Page 8 of Sin and Seduction

“But having guests fall in love with each and every new creation you have doesn’t,” I say, and his eyes snap back to mine, a deep understanding in them as he nods at me.

“Yes, that. That is the greatest feeling of it all. Having people fall in love with your art.”

He’s silent for a moment, a small bit of sadness drifting over him. It makes me blurt out the first thought that comes to my mind.

“Help me with my restaurant, then,” I say, and his eyes widen.

“That’s yours, Emmie. That’s your art and passion. I will always be around to help you with whatever you need, but I will not step in and take control of your dream.” He says this to me sternly, but I can still tell that it excites him a little, the prospect of cooking in a restaurant again.

“Javier, I know how to bake. I went to business school, not culinary school. I was going to have to hire a chef anyway. Why would I do that when I could have you as my partner?” I say, and his eyes now widen like saucers.

“Partner?” he asks, and I nod at him.

“Yes, partner. You’ve owned several restaurants. You know the ropes better than everyone. I trust you with this more than anyone else,” I say honestly, and he looks around, suddenly seeming paranoid.

“What about Dante, Emmie? He owns several restaurants currently.”

“He owns them. He doesn’t oversee them or have anything to do with the creative process or even day-to-day operations. Not to mention, he’s also my husband. And seeing him both at work and at home may get old very quickly. I’m trying to keep my marriage alive, Javier, not kill it early on.” I wink at him, and he laughs, digesting my words as silence stretches.

“Can I think about it?” he asks after a while, and I nod.

“Absolutely. I haven’t even graduated yet.” We laugh together, and I help him chop vegetables for tonight’s dinner.

He’s making my mom’s favorite, roast chicken with glazed carrots. The nostalgia doesn’t make me sad; it just brings me more peace that I welcome with open arms.

“I’m sorry about everything, by the way...I didn’t want to bombard you or overstep my boundaries. I spent a lot of time with your mother these last couple of months. She really did love you,” he says sadly, and I offer him a small smile, chopping celery for the chicken.

“I know she did, Javi. I know. And you are never a bother. You’re the first friend I made here, and I will always be grateful for you.” I pat his hand and give him the bowl of chopped celery and onions.

“Are you flirting with my wife, Chef?” Dante teases from the doorway.

I look up and find him casually leaning against the frame, his eyes bright and a small smile on his lips. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and dark jeans, which makes my mouth instantly water. I’ve never seen him in such simple attire before, I didn’t think he owned anything other than suits, but this outfit, mixed with his unshaven face and carefree attitude, has me all kinds of wet suddenly.

My eyes travel up and down his form before landing on his. He holds my gaze, and something unspoken happens between us. Something unspoken and incredibly seductive. I remove my apron and set it on the hook by the cabinet, walking over to Dante as I murmur to Javier over my shoulder.

“I’ll be back in a little, Javi. I need to speak to my husband about something,” I say as I walk out of the kitchen. Dante and his hungry eyes follow me immediately.

4

Esmeralda

Dante followsme to his bedroom and locks the door behind us.

There’s a sudden urgency inside me, but when I look back at Dante, the look on his face says that he has all of the time in the world. He’s usually just as eager as I am when we’re about to fuck, but it seems like today we are on two completely different wavelengths.

I take my dress off in a rush, not paying any mind to his calm state, and turn around to face him. His eyes travel slowly over my half-naked form, and it makes me shiver in response. Minutes of silence go by, and he just stands there, staring and admiring me.

“Do you want me to spin for you?” I ask, and he shakes his head, confusing me once more.

“No, I just want to look at my beautiful wife,” he says quietly, and then it dawns on me.

This is the first time that we’ll be having sex as a married couple. This is our first consummation, and I’m trying to roll into it headfirst like a hormonal teenager.

“I’m all yours,” I say, removing my bra and walking over to him.

His eyes darken and land on my bare breasts. I reach up and glide my fingers through his long hair. It’s grown the same amount as his beard, curling around his neck, touching the top of his spine.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks me, and it takes me a minute to realize what he’s really asking.

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