and she takes cooking classes.”
I squeeze her thigh as a message that says I’m proud of her. She places her hand on top of mine and the heat of her palm sears me all the way to my cock.
“How did you know?”
I lean toward her and quietly say, “You’re not the only one with internet.”
The group chitchats about not so secret recipes while Madison takes it all in. We come from opposites sides of the universe, but I hope she’s starting to see we’re very much the same.
When dinner is over, we move into the living room to talk about the week.
“Tomorrow we start at eight. Come ready to work hard. We’ll be going over several techniques that put me on the map.”
I pick up the glasses. It’s my hint for them to leave. When I return from the kitchen, the group is telling Madison she can ride with them.
“I’ve already called her an Uber.”
She is standing, staring at my painting while I walk the others to the door. When I get back to the living room, she’s gone. The swish of water and the clank of dishes bring me to the kitchen. The dishwasher is open, and she’s loading the plates.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. At first, she stiffens and then she settles against my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Helping.” She reaches for the next plate, but I shut off the water and pull her back against me. I like the feel of her in my arms—the softness of her ass against my rock hard cock. I close my eyes and imagine her like this, butt naked, with me driving my lust into her.
“I don’t need that kind of help. I have a housekeeper. I need something else from you.” I press my hardness against her so there’s no doubt what I’m asking for.
Her hips thrust away from me. “Oh.” She turns around and looks down at the strain in my jeans and her cheeks turn the color of red dye number five. “I thought I could help until the Uber came.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her toward the living room, swiping a bottle of wine and two glasses from the bar on our way. “There’s no Uber.”
“What?” The color falls from her face.
Did I misjudge her attraction? “I’ll take you back to the hotel, if you like, but I was hoping we could get to know each other better.”
“I’d like that too.”
I put the wine and glasses on the coffee table before I sit and pull her into my lap. My fingers are firmly on her hips. She tries to wrestle free, but I hold on tight.
“Mr. Stark, I’ll crush you.”
“I’ll die happy.” I raise one hand to her cheek and slide my fingers from her temple to her chin. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” The air around us crackles and sizzles. Her breath catches, and I know she feels it too. “I want you, Madison.”
“Maddy.” She whispers breathlessly. “My friends call me, Maddy.”
“Maddy.” I pull her face down so her lips almost touch mine. “I’m going to devour you.”
Eight
Maddy
His lips land on mine, and my world tilts, just the way it did when he kissed me in his office. His lips are hot and demanding. His tongue insists on entry, and I give it to him. It’s soft velvet and heat, and no crevice is left unexplored. I’ve never been kissed like this.
He twists me around so I straddle his lap. I don’t know how he does it with such ease or how he makes me feel so small but I’m far from inconsequential. He makes me feel important—necessary.
I pull my lips from his. “I don’t understand this.”
His thumbs are threaded through my belt loops and his fingers are splayed across my ass. He grips and pulls me down into his erection. “I want you, Maddy. I’d trade my next breath for a taste of you.”
An uncontrollable shudder runs through my body causing me to quiver on top of him. My nipples ache. They’re so hard I fear they’ll bust through the soft cotton of my shirt. He sees my discomfort and raises a hand from my hip to my breast and brushes his thumb over the rock hard pebble.
Sounds I’ve never heard before come from my mouth. Soft whimpers and moans that float through the air like cries of desperation.
“Tell me you want me.”
His hot lips are on my covered nipple and the heat almost burns me. Oh holy hell. I can’t even talk, I’m so turned on.
“Tell me, Maddy, I need to hear the words.”
“I want you.” I don’t have to think about the words. My body knows the answer. “I do want you.” The impact of that statement stills me. I’ve just committed to lose my virginity to a man I’ve known for a day. A man who agitates me in every way possible, but somehow makes me feel I have more worth than my bank account.
He wraps his hand around my mine and pulls my palm to the bulge in his jeans. I pull in a sharp breath. He’s enormous. Not that I have much to compare to. I’ve seen one in person, and that wasn’t nearly as impressive. Fear races through me.
“Feel how much I want you. It’s gone past want, Maddy. It’s need. I need you.”
I’ve never heard those words. I’ve heard ‘I need your support, I need your time, I need your money’ but to need me as a person is a different experience completely. I don’t understand that kind of need. “Why me?” It’s a question I keep asking because it’s one he doesn’t answer. “I’ve seen you with movie stars, models, and moguls. I’m not like them. Why me?”
He slides me from his lap and lays me down on the butter-soft, yellow, leather couch. He drapes my legs over his lap. His erection hops and jolts under my calf.
He leans forward and pops the cork from the bottle and pours two glasses of wine.
I shimmy back until I lean against the arm and take a glass from him. I’m not much of a drinker, but I take a long, thorough taste of the dry white wine and hope it numbs my insecurities.
Ripley turns toward me and unlaces my boots. One after the other, they drop to the floor. “Why you?”
He runs his fingers up the leg of my jeans and rubs my calves.
Thank God I shaved.
He picks up his glass of wine and stares at the painting. “That painting is titled, 'Surprises', and if you look closely at it, there are a few. In all that beautiful noise there’s a bird, a flower, a question mark, a woman’s face, a man’s smile, and probably so much more that I don’t see. You’re like that painting, Maddy. You ask why?” He sips at his wine and continues to massage my calf. “It’s because you’re not like any of the others. You’re a surprise.”
“You had me at painting.” I sit up and remove the glass from his hand. “Now kiss me before I wake up and realize it’s a dream.” I’m generally not so bold, but Ripley Stark told me I’m a surprise, so why not be one to myself as well?
Our mouths come together like two hungry people. He promises to devour me, so the perfect place to start is my lips. Then he moves to my neck where he nibbles and nips. Just when I think I can’t stand the excitement of his tongue near my ear, he pulls my cotton T-shirt from my jeans and pulls it over my head. He leans back and stares at me. The white lacy bra cuts against my hard nipples like shards of glass. With a deft touch, the hook is released and my boobs fall into his hands. He cups them and lifts them as if weighing them. “Perfect.” His thumb brushes over the rosy pebbles, and I nearly come undone. My body is humming with pleasure. I feel like I’m floating and my only tether is this man’s tongue on my nipple. “Feel good, sweetheart?” He pulls one bud into his mouth and sucks while his hand rolls and pinches the other. I’ve never had so much stimulation.
“God, yes. Don’t stop.”
He pulls back until my nipple pops from his mouth, and the cold air hits it painfully. “Never.”
The frenzy of my first time causes a feral response to his mouth. I crave his heated tongue on my skin and like a woman starved, I lift up, offering myself to him like a wanton slut. My body twitches and trembles as he crawls between my legs and rests his head on one breast while his hand kneads and teases the other. And then the onslaught of his lips and tongue begin again. I struggle to silence the sounds that escape without thought or warning. Grunts and groans fill the silent house while my body trembles beneath his weight.