Page 23 of Say Yes to the Chef

I nod. “I’d like it off of you, too, but this.” I motion toward her. “Exquisite.”

She blows out her breath in a low whistle. “You know you don’t have to say those things to get into my pants, right?” She chuckles and, in one quick motion, strips bare. Before I can revel in her nakedness, she tosses the swimsuit at my face and jumps up onto the bed, scooting backwards until she’s pressed against the pillows. “Especially if I’m not wearing any.”

With a laugh, I pull my t-shirt off, then strip out of my pants, quickly joining her on the bed

Our bodies come together in a rush, so perfectly that it’s a wonder we haven’t spent lifetimes fucking one another. It’s seamless the way we fit together.

I reach over and grab a condom, tearing the packet open with my teeth, then lift my hips and reach down between us to tug the thing on. I’m clumsy and frenzied and Adrienne laughs as she reaches down and stills my hand, then finishes the job, her warm hands around my cock drawing a groan of pleasure from my lips.

I’ve loved her slowly. I’ve fucked her hard and fast.

I’ve feasted on her, and she on me.

Tonight, though we may be pressed for time, I intend to make her come apart at least twice before I have to don that silly suit and pretend there’s not something—someone—I’d rather be doing.

Once I’ve sheathed myself, I stretch out along her body, smiling when she whimpers at the pressure of my cock lining up against her opening.

A man could get addicted to the sounds Adrienne Rhone makes.

I might be already.

A phone rings on the bedside table and Adrienne’s eyes go wide. “Shit.”

I search her gaze. Is this a boyfriend? A husband she lied about? The thought makes my stomach hollow out.

“My daughters,” she says, smiling sheepishly. “I haven’t talked to them yet today.”

My eyebrows rise as the pieces all fit together and finally make sense in my brain, then I hurry and climb off of her. “Don’t explain.” I motion toward the phone and she flashes a relieved smile, then hurries to grab the device before her voicemail picks up.

“Oh my god.” She groans and looks back at me as she runs a hand through her hair and looks down at her naked body. “It’s FaceTime.”

I roll my lips together to keep from laughing, then swiftly make myself scarce, hiding in the bathroom like somebody’s mistress as she answers the call, my cock still heavy and full, not getting the memo.

“Hey, baby,” Adrienne says by way of hello, her voice sounding funny even to me—and I only met her a couple days ago.

“Mommy,” her daughter yells, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christm—”

“Are you naked? Why are you—”

“No, of course not.”

I close my eyes and do my best to keep from laughing. Not only is she naked, but she’s wet between the legs, and the room is a disaster, clothes strewn about in such a way that it’s obvious we undressed hastily.

“What’s going on, Mom?” A pause, then, “Why do you look weird?”

“Oh my god,” Adrienne mumbles under her breath. “Chloe, focus. Tell me how your Christmas has been. How’s Danny’s family?”

The conversation becomes focused on Chloe and Danny, and the longer I stand here, naked in the bathroom, the more I realize that Adrienne’s daughter, regardless of calling herMommy, is not very young.

I told Adrienne that age doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t, but… I’m curious.

By the time she hangs up the phone and calls for me to come out of my hiding place, I’ve learned that Chloe and Danny have started talking about marriage, the other sister is at some swanky ski resort in Aspen and doesn’t have cell service, and Adrienne is not nearly as young as I thought.

She has her head in her hands when I return to her, and the look of her there, curled up on the bed with her head hanging makes something in my chest tighten.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I approach the bed.

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