Authors: Maya James
Oh my
God—
he's the chef!
He's too fucking cute.
The
mostly white, mildly used apron slides over his head and he ties the waist snug
around his middle. "Coconut shrimp sound good for a start?"
"Absolutely,"
I reply, almost nervously. "Do you need any help?"
"No.
I've got this," he says as he pours oil into a skillet and turns on the
heat.
I watch
him work; coating the fantail shrimp, frying them to a golden brown. I'm
impressed, there's no point in lying. He had a mango sauce all ready and we
began munching while he made parmesan crusted pork chops, risotto, and green
beans seasoned with rosemary and thyme.
At
least once, every woman should experience having a gorgeous man in an expensive
suit throw on an apron and cook her a dinner. I'm just mush by the time he's
done, and I don't know if I want to eat, cry, or spread the food all over his
body and lick it off. If I could, I'd do all three. There was such pride in his
face, and his attention never once swayed from me. His loving glances linger on
me each time long after his eyes have moved on. If he could, Justin would spend
his life doing everything for me, which makes me want to do everything for him.
He does
let me help carry everything to the table, and he turns the lights down so that
we can enjoy the candles and the lights from the tree. It was everything he'd
promised earlier. That isn't even fair—it's much more than he'd promised. The
simplicity of it is beautiful, creating emotions that I don't have words for.
I'm officially overwhelmed.
It
doesn't hurt that he nailed the food; it’s absolutely delicious. I eat and watch
his face fill with boyish charm and wonder as he stares at the lights during
our conversation. What it must be like for him, after years of not celebrating
the holidays, of having no one to be with, is beyond me. I'm here for him now,
and he for me, and he looks adorable by candle.
Junior's
cheesecake is our desert, of course. We sprawl out on the floor under the tree
with the entire box between us, no plates, just a fork each.
"I
don't know how safe this is," I tell him. "There's nothing stopping
us from eating the entire cake in one shot."
He
laughs, his granite jaw working magically under his beautiful lips. "Screw
it, it's Christmas."
"I'm
still in shock that you cooked that dinner. If I didn't watch you do it, I
would not have believed it."
"I'll
hope that's a compliment and that you liked it," he chuckles.
For a
moment I am hypnotized by the twinkle in his green eyes. "I loved it! It
was amazing, and so are you. I can't believe you can cook on top of everything
else. Or are you a one trick pony in the kitchen?"
More of
his laughter. I could never get enough of that. "I'm not too bad. That was
my fallback," he says.
"Fallback?"
"Yeah,"
he replies seriously. "You know, in case the blackmailing and espionage
gig didn't work out."
There's
my fucking snort!
Justin
looks at me endearingly, as if he enjoys my terrible laugh, as if he lives to
hear it. Maybe that's all he really needs, my happiness. All I need is for him
to look at me the way he does, the way he is right now, for the rest of my
life.
"Actually,
it wasn't a fallback. After my rough start as a kid, I joined the CIA to lift
myself out of the hole I'd dug."
"
The
CIA?" I breathe, astonished that I didn't know this already.
"Absolutely.
The
Culinary Institute of America, right here in New York," he announces
with a wink.
"The
CIA," I repeat, giggling harshly. "That's clever."
He
laughs along with me. "It was my one shot at the time, and I was enjoying
it, but I didn't get to finish. My past came back for me and it opened up an
opportunity, a door that I didn't know was there."
"Panther?"
I ask even though I'm sure of it.
Justin
nods. "That's when all this began." There's a mix of pride and
disgust in his eyes for a moment.
I see
there is more behind this story, and I want to know what it is. My curiosity is
taking off on its own. "Tell me," I urge. "I want to know
everything about you, Justin."
"It's
not pretty. This stuff is never as glamorous as they make it look in the
movies." His eyes tell me to be sure before I ask again.
"I
don't care—I want to know."
Justin
shovels some cheesecake into his mouth. "A friend of mine from juvie was
this little computer geek who got in trouble for some computer hacking. I took
him under my wing since I felt bad for him getting beat up all the time; he was
just a little thing, but lots of imagination, always thinking. He'd hacked into
the NYPD's system to change some records for some friends of his. He got
caught, but they weren't able to figure out what changes he made, so he counted
it as a win. From that, he got mixed up with a cop doing some side
investigative work. They stumbled onto a human trafficking ring that was much
bigger than they could handle, than they were prepared for. They kidnapped his
partner without knowing that he was a cop, and let my buddy go, told him he had
two hours to bring a girl to swap for his friend—payment for the trouble they
caused, they told him."
"He
came to you for help?" I ask, enthralled in his story already.
Justin
nodded. "I told him it didn't matter whether he brought someone back or
not, they were going to kill them all—especially if they found out one of them
was a police officer."
Justin
shoveled another huge bite of the cheesecake into his mouth.
"What
did you do?" I begged.
He
shrugs his shoulders as if it should be nothing. "I picked up Lena on our
way back to them, told him he was going to have to talk his way into getting me
inside with them. My buddy told them that I could get any girl they wanted; and
the young, hot, black girl was my offering to get in. It worked long enough to
get all three of us in."
I take
another bite of the cake myself, my eyes fixed on Justin, hanging on every
word. "What happened then? How did you get out of there with Lena?"
"Not
just Lena, I got out of there with her, my buddy, the cop, and a woman we found
locked in one of the rooms."
"Holy
shit!
How?
" I croak.
"We
were more organized, more prepared for what was about to happen. Like I said,
it's not always like the movies. These guys weren't trained assassins carrying
semi-automatics on their sides. They were drugged up pieces of trash trading
women for money so they could afford their next fix. As soon as we were in,
Lena and I each shot one, and the last one was so scared he forgot his gun and
was begging for his life when I shot him. I put my gun in the hand of the one
Lena shot. She put hers on one of my guys. We took the guns they had in their
pants so that it wasn't an obvious setup, and then we got everyone out. That
night, three known drug addicts burnt up in a fire they started during a gun
fight they had with each other."
"Holy
shit!" I breathed. "I'm amazed everyone was okay, and that poor
girl."
"She's
fine, took a while to recover, but she's fine now. They all are," he said,
sounding more eager to talk about who he saved rather than who he killed.
That's probably a better part to focus on, even for someone as strong as
Justin.
"You're
still in touch with them?" I ask.
"My
buddy, he developed the code for all of our surveillance applications, and he's
our current director of IT. The cop is now a chief, and on our payroll. The
girl, I keep tabs on her through her father. Turned out he was an extremely
wealthy man that was doing everything in his power to find his daughter. He was
very curious to know where she had been, and
exactly
how she got away.
And he had the means to satisfy his curiosity."
"I
can't say I blame him," I said, tossing in another mouthful of cheesecake.
"No,
not at all," he said, suddenly fixing his burning eyes on me. It's like
they rip away every protective layer I have, every shield, and leave me exposed
and natural. He sees
me
.
"If
someone took you from me right now," he started, "there is nothing I
wouldn't do; no place I wouldn't go, no stone I wouldn't overturn—no one I
wouldn't threaten or kill to find you."
I
believe him, every fucking word of it, and a single tear drops from my eye from
the ferocity of his love. I wipe it away, upset at my lack of control. I'm usually
tougher than this.
"I
was green back then and vulnerable, so he found me easily. I knew right away
that he didn't pose a danger in knowing the truth, so I told him exactly what
happened. He was impressed and grateful. I made a friend that day; he became
the first investor in Panther and our longest client."
I'm
amazed and getting stuffed. I drop my fork into the box.
"I
don't know how I got on that subject—on Christmas Eve," he laughs lightly.
"I think I was just telling you how I learned to cook." He puts his
fork down next to mine.
"I'm
glad you did," I say with a smile. "I'm proud of the way you started
this."
My hand
moves to his forearm, gently playing with the rolled cuff of his sleeve.
"Today you did great. It truly was a wonderful Christmas Eve."
Justin
smiles oddly while the lights of the tree gently reflect off his skin and in
his eyes.
"What
was that look about?" I ask.
"Today
was only half of the holiday. I'm not done yet, and this evening it isn't over
until I say it is."
The
rolling thunder in his voice captivates me. I know what's coming next, and I
welcome it. Fuck it, I'm not just going to welcome it, I'm going to reach out
and get it and bring it to me.
My
deliberate hand moves from his sleeve to the collar of his shirt, balling it up
in my fist as I pull him toward me. I feel him resist. "I'll rip your damn
shirt," I growl.
"I
don't give a shit," he laughs. "I'll get more. I love the way you
look in these lights. I love the way you look when you know I'm about to take
you. That wanting hunger so full of frustrated desire. I love to hold you right
here on the edge and watch your beauty explode, taking over my mind, my world.
Go ahead and rip my shirt, I don't care. You're under my tree, so clearly you
are my Christmas present, and I'm going to take my time unwrapping you, opening
you as carefully and deliberately as I feel like."
A throb
deep between my legs demands attention and I tug at his shirt wickedly. The
fabric threatens to give, but I do manage to pull myself close enough to hook
one of my legs around one of his, guiding his thigh into my begging crotch.
When I feel the pressure of his leg, a breathy, uncontrolled moan ruptures from
my throat.
Justin's
hand falls on my cheek as he kisses me, softly at first, a gentle press of his
lips to mine. They slowly part and I feel just the tender tip of his tongue
tickle the inside of my lips. His face presses harder as his excitement builds,
and his tongue moves deeper into mine, sliding along my accommodating lips and
tongue.
There's
a rough tugging at my shirt, his hands opening the buttons one by one, ripping
the bottom free from my pants. He unwraps me just as he promised, slowly
maneuvering me as he wants until there is nothing left to cover me.
The
throb between my legs has grown to a mild volcanic eruption. He works on removing
his own clothes, whipping his shirt off his huge shoulders. I can't resist
grabbing them and digging my nails into his muscles, scratching my way down his
chest. When he gets to his pants he throws them to the couch while I stare
hungrily at his hard cock.
I
squeeze both hands around it before he can stop me, pulling it toward my face.
Once it touches my soft cheek, he doesn't have the strength to resist. I pull
it across my lips like a bow across the strings of a violin. My eager tongue
darts out to the tight skin of its head, licking it strenuously before I devour
it. I suck on it hard while both hands massage his shaft in separate
directions.
"Good
Christ!" he rumbles as he glances down at me on my knees in front of him,
catching me looking up at him to enjoy the pleasure on his face.
After I
remove one hand, I plunge down on him, putting as much of him as I can fit into
my mouth. Then I let his wet flesh slide out, careful to keep my teeth away,
using the strong suction of my lips. My free hand feels the muscles of his leg
flexing and straining for stability.
Justin
lets me suck on him longer than he usually does, lost in the sensations, but
eventually he does stop me. "Enough," he growls. "I can't take
anymore." He folds me back down to the floor, pinning me there under him
while being careful of his size. His fiery mouth discovers my neck and I feel
him bite gently on it.
I can
only hold on to him, barely even that in this position. My fingers try to
anchor into his arms, but he is a seething beast playing with its meal, working
his tongue down my chest until it locates one of my puckered nipples. He swirls
several heavy circles around my taunt areola and then sucks it deep into his
mouth. He's not really careful with his teeth, but that is his intention.
Chills radiate out from my chest like glitter spreading around my body.