Page 10 of Possessive Greek Chef

Now, standing here under the night sky with her in my arms, I wonder how much longer I can rein in the beast inside me that wants to possess her.

“It’s getting late. I should probably go home soon,” she tells me.

“Yeah, it is late. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow and sleep in.”

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” I see the concern in her eyes and know that I have to put her at ease.

“No, you’re perfect. I just want to take you out on an official date. Take the day off, get some rest, and I’ll pick you up for a night on the town.”

Her eyes light up and she hugs me just a bit tighter, “That sounds like fun. I can’t wait.”

I drive her home and wait for her to enter her building. A girl like Aria deserves to be wined and dined. She should be showered with romance and roses, fine dinners, and moonlight dances. I will treat her like a princess and earn the right to make love to her.

This isn’t some fling. No. When I look at her, I see the future. In the meantime, however, I’ll be rushing home to have a date with my hand in the hot tub.

* * *

Andromeda isabout to open for the afternoon and I’m on my way out the door. Last night’s receipts, next week’s menu, and payroll are completed, freeing me to get ready for my date with Aria. As I make my way to the door, my bartender flashes me a grin. She’s been on me to start dating for a long time now, and she’s glad to see me showing an interest in something more than the gym and the kitchen.

I arrive home for a quick workout before dressing for the evening and sending Aria a text.

“See you in about three hours?”

She replies quickly, “Can’t wait.”

I have a big night planned for us. We’ll start with a nice dinner at Vassilenas. As a chef, I’m very particular about where I dine but Vassilenas has an amazing traditional Greek menu and chefs that refuse to alter their generationally traded recipes to meet the whims of tourists. Eating there is like eating in my own grandmother’s kitchen.

It’s impossible to concentrate on my workout, and I find my mind replaying the events of the past few days. Taking Aria over my lap and spanking her was a huge turn-on for me but tasting her delicate pussy was the icing on the cake. Seeing her naked confirmed what I had already known.

She’s perfect from head to toe. My wandering mind causes my cock to stiffen, putting an abrupt end to my workout. I drop my shorts, sit in front of the mirror, and stroke myself off. I’ve jerked off more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in the last six months. This girl is driving me mad.

I stop by the flower stand on my way to pick up Aria and purchase a bouquet of multicolored roses to cover all of the bases. I suppose I should ask her what her favorite flower is and maybe even her favorite color. Tonight is going to be all about getting to know each other.

Pull up to the curb and survey the neighborhood. I’m not pleased that she’s living here, but I understand that rent can be high in the city. Still, this neighborhood is a bit on the seedy side and I worry about her safety. She’s waiting for me inside the front door of her building and steps out when I pull up to the curb.

I would have liked to check out the inside of the place, but there will be time enough for that. I may even invest in a door alarm to be on the safe side. As she walks to the car, I laugh, wondering if she’d let me put up video monitors in her place.

“You’re in a good mood,” she grins as she gets in the car.

“My mood brightened the second I laid eyes on you, beautiful,” I reach behind the seat and pick up the bouquet. “These are for you. Would you like to take them inside before we go?”

“Do you think they’ll be okay until we get back? I don’t want to trudge all the way up those stairs right now.”

“Whatever you want, princess. They’re your flowers,” I shrug, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” she sticks her nose into the flowers and breathes deeply.

“I hope you like traditional Greek cuisine.”

“I love it. That’s why I moved here. I’ve been spending most of my off time cooking up recipes at home.”

“You should have told me. I’ll share my grandmother’s recipes with you,” I tell her and she reaches for my hand.

“That’s amazingly sweet. You don’t know how special that is,” she beams.

We arrive at Vassilenas and are seated immediately. As we walk to the table, the other diners gawk and whisper. No doubt they’re wondering why someone like me is dining in a place like this. The owner smiles, knowing that my patronage will do wonders for his reputation.

“Atticus, it’s been ages. How have you been?” he asks.

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