Page 5 of Filthy Chef

“An oat milk brown sugar latte with whip and salted caramel swirl is not a meal, shortcake,” he says.

I’d love to ignore that nickname, but some deeply problematic part of me loves it. Yes, I am shorter than him. Yes, he’s tall—dreamily so—but a guy can’t go around ascribing women nicknames, especially not dessert-related nicknames.

Too bad my delight outweighs my logical sensibilities. “You remembered my drink! You must wait tables,” I say.

He shrugs. “In a former life, yeah.”

“What are you doing now? “

“Journey. You still haven’t answered my question. When did you last eat a real meal?” He emphasizes the word “real.” I can tell now this man will not put up with my coy answers. Weirdly, Jay is much less lighthearted than he was on the bus this morning. Sigh. Leave it to me to attract a guy with a volatile personality.

I think back to last night when I arrived at my hotel. “I had fast food curly fries last night.”

“Good grief.”

“Who are you? My dad?”

This question provokes a mischievous grin that I remember from this morning. “Someone needs to look after you, evidently.”

I know I should not like a man I might be interested in to make analogies to my father. It is all kinds of wrong. But here I am, inhaling the spicy scent of Jay’s expensive aftershave, appreciating how he leans into me like I’m the only woman on the planet. His eyes land on my mouth, and my nipples harden.

Damn, I’m an easy lay for this type of guy. He just has to smell good and have pretty hair and I’m ready to open my legs. Still. Gotta make him work a little. “Not to get all Freudian here, but I wouldn’t know what to do with a daddy figure who actually encouraged me to eat,” I say.

Jay’s smile falters, and he blinks at me, studying my face silently.

Why…why did I say that? My excitement makes me overshare constantly, and I hate it.

“Journey, what the fuck happened to you?”

Shit. This is getting too personal.

I shake my head and smile bravely. “Nothing. Just starving to the point of speaking nonsense. Thanks for picking me up.”

Jay’s stony expression softens, and he reaches for me. I go completely still as he brushes his fingers over my hair, the pad of his thumb barely touching my cheek.

“We’re about to have a lot of fun filling you up, little girl.”

I try not to look like an innocent little lamb as blood rushes hot through my veins.

Oh god, my panties just got a lot sweatier.

Texas is too humid for my blood.

three

Jason

“You never told me what you do for a living?” Journey asks.

“Eat,” I tell her, looking over the dessert menu.

She’s already devoured an entire plate of sashimi and a dragon roll. Now we’re splitting a Texas tornado roll: habanero tuna rolled in cilantro lime rice, drizzled with a spicy-sweet chili sauce.

Journey is a handful, asking lots of questions. If I were a better man, I would tell her exactly who I am. But again, I don’t want her to shy away from me or from the restaurant business in Dallas. I need time to hatch my plan until she’s mine.

“Oh, I don’t have room for dessert,” she says, shoveling more slices of the Texas tornado into her pretty mouth.

I set down the dessert menu and simply watch her momentarily, unable to stop the filthy thoughts swimming around in my head. Journey makes eating sushi even sexier than it already is. Her appreciative little noises, the way her eyes roll back into her head when something tastes so good it catches her by surprise. I could watch her eat all damn day. My palms itch to touch her. My cock aches to feel those pouty lips wrapped around it.

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