BURN (The HEAT Series Book 1) (6 page)

"Are there any mushrooms in this dish, Chef?" Pamela, the morning show co-shot asks Tyler as she steps onto the outdoor set. The wind catches the bottom of her dress and lucky for her, Tyler is there to grab hold of it and keep it in place.

"No mushrooms today, Pamela," he says as smooths the skirt of her dress. "Cadence is going to take us through each of the steps required for preparation of the grilled octopus."

"What about those carrots over there?" She points to a bunch of carrots that, I assume, are part of the outdoor set. They're wilting and definitely past their prime.

"Speaking of carrots," Tyler segues beautifully. "The majority of the produce that we serve at Nova comes from my experimental garden that's located upstate. I have a team of gardeners there who I work closely with. We grow organic vegetables and fruits that are shipped twice a week to the restaurant. We also offer public tours of the garden for any viewers who are interested in learning about organic gardening."

"What are you doing now, Cadence?" Percy, the male co-host who greeted me again with a kiss to each of my cheeks, asks. "Can you explain the steps for preparation?"

I nod before I launch into a long winded and exuberant explanation of the marinade and the steps in the grilling process. I leave out several of the key ingredients in the marinade knowing how possessive Tyler is of his recipes.

"Do you do much grilling at home, Cadence?"

I turn to look at Percy. "I do actually. I have a built-in indoor grill in my kitchen so I'm able to take advantage of it whenever the mood strikes, but if I'm being honest, having this grilled octopus dish at Nova is my first choice."

Pamela giggles behind me. I doubt that has anything to do with what I just said and everything to do with the fact that Tyler is whispering something to her.

"If someone wanted to come down to Nova to enjoy this, would they even be able get a reservation at this point?" Percy asks with a chuckle. "I tried booking a table for my wife and I but we were out of luck."

"I'll arrange a special dinner for the two of you." Tyler slaps Percy on the back. "By popular demand we've added the grilled octopus to our lunch menu, and we do have limited reservations available for next week. If any viewers want to come down and try it, today would be the day to book a table."

I keep focused on what I'm doing, answering each of the questions Percy asks me and when I finish the dish, I let him push a forkful of grilled octopus into my mouth that was prepared hours ago for the sole purpose of being used as an example of the finished dish.

When Pamela finally tosses to a commercial break I catch my breath. That was Round Two. This morning right before we went on, we were invited back next week for Round Three. If Pamela can keep her hands to herself, we may just pull this off.

***

"It shouldn't feel this good, Chef."

"Why the fuck not?" He growls as he wraps my ponytail in his fist and pulls back. "You like when I fuck you. That's not a secret, Cadence."

I moan as I grip tightly to the edge of the desk, the discarded condom package in full view. "We shouldn't be doing this here. People will hear us."

"What people?" He drives his cock into me, the rhythm steady. "We're the only two people here."

I don't know if that's true. All I know is that as soon as we left the television studio, he told me he'd fuck me after work. I laughed, daring him to do it in the restaurant. With a glint in his eye and a squeeze of my ass, he told me he accepted the challenge and he'd have me before I went home.

I worked my entire shift feeling his gaze on me. Whenever I looked over at him, he winked at me. I giggled to myself, confident in the knowledge that he was enjoying this as much as I am. It's flirty, it's fun, and the sex is wickedly good.

"I thought about this when you came back here that first day." He circles his hips, his dick straining inside of me. "The first day you came back to my office, I wanted to fuck you like this then."

"You should have," I bite back as I tighten my grip on the wooden desk.

"I pictured it just like this." He slows, his hand circling my ass cheek. "You bent forward in your uniform with your pants down around your knees and your jacket hiked up so I can see your smooth little cunt."

I inch back on my feet, the words driving my need. "You thought about that?"

"About this?" he breathes. "About opening my pants like this, pulling out my dick and taking you?"

That's exactly how we look right now. We're both still dressed from dinner service, the only parts of our bodies exposed are connected now, deeply connected.

I push back into him, feeling the edge of my orgasm approaching. I reach down to touch my clit. It's swollen, hard, aching.

"You need it right now, don't you?" he hisses the words into the air. "You need to come."

"Yes," I cry out, not caring at this point who hears me. "I have to come."

He grabs my hair tighter, squeezes my ass and bucks his hips, sending me into the middle of an orgasm before he pumps out his own.

"What happens if it doesn't last?" Sophia picks up the iron to run it over a piece of fabric. "How are you going to work together?"

I've thought about that. It's one of the first things that popped into my mind after Tyler left my bedroom that first night. I know the chances of the two of us staying together are slim. We work in a stressful environment, we live in Manhattan. Temptation is everywhere. I'm the center of Tyler's attention right now but that may change. If it does, it's going to make working together awkward.

"I can handle it, Soph," I say assuredly. "I'm smart enough to know how to separate business from pleasure."

"I don't believe anyone who says they can do that."

"Why not?"

"Emotions don't disappear between nine and five." She sits back down in the chair next to her sewing machine. "In your case, noon until midnight, or whenever you work, I can't keep track."

I laugh. My schedule changes week-to-week but for the most part, I'm at the restaurant for at least nine or ten hours a day. I go in early sometimes because I know at some point that it's bound to be rewarded. Not in sexual favors but in opportunity.

"I like the job I have," I confess as I hold a small container of pins for her. "If this ends tomorrow, I can honestly say that it won't change how I cook. I'll still do what I need to do to impress Tyler and the other chefs."

"What if he fucks someone else you work with? What if you see him kissing another woman?" She reaches for a pin and then carefully pierces the material. "Are you going to be just as good then?"

I want to be. I'll have to be. My job at Nova is too important to me. Maybe it's more important than what's happening between Tyler and me.

***

"Have you ever slept with anyone who works for you?" I ask before I take a bite of the food he prepared for me.

"I've fucked you. Does that count?"

The smile on his face is teasing, as is the tone of his voice. I was wary to delve into this when he invited me to his apartment for lunch. It's Sunday. I'm not working today and the thought of spending at least part of the day with him is exciting. I accepted his invitation without considering that it complicates things even more. I'm in his home. He's been in mine.

"Besides me?" I cringe inwardly when I ask, knowing that it reopens a door I want closed. I don't want him to bring up the fact that I was sleeping with Brendon while I worked with him. We haven't talked about him in weeks. I want to keep it that way.

"I have." He takes a sip of water. "Why?"

I'm tempted to ask the obvious question. I don't really want to know if he's fucked two, three or ten of the women he's worked with. His number doesn’t matter. Mine isn't that high but it's enough to know that he's more experienced than I am. He's comfortable with his body and with mine. He's brought pleasure to a lot of women, or if that's not the case, there have been one or two very lucky women beneath him in the past.

"What happened when the personal relationship ended?"

He stops eating to stare at me. He runs his tongue over his bottom teeth before the fork drops from his hand onto the plate. "Are you ending this, Cadence?"

With shaking fingers, I push my hair away from the side of my face. "I don't want to."

He reaches to scoop my hand into his, his eyes searching mine. "Why are you asking me then? What is it? Tell me."

My ass fidgets on my chair. My body's movements a reflection of what I feel inside. "I'm worried."

"About?" He pushes his chair back, his hand squeezing mine. "What are you worried about?"

I exhale audibly. "Can we handle each other if the personal part of our relationship ends? Will I still have my job?"

"You'll have it." He pulls my fingers to his mouth for a soft kiss. "I respect you as a chef, Cadence. There will always be a place for you on my team. "

"What are you doing?" His voice is raspy as he walks into the dream kitchen of his apartment with a smile on his face. "I go to take a call and you're giving yourself the grand tour."

I laugh as I tuck my smartphone in the pocket of my jeans before I wipe a paper towel over the counter one last time. "I wanted a refill on my water. I came to fill it up and I spilled it everywhere."

He glances at the half-empty glass of water on the counter in front of me. "Were you on a call too?"

"I wasn't," I mutter as I look down at the floor.

"I saw your phone in your hand." He gestures toward my jeans before he moves forward to pick up a tablet that was on the counter.

I stare at the tablet watching how tightly he grips it. "I'm sorry that I got that wet. I dried the cover."

"It's fine," he says curtly. "Who were you talking to?"

This feels like an interrogation and suddenly the words he spoke when I first arrived about making myself feel at home seem hollow.

"I was sending a text message to my mom. She likes if I check in with her every Sunday."

"You're all checked in?"

"I'm good to go." I nod. "What do you want to do now?"

His lips curve into a grin. "I want to eat you for dessert but I need to drop by the restaurant."

I take another drink from the glass. "Is it something I can help with? I can go down there with you."

"Actually," he begins before his eyes drop to his tablet. "I'm going to meet with Darrell to go over two new menu items we're going to try out."

"What are they?" I reach forward to brush his forearm. "I'd love to hear about them."

"I only share new items with the executive staff."

The words hurt, even if they shouldn’t. It's a work issue. I'm a junior chef. I'm so far down the ranks of the brass of Nova that I won't know the new items until I'm rounded up with the rest of the kitchen and wait staff to taste them the day before they debut on the menu. That's how it works at Tyler's restaurant.

"I understand," I say quietly. "I'll head home."

"I'll call you later, Cadence." He brushes his lips across my forehead as he leads me to the door with his hand on the small of my back. "Lunch was great."

Lunch was great. Everything after it wasn't.

***

"It bothers you that he doesn't trust you. Is that it?" Sophia shoots me a sympathetic frown. "I don't blame you, Cadence. It would piss me off too."

"It's not that I'm pissed off." I stretch out on my bed in the blue sundress Sophia asked me to try on. "I'm going to throw something at you, but don't think I'm crazy. Promise me you won't."

"I promise." She crosses her legs as she sits on the edge of my bed.

"Lunch went well," I begin. "We talked about what would happen if we ended things."

She plays with a loose thread on my comforter. "What did he say would happen?"

I don't hesitate before I answer. "He said that I'd still have my job. He kind of seemed upset by the idea of things ending between us."

"Upset how?"

"He asked if I wanted to end it."

"What did you say?"

I cock both brows. "I told him no because I don't."

"But?" She twirls her finger in the air. "Get to the seeming crazy part."

I smile. "His phone rang after he told me my job was secure whether or not we're sleeping together."

"Who was on the phone?"

"The restaurant," I answer quickly. "It was Darrell. He's a head chef. Tyler greeted him by name."
"It's not my favorite name." She plays with a strand of her hair. "I wouldn't call it crazy though."

"You're not funny, Soph."

"I am."

"He leaves to talk to Darrell and I go to the kitchen to get more water." I roll to my side so I'm facing her. "I send my mom a text to tell her I'm still living and breathing and he walks back in and everything is different."

"How so?"

"He closed up. He started asking me a bunch of questions about why I was in the kitchen and who I was talking to on my phone."

She glances at my smartphone on my desk. "Do you think he thought you were talking to Brendon?"

"There's more," I ignore her question and continue, "his tablet was in the kitchen, on the counter near where I was standing. He has it at the restaurant too sometimes. Maribel told me a few weeks ago that he makes notes on it when he's cooking. All of his recipes are on there."

"Oh shit." She leans forward, her hand jumping to her chin. "He thought you were looking through it? Is that it?"

"It sure as hell seemed like it."

"He's paranoid, Den." She swings her legs over the side of my bed. "You can't change that. A man will trust you or he won't. If he doesn't, I wouldn't waste my time putting any of my trust in him."