Just a Taste (Private Relations 1)

Being of limited experience, Deacon was the largest guy she’d been with so far, so it took her body a minute to adjust to the invasion. When she wriggled her hips, he apparently took that as a sign to move, thrusting forward. They began to move against each other in unison for several moments, not breaking eye contact until she felt a delicious tension blossom in her lower belly.

As if he sensed she was on the brink, he leaned down and bit her shoulder. The surprising mix of pleasure and pain shot her right over the edge. After a few rough thrusts, he had emptied himself into the condom.

Panting with exertion, he moved off her to get rid of the condom. He lay back down next to her on his side and looked at her for a few moments.

Before she could even catch her breath, he got up off the bed and got dressed. She dressed, too, because it would’ve been weird to just lie there.

He mumbled something incomprehensible. Uncertain about what was going on, she looked at him expectantly. In answer he gave her a vague smile and a handshake, then walked out of the room.

Shaking her head, Sara moved back into the present, disgusted with herself for that stroll down memory lane. Sexy though it may have been up until the handshake, she couldn’t allow herself to continue down that path.

Deciding she had spent way too much energy on this line of thought, Sara moved her dishes to the dishwasher, and grabbed a can of cat food for Smitty. At the sound of the can opening, he dashed into the room, started winding himself between her calves, and purred loudly.

Smiling at her fickle beast, she scraped the food into his cat bowl and set it on the ground. With a sniff and a small yowl as if to say, “Thanks but what took you so long?” he attacked his meal with vigor.

After rinsing the can and throwing it into recycling, she decided it was time for bed.

Idly scratching Smitty’s ears, she wandered back to the bedroom, changed into pajamas, grabbed a book, and then proceeded to pass out almost immediately.

The rest of Sara’s weekend flew by in a whirlwind of hors d’oeuvres and entrees. It left little time to think about Deacon, and even less time to worry about the future. By 9:00 a.m. on Monday, fueled by four hours of sleep and a venti iced mocha, she was so ready to hire a replacement for Maggie. The way she figured, it was probably time to hire a full-timer anyway. At least she could sweeten the deal by saying it wasn’t a temporary gig.

After the four incredibly unsuccessful interviews, and three more cups of coffee, Sara was getting cranky. She had hoped to have some options, but at this rate she’d be lucky to find someone with a pulse, let alone any sense of urgency.

During the last interview, however, Sara hit pay dirt. Bret was experienced, had a genuine interest in the business, had actual verifiable references, and was even well spoken.

Best of all? Available immediately.

Having asked Elle to contact his references and then offer the job if they even recognized his name, she grabbed a refill on her coffee and headed over to JDC to start taking deliveries on food.

By 2:30 p.m. her caffeine buzz had officially worn off, but the day was far from over. Putting on her headphones, she started to work on the meatballs for the stew. Elbow deep in Cajun-seasoned pork, she let out a yelp when someone touched her shoulder. Whirling around, she saw Deacon standing there, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Shit. Had she been singing?

Peeling off her gloves and taking out her earbud

s, she said, “Jesus Christ. You scared me!”

Seeing the smirk turn into a smug grin, her eyes narrowed.

Sniffing disdainfully, she asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Nope. I’m good. Just checking in. How’s it going so far?” he asked with undisguised humor.

Her lips twitched despite her annoyance and she said, “Well, so far. All the deliveries arrived, and I’m starting on prep now.”

“Actually, if you’ve got a minute, I’ll show you the space for tomorrow.”

Looking at the clock on the wall, she moved to cover the meat and put it in the refrigerator.

“Oh yeah. I should probably do that at some point. Now is as good a time as any.”

After removing her apron and hairnet, she followed him out of the kitchen and around to the other side of the main lobby to a set of double doors.

He opened one of the doors and gestured her inside. Looking at the full ballroom set up, she was floored.

“A full ballroom? Really?”

“We got a hotel on the cheap and converted parts of it. Kept some of the others. We thought the kitchen would be a good investment and the ballroom can easily convert to a conference room. It really allows us a lot of autonomy.”