Deliciously Sinful (11 page)

She really was crazy. How in God’s name could she be this attracted to Nick Avalon? She didn’t even like him.

He leaned his hip against the counter. “Aw, but you don’t want to really kill me, do you?”

“You have no idea.”

“I don’t think you want to kill me. I think you want to fuck me.”

Flinching, she stepped back. “Don’t talk like that,” she said in a low voice.

“Why? Are you telling me it’s not true? Are you telling me you don’t want to rip off my clothes, get on top of me, and fill yourself with my cock?”

“How could you even say those words? Your
girlfriend
was just here!”

“Sherry?” He laughed. “Oh, she would never have me.”

Her stomach lurched. “So you want
me
since you can’t have
her
?”

For a second, she wanted to vomit.

He simply stared at her. “No, Phoebe. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“Oh my God! You’re the one making me crazy now.”

“Good. Now you know how I feel. So go ahead. Tell me what it’s like. Tell me what it is you want from me.”

What was she doing? Her entire body was trembling. She really didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“You want to know what I want?” He was nearly yelling now.

“Yes.” She probably didn’t want to know the answer, but she had to ask anyway.

He came at her.

Somehow, she was ready.

When his mouth hit hers, she was already open. When he lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Tongues, lips, teeth. Legs, thighs, chests. All colliding, coming together in something so intense, it was nearly violent.

“This is what I want,” he said. “You. Now.”

“Yes.” She was panting, breathing so hard she could barely talk. “Yes, Nick.”

As he carried her, she clenched her thighs around his hips as he walked out of the kitchen. Kissing her, he continued down the hallway. He managed to get them into the large restroom at the end of the corridor and then he kicked the door shut behind them.

“Nick…”

His lips silenced her. He picked her up and used the weight of his body to hold her against the back of the door. Her shoes fell off. He tugged up her skirt, and she felt his jeans on the naked flesh of her inner thighs.

Somewhere in the back of her head, it occurred to her that she was pushed up against the door of the bathroom while her chef ravished her. That had to be bad. Had to.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Wait…what are we doing?”

“Oh, right. See, I’m about to fuck you.” He pressed his erection against her damp sex, but stopped kissing her. She cried out in protest. She needed him to be kissing her. She needed his mouth, hot and intense, on her lips.

“First I’ll rip off your panties.” He gave said panties a tug. “Then I’m going to take out my dick and drive it into your pussy.” He pushed against her sex, and she gasped. Loudly.

Pulling away, he oh-so-innocently looked her in the eye. “You want me to stop?”

“Oh, God…” He felt so good
right there
, between her legs. She could feel his cock, so hard. It jerked against her, and she melted even more. Her sex was swollen, sore with want. Ever since that night in his kitchen, she’d wanted this. Wanted it so badly, she knew that she wouldn’t say no.

She ground against him. “Hell, no. Don’t stop.”

“I didn’t think so.”

The sound of her panties being torn echoed off the walls. He tossed them aside, and she watched the white cotton fabric as it hit the ground. Yeah, Nick did to her self-restraint exactly what he’d just done to her underwear. He’d torn it off and thrown it away.

And so she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Nick. Take off your pants.”

N
ick didn’t need any further invitation. In fact, he was so lost in his desire for Phoebe that he barely needed any invitation at all. If Phoebe had actually wanted him to stop, it would have been incredibly difficult. His cock would have said it was impossible.

Thank God, she hadn’t said no.

He yanked her T-shirt over her head, and his gaze fell on her luscious breasts. “Fuck, Phoebe.”

She stilled.

He saw the vulnerability in her eyes, and he kissed her gently on the lips. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked.

“I know I’m probably not like the typical girls you see…not what you’re used to.”

Her words, and the look on her face, caused a tiny hurt in his chest. He kissed the top of her cleavage and felt a shudder go through her.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’re not like most of the girls I’ve been with.”

She started to struggle, but he held her tight.

“You’re real.”

She laughed bitterly. “Real what?”

“Beautiful.”

That stopped her. So the bossy, confident Phoebe Mayle was just as susceptible to compliments as the rest of the female population.

The thing was, Nick realized he meant it when he whispered against her smooth, soft skin, “It’s true.” He lifted her breast from the cup of her bra. “So beautiful.”

“Stop it.”

Not this again. He looked up. “Stop?”

“Saying those things…things you don’t mean. You don’t understand. I don’t care what you say.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. Now come on.” She wiggled against his groin, and he stifled a groan.

She brought his mouth to hers once again. He kissed her; he touched her. He crushed his pounding erection against her naked pussy.

“I need to be inside you, Phoebe.”

“Yes.” She continued to kiss him, and he felt desire in her complete abandon. And it was that abandon that fueled his lust.

If she was surprised he had a condom in his pocket, she didn’t show it. But, hey. It was habit for him. Back in L.A., he’d never known when he’d need one. Now he held it in his teeth as he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock.

She took the condom from his mouth, ripped it open, and handed him the rubber.

“Thank God you have one,” she said.

He smiled. “I can be a useful fellow when need be.”

He held her against the door as he reached between them and slid the condom on.

She raised her brows. “Seems you’ve done this before.”

“I like to be prepared. What can I say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything, Nick.”

“Really?” He pressed against her sex, and she gasped. “How about, do you want me to fuck you?”

She clenched his shoulders. “Do you really have to ask?”

“No.” He thrust into her. She was so wet. He slid in so easily, so deeply…

“Uh!” She threw her head back. “Yes, Nick.”

“Fuck.” He withdrew and entered again. “You feel so fucking good. So tight.”

“Yes…”

He could see it in her eyes; she was so turned on by him. Her green eyes had gone dark, emerald.

“So good…” He barely knew what he was saying. Everything centered around being in her. Fucking her. Feeling her.

Her legs, wrapped around him, were trembling. But she clung to him, positioning her body just right so he could fit inside her perfectly.

It felt too good. He could already feel his climax building. The intensity of fucking this woman overcame him.

When he looked into her eyes, he saw that she was staring at him. He couldn’t look away; he could just withdraw and enter, again and again, gazing into her eyes. Listening to the little cries that escaped her lips each time he filled her.

He felt her come. Her pussy clenched around him, and she clung to him everywhere, so hard—as if she were holding on for dear life.

It undid him.

He drove into her one last time as his own climax tore through him. He shouted—actually shouted—her name.

He was pretty damn sure he’d never done that before.

Finally, he came back down to earth. His heart was pounding. His T-shirt was damp from his own sweat. His head was…

Fucked.

He pulled out of her and placed Phoebe on her feet. Silence screamed through the small room as reality set in. He stared at the concrete floor as he zipped his pants, focusing on one crack that spread the span of a few feet. That’s what his chest felt like. Cracked.

He racked his brain for a witty retort, something to save him. But his head was blank. He could still smell her, feel her stickiness on his cock. He could still hear her…her cries of pleasure.

“I gotta go.” He spun on his heel and charged for the door.

Her eyes were wide and questioning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…” He ran one hand through his hair. “I have to finish cleaning up the kitchen.”

She bit her lip. Damn it. Just the sight of her little pink tongue on her mouth caused a new jolt of lust to shoot through him.

He yanked open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Phoebe stared after him. What the hell had just happened? Other than the fact that she’d just had sex in her own restaurant. Yeah, that was something she’d never thought she’d do. But even more confusing? Nick Avalon running away from her after the deed was done.

Because that’s exactly what he’d done. He’d run away.

She went to the mirror. “Nice,” she muttered. Of course, she was a total disaster. Her hair was sticking out in a brown, kinky mess. The only makeup she wore was some mascara, and that was pretty much a dark mess under her eyes. And her lips were dry and swollen from the intensity of kissing Nick.

Shrugging, she went about trying to put herself back together.

Why had he run? The look in his eyes had seemed downright scared. That made absolutely no sense. What would freak him out so much? He’d already seduced her with a bowl of pudding and spanked her with a whisk. What had freaked him out?

Who knew? One thing she’d learned about Nick was that he wasn’t as predictable as she’d originally thought. That sarcastic nonchalance he wore around him like armor wasn’t as thick as she’d first assessed. She’d seen some cracks. She’d seen something more than the smoking, tequila-drinking, conceited bad boy who’d shown up just weeks ago in his great big Hummer.

After he’d put her on her feet, she’d expected some mocking remark. She’d totally anticipated his giving her some flippant comment and walking out.

What she hadn’t expected was to see those cracks in his armor. But she had. And they left her more confused than ever.

T
he scream caught in Phoebe’s throat.

Her hand on her pounding heart, she sank back into the pine chair and tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine…” Phoebe looked across the kitchen to Sherry, who she’d totally forgotten was staying in her house.

In her flowing white-satin robe, Sherry had wafted into the kitchen like some kind of ghost. Phoebe had been staring into her mug of cold chamomile tea, pondering what to do about the situation with Nick, when the apparition—
Sherry
—had come in.

Sherry looked at the cup clutched in Phoebe’s hand. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Of course she minded. The last thing Phoebe wanted to do was make chitchat at 2:00 a.m. with one of Nick’s exes, who had her widowed brother-in-law giving her puppy-dog eyes. But Phoebe said, “Of course not. Would you like some tea?”

Sherry pulled out a chair and floated into it. “That would be lovely.”

After a second, Phoebe stood. “Right. Let me get it for you.” What? Did the woman think she was running some sort of bed-and-breakfast here? The expectation loaded in Sherry’s question made Phoebe’s hands clench with irritation. She gave the other woman a once-over.

And why did she have to look so elegant? It was two in the morning, for God’s sake. Like some thirties film-and-screen actress, Sherry sat there in her shiny white nightclothes. Her blonde hair was brushed into a chignon (a chignon! at 2:00 a.m.!), and Phoebe swore the woman was wearing eye makeup.

Maybe she thought Nick was going to ring her up for a late-night booty call.

Maybe Nick was already making pudding. Creamy, chocolate pudding, all mixed up and ready to spread on Sherry’s flawless pale skin.

The woman lived in Southern California, for goodness’ sake. Shouldn’t she be all tanned and wrinkly? But
no-o-o-o
. This Sherry had skin as perfect as an untouchable white cloud.

Shaking her head, Phoebe pulled out another mug and turned on the gas stove to heat the kettle. She wore her same old flannel nightgown and old beat-up slippers. Her stomach turned. This woman—Sherry—was what Nick was used to. So why had he gone after Phoebe? It made no sense.

“He doesn’t make sense.”

Phoebe nearly dropped the box of chamomile tea she’d just lifted out of a basket on the counter.

Glancing at Sherry, Phoebe said, “What?”

Sherry gave her an impish smile. “Nick.”

“W-what makes you say that?”

She smiled. “He’s just a bit confusing at times.”

Remembering the way Nick had split after their earlier romp in the restroom, Phoebe had to laugh. “Yeah. I’m getting that about him.”

Sherry rested her chin on her hand. “He’s afraid.”

“Afraid? He seems so confident.” But then she remembered the look on his face as he’d fled from her.

“It’s just a front, a facade,” Sherry said.

Phoebe placed the tea bag in a mug and filled the cup with hot water. “I imagine he needs to be strong for his job.”

Sherry looked thoughtful. “There’s definitely that aspect of it. But there’s more.”

Phoebe crossed the kitchen and set the steaming cup of tea on the table. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to say too much. I mean, you are his boss and everything.”

“Right,” Phoebe said, slowly taking a seat opposite Sherry. There was that little fact of her employing the subject of their conversation. But she wanted to know more about him.

She wanted to know everything.

Shaking her head, Phoebe tried not to pry.

And didn’t succeed. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” She rubbed her fingertip across a scratch in the table. “But. If there’s something you think would help me do my job better…please, feel free.” Right, Pheebs.
You want to know all about Nick so you can do your job better.
Would Sherry buy it?

And anyway, she didn’t want to know! “Never mind.”

“No, it’s okay. Anything to help you handle Nick.” Sherry paused and then said, “I’ll just say he’s not as tough as he puts on. He’s had a…”

Phoebe looked up. “Yes?” she encouraged. “A what?”

“A hard life. He’s been through a lot.”

“A hard life? It seemed like he had it all in L.A. He makes it sound like he had the perfect life.”

Sherry sipped her tea. “On the surface, he did. He had a high-profile job, a great income, and any girl he wanted. And I do mean
any
girl.”

Phoebe coughed. “Right. Any girl. Great job. So what was the problem?” She really did not need to hear all about Nick’s escapades and his perfect girls.

“It was superficial. He lives his life trying to get out of his own head. Alcohol, parties, sex…It’s all a distraction so he doesn’t have to deal with what’s in here.” Sherry touched one red fingertip to her temple.

Phoebe stared at Sherry. “What do you mean?” And was he having sex with Phoebe just because he needed the distraction?

Sherry shook her head. “I’ve already said too much. I guess what I was really getting at is, I think this move has been good for him.”

Phoebe laughed. “All he does is complain. He’s bored here. He hates the people. Heck, he hates everything about it. I have no idea why he took this job.” She took a large gulp of cold tea. “Other than the fact that no one else would hire him, of course.”

“You’re right about that. No one wanted him. And I think that was the hardest thing for him to handle. Being dismissed so easily…It ripped him apart.”

“But he’s amazing at what he does!”

Sherry shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. There are a lot of talented chefs in that town, always someone ready to take your place. Yes, Nick is good at what he does. But he doesn’t know how to leash himself. And it all went to his head.”

Phoebe continued tracing the line on the table. Finally, she looked up into Sherry’s big blue eyes. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

Sherry smiled, a small spread of her perfect lips. “Because I don’t want Nick to fuck this up.” She waved around the kitchen. “This is good for him. It’s forcing him to take a break from all that craziness. It’s making him get some perspective. Get back on track.”

Phoebe glanced up sharply. “What do you mean, get
back
on track?”

Sherry shrugged one satin-clad shoulder. “You know. Get his life back in order.”

“And then what?” For some reason this conversation was making something in Phoebe go cold. “And then what happens?”

Sherry’s blue eyes searched hers. “I…I don’t know.” Picking up her still-full mug, she stood. “I’m sorry. It’s late. I’ve been driving all day.” She laughed, but it sounded falsely light. “I never know when to shut up.”

Phoebe watched the other woman take the damp tea bag out of the mug and toss it into the garbage. Why had this conversation left her feeling as if she were missing some piece of the puzzle?

“Sherry, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Sherry dumped the amber liquid into the sink. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I was just trying to say I think this entire experience is good for Nick.” She punctuated her statement with a smile that Phoebe was sure was meant to be reassuring.

It wasn’t.

Phoebe stood. “This experience? Like does he think this is summer camp or something? Are his parents going to pick him up at the end of three months?”

She didn’t miss the way Sherry’s shoulders clenched at Phoebe’s statement. But then, turning, Sherry’s big blue eyes looked worried. “No, of course not. Please, don’t read too much into what I said. I honestly don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Phoebe didn’t understand why panic was rushing through her. She pushed the chair she’d been sitting in under the table. “I just want to know. Are you saying Nick is simply here on some sort of hiatus?” Phoebe knew their contract was a year at least. It took a lot of work to train someone; she didn’t want to do this again in less than a year. She’d barely gotten to the point where she felt she could leave Nick in the café without any supervision.

And it was more. There was a part of her that had been opening up to him. Starting to trust him. Starting to like him. Not romantically, of course, but she was gaining glimpses into the good side of him, and she didn’t want it to be false. If he really was planning on simply using her and the café—the thought made her heart hurt.

Phoebe said, “I just want to know if he has something else planned. I mean, I’ve been spending a lot of time training him. To, you know, run the kitchen. Be the chef at the restaurant. To learn the fixed-price menu on Saturday night…” She sounded pathetic. She sounded needy. She sounded like all the things she hated.

Sherry was backing out of the kitchen, her satin gown whispering against the hardwood floor as she glided away in retreat. “I know you have. Like I said, I don’t know what I’m saying. Just forget everything. Nick is doing great here!”

She sounded so enthusiastic that Phoebe wanted to vomit.

“So, thanks, Phoebe. I’m just going back to bed now.”

Phoebe put her hands on her hips and faked a smile. “You do that.”

“Okay. Yeah, I will.” Sherry nodded. “Oh, and thanks again. You know, for the tea.”

“Anytime,” Phoebe muttered.
Yeah, any time you’re up in the wee hours of the morning, I’ll be here! Just waiting to make you some organic chamomile!

Still walking backward, Sherry said, “It was really good. The tea, that is.”

“Thanks. It’s, um, organic.”

“I can tell! Okay, then. Night.”

“Night.”

And then Sherry was gone, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway like some sort of gorgeous blonde phantom.

Phoebe stared after her. In the quiet of the kitchen, she replayed their conversation. Her head swam with everything Sherry had said. Obviously, she knew Nick wouldn’t be in Redbolt forever. But was he just here biding time? Was he simply putting up with them until something better came along?

Was he putting up with
her
until something better came along?

No. He wouldn’t do that. Phoebe put the cups in the dishwasher and shuffled out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and back to her room.

Still, she couldn’t stop the questions going through her head. Why had Sherry come here? Why had she appeared in the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning to put these ideas in her head?

Then another thought occurred to her. Phoebe did not like Steve’s response to Sherry, not one bit. Sure, she’d hoped Steve would eventually find a partner, someone to replace Judy, Phoebe’s sister. Phoebe’d always thought the phrase “God brings his angels home early” was definitely appropriate when it came to her sister. Judy had been kindhearted, generous—always welcoming people into their home for supper. She’d carried Jesse in a sling for two years and had loved her unconditionally. Her death had been a tragedy, a loss for the entire community. No one would ever replace her.

Especially not some starlet from Southern California.

Phoebe’s stomach turned at the idea of someone like Sherry coming into the family.

He’s only just met her tonight. You’re being ridiculous.

Yeah, the idea of getting worried when they’d only met the woman once might seem a bit preposterous. However, since Judy had died five years ago, Steve had never,
not once
, responded to a woman like Phoebe had seen him do tonight.

With Sherry. Nick’s girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever she was.

It was amazing how one person could have such an effect on so many of Phoebe’s emotions. A Buddhist quote she had printed out and pinned up in her office flashed across her mind:

Harmony. She needed to keep her family in harmony, and suddenly everything seemed anything but harmonious. And why? Because of Nick and Sherry? Phoebe laughed bitterly in the darkness. They weren’t family—why was she allowing them to affect her? And why was Sherry sleeping under their roof, when she saw the effect she’d had on Steve?

Because Phoebe had acted on fear and jealousy. She knew these emotions were unproductive and damaging, and she had the power and wisdom to overcome them.

So far she’d failed at following Zen instead of flying off the handle. She’d allowed the negative thoughts and emotions to guide her decisions, and she had to let them go.

Nick had Jesse cooking meat. And despite how she’d defended Steve, she did know he wouldn’t be happy about it. Even if Phoebe thought Jesse should have the choice of cooking whatever she wanted, she did know it would upset her brother-in-law, whether he admitted it or not. And Jesse probably hadn’t noticed, but Phoebe had observed her niece watching Nick like he was some sort of hero. Her niece was blossoming, and a true love of cooking, of food, was surfacing in a way Phoebe couldn’t deny. Jesse hadn’t had quite that spark in her eye when she was in the café before Nick had arrived. However, every day Phoebe watched Jesse’s skill improve, and her confidence grow.

A thought occurred to her. Maybe if Nick did leave, perhaps Jesse would want to take over the café. The thought resonated in Phoebe’s mind, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Jesse was going to be a responsible, smart woman, capable of being in charge of a business. She’d been working for Phoebe, at the farm and at the café, for years.

The more she pondered the thought, the happier Phoebe became. It was perfect, really. She’d allow Nick to train Jesse in the hopes Jesse would one day take over the café. Then if Nick left (and she knew one day he surely would), the Green Leaf would be successful and still kept within the family. Harmonious.

But, at the moment, nothing was harmonious. She’d been shoving questions and uncertainties to the back of her mind ever since Nick had arrived. She hadn’t wanted to seriously consider them, but that damn blonde bombshell had thrown them in her face.