Love at First Bite (Book 1 Just a Little Taste Series) (4 page)

“You may want to put some more sunscreen on before you toast. Are you hungry?” Her stomach grumbled. She realized she hadn't eaten since yesterday and was famished.

She rolled over. “I'm starved.” She quickly pulled the t-shirt back over her head while he set out the contents of the picnic basket. He pulled out a bottle of champagne, along with crusty bread, fruit, and cheese. She picked up a bunch of grapes and popped a few in her mouth. “Mmm. So good.”

He looked at her with those sinfully dark eyes. “I'm glad you like them.” He popped the cork on the champagne. “Would you like some?”

She toyed with the grapes in her hand. “Yes, that would be nice.” She'd never been a big drinker, but she felt like having some now. She felt totally relaxed. He handed her a flute of champagne, and she downed it in one gulp.

“You may want to slow down a little, Cupcake.” He refilled her flute, but only half full this time.

“Why? Are you going to take advantage of a drunk girl?” She sipped the champagne slower this time.

“I don't take advantage. I would want you totally coherent and begging me to touch you. Remember our deal.” He sipped his champagne nonchalantly.

She smiled. “You already broke our deal. I remember feeling a very firm member of your anatomy a bit ago when you pulled me to you. Therefore, we have to renegotiate the deal. You touched me, before I begged. This time I get to make the rules.” She felt the effect of the champagne, slightly making her feel warm and languid.
Who is this girl? I like her,
she thought to herself.

He arched his eyebrow. “What rules would those be, Cupcake?”

She tapped her finger against her full lips. “First, I have some questions.”

He leaned back, nibbling a slice of cheese. “Shoot.”

“What is a vamp dick?” She took a bite of bread.

***

He coughed. Cheese was caught in his throat. “Vamp dick?” He managed to wheeze out.

She nodded, sipping her champagne. “Yeah, vamp dick. You said last night that I must have ridden several vamp dicks and my mind was messed up.” She raised her eyebrow and looked at him pointedly.

He shifted. Based on the information he had read about her, she didn’t seem to be in league with the vamps, but that didn't mean he could go blabbing about his incredibly personal life. “Sasha, what I meant by vamp dick was simply blood sucking people that I work with. You know, bankers, CEOs; the money hungry people of the world.”

She pursed her lips. “I tried to figure it out all night. The best I could come up with was 'very angled man penis'. I think I deserve an apology for being accused of being a money hungry gold digger though. Because I'm not. I have worked damn hard for all I have.”

“I know.” She looked at him curiously. He caught his mistake and said, “I assumed, I mean. Of course I apologize, I never meant to offend you in any way. I don't think you are a gold digger at all. Or money hungry. But I do want to know more about your life. I'd love to hear about it.”

She looked at him warily. “I grew up with a single mother and two younger sisters. My mom got Lyme Disease in her thirties. She grew progressively more sick until we figured out what was wrong. I quit college, to work full time and help her pay for treatment when she no longer could, and took care of my little sisters. After five years of conventional antibiotics and five more years of herbal treatment, she is in remission and my sisters are both in college now.”

He had read most of this in the papers he got from Trevor, but hearing her talk about it so nonchalantly, made his heart swell. She really was a good person. “That was noble of you, Sasha.”

She scoffed. “Nothing noble about it. My mom gave up her life for us, it was the least I could do to hold us together. I'd do it again tomorrow.”

He turned his champagne flute between his fingers. “Is there anything you've ever wanted for your life?”

She smiled. “What every girl wants, of course. To be the princess of the world, marry a prince, live happily ever after.” She laughed, but it hit his ear with a hollow sound.

He smiled. “No, seriously. Anything you wish you could do, but were never able to?”

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I'd love to go to culinary school. I'd really love to travel the world. It won't happen. With every penny I make, I save as much as I can in case Mom gets sick again. I don't begrudge her of it. If the doctors had caught it earlier, she would have a chance of being healthy.”

He nodded slowly. “How much does treatment cost for your mom?”

She sat in silence for a second, counting on her fingers. “Usually a couple thousand, or more, a month if she flares again. Otherwise about $600-$900 a month, between supplements, all organic food, and herbs as a preventative.”

“I see. That's quite a burden.”

She shrugged. “It's my Mom. She's worth it.”

“Can you explain like what kind of doctors she needs? I don't know much about Lyme. I mean I've heard of it, but nothing like this.”

She told him that her mom needed a Lyme Literate Doctor, they were hard to find and insurance didn't usually cover it. That Lyme needed more treatment than the 2-4 weeks that the government suggested. He made plenty of mental notes. “So, Cupcake. What other questions did you have for me?”

She pursed her lips. God, he wanted to kiss them. “How many companies do you own?”

He looked at her curiously. “Interesting question to ask.”

She sat up straight. “Look, don't pull the 'I don't trust you BS card' with me now. I just poured out about my life. I just asked a question as to how many. Not their names. Not your net worth. I'm just curious.”

He shrugged. “True. I own eight companies. And my net worth is about $165 million, just so you know.”

Her eyes bugged. “Wow. Impressive for a guy so young.”

“I'm only a few years older than you, I think. I just got started really young and I had a lot of anger and drive.” He took a drink of champagne.

“I'm twenty five.” She smiled.

“I'm thirty.” He toyed with his glass and brushed his hair out of his face. She took another sip of champagne. “Any other questions?”

A small smile crossed her lips. “Are you always scary around this time of the month?”

He froze. “What do you mean?” He casually laughed, feeling his heart freeze in his chest.

“Seemed like last night you were on your man period.”

He genuinely laughed this time. “No, I just like to come out here every few weeks for a couple of days to just regroup and get myself together. I get prickly without some rest.”

She nodded. “I can understand that. I haven't relaxed in years and I'm pretty prickly most of the time.”

He looked at her and she swore he exuded sex from his eyes. “Maybe you need someone to rub out the kinks.”

“No, I haven't finished making my rules yet.” She smiled wickedly.

“Okay, Cupcake. What are your rules?” He crossed his ankles.

“First rule is, I always get what I want.” She held up a finger.

“Always?” He asked.

“Always,” she responded. “Second, I get to be in control.” Up went a second finger.

“In control of what?” He purred.

“In control of everything,” she murmured, a flush dusting her mocha cheeks.

“And what does everything entail?” He queried.

“Whatever I deem it to entail,” she said firmly. “Finally, third, I get to do what I want, when I want.” A third finger went up.

“Okay,” he replied. “So, let me get this straight. Your rules are, you always get what you want, and you get to do what you want, when you want it. And you get to always be in control while doing what you want, when you want.” He paused, smirked and said, “Seems legitimate.”

She crossed her arms. “Good, because it is.”

“Okay, so, the rule is I can't touch you off the table that.”

She paused, realizing he had her in a delicate position. “It is, unless I'm not in control.”

He thought about this. “How will I know you aren't in control? Will you tell me 'I'm not in control'? In those words?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that's how you will know.”

“Okay then. How about we head back to the house?” He stood and began packing things back in the picnic basket.

“Alright.” She was quiet going back to the cabin. As they came up to the stairs, she looked at him and quietly asked, “A car is not coming for us today, is it?”

Jeremy flushed slightly. “No,” he admitted. “Probably not.”

She shrugged. “I thought that was what was going on. So, how many days do you need out here to regroup?”

“Um,” he started. “Usually a few days.”

“I need to let my mom know.” She turned the handle on the door and let herself in.

“It's been taken care of.” He grimaced, waiting for her response.

“Oh? So, you sent my info to your assistant, right?” She nodded slowly.

“Yeah, Trevor handled everything.” He kicked his sandals off at the door and headed to the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

“So, explain to me how I am supposed to keep my jobs?” She was entirely too calm. Jeremy knew she was smart, and he was being stupid around her, slipping up.

“You don't have to worry about it. I'll take care of you.” He opened the bottle of water and took a drink. The ache in his throat was becoming incredibly hard to deal with right now, as was the ache in his cock.

“What? Like a mistress?”

He choked on the water. “Hell no! I mean, I'll give you a job. A secretary, something like that. Hell, you can even cook for me and I'll hire you as my private chef.”

“So, you don't want my body?” She pouted then smiled.

“Hell yes I do, but I'm not going to pay you to make love to me.” He drained the rest of the water and cracked open another one.

“I see,” she said. “So, what would my salary be? Insurance? Vacation days? How does this all work?”

He drained that bottle of water. “Um, I really don't know just yet. I'll take care of you. Name your price. Name your demands. Remember, you are in control, right?” He threw it away and cracked a third. She watched him drain that bottle as she stepped a little closer.

“Thirsty?” She tossed her hair back, giving him full view of her jugular. Blood lust was becoming more than he could handle.

“Just a little dehydrated from being on the boat. I feel much better. I think I am going to head out for a walk.” He was feeling antsy.

She stepped closer. “Can I come?” Her dark eyes were mesmerizing. He knew exactly what her pulse was right now. 84. No, 88. It was slowly escalating and he was slowly losing his mind with each thump.

“No, I need a few minutes to unwind. You want to get started on dinner? You could start earning your paycheck right now.” He pivoted quickly and got away from her, before he either drank her blood, or screwed her senseless, or both, which was his fear.

***

She watched him tear out the door with a curious look. The wheels were turning in her head. She opened the refrigerator and saw, basically, half of a cow on the shelves. Hamburger, steaks, nothing but red meat. She pulled some thick steaks out along with lemon and herbs. She didn't see any garlic, so she grabbed the pepper off of the counter. Rummaging through the pantry she found some fingerling potatoes, which she started boiling. She found a grill pan and started it warming, seasoning the steaks with herbs, lemon and pepper.

Taking a wild guess as to how Jeremy would like his steak, she started hers first. When the potatoes were tender, she whipped them with cream and butter. She found salad and dressing in the fridge. She put his steak on the grill, just as she saw him coming out of the woods, with no shirt on.

She swallowed nervously. He smiled at her as he came in the kitchen. His mood seemed much better. “Hey, I see you found food.”

“Yeah, I did. It's done, want to sit down?” She put his plate in front of him and served herself. She cut into her medium well steak and started eating. He cut into his steak and blood pooled on the plate. She watched his nostrils flare.

He looked up at her and put his utensils down. He pushed his plate away. “What do you know, or think you know.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

She cut another piece of steak, before popping it in her mouth and chewing. “I'm not sure. I have suspicions, maybe even theories.”

“Okay,” He said slowly. “What are your suspicions or theories?”

She laughed. “I feel I’ve been plopped into the middle of the movie Twilight. This is going to sound so stupid, but I wonder if you are a vampire. But, it makes no sense. You don't melt, or glow, or do anything in the light.” She paused. “But, I don't think I bought your vamp dick explanation, either.”

***

He smiled, putting as much genuine warmth into his smile as possible. “Not stupid, but I'm not a vampire.”
And I'm not,
he told himself.
Not 100% anyway.

She ate another piece of steak. “Eat your food, it's delicious. No garlic in the fridge, so it's safe.”