meantime, he wavered between annoyance and amusement. One thing was certain, the last thing these bucks needed was a steady diet of his all-aphrodisiac menu. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up with a riot on his hands.
‘It’s a madhouse out there,’ Abby said, returning with another handful of orders. Her cheeks were pink with happiness, her eyes bright with excitement. Storm wondered if she’d noticed all the cock-heads wagging as she passed. Not consciously, perhaps, but the testosterone in the air was having an effect on her. She looked radiant.
‘Come here,’ he said, shifting a skillet of shrimp off the burner.
‘Oh, no.’ She backed away, her flush deepening. ‘Not again.’
She’d been helping him in the kitchen all week and he’d coaxed her into as many mutual grope sessions as he could manage. They’d traded hand jobs in the supply room, dry-humped on the workstation cutting board, and kissed each other numb in the herb garden under the moon. What they hadn’t done was engage in full intercourse or oral sex. Storm wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for either. Abby made him unconscionably impatient.
‘Just a kiss,’ he said, puckering his mouth to prove his sincerity. ‘I need a pick-me-up.’
Abby’s eyes slid to his groin. Even through his apron, the bulge of his erection was evident. His cock had been rising ever since he’d heard her light, quick footsteps advancing down the hall. The weight of her attention stiffened him up the last possible millimetre.
‘You look plenty picked up to me,’ she said, ‘and we don’t have time to, um, get you laid down again.’
He curled his tongue out and touched his upper lip. Beneath her soft cotton sweater — sherbet green tonight — Abby’s nipples popped to attention.
‘Oh, God.’ She quickly buttoned the matching cardigan. ‘You’re impossible.’
‘But you like me that way,’ he said.
This time she didn’t deny it. She sighed in surrender. ‘One kiss. A quick one.’
He backed her into the counter, clasped her face in both hands, and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. Abby made a strangled kitten noise and kissed him back. She gripped his buttocks with an enthusiasm that suggested she might have a thing about his rear. Hoping this was so, Storm clenched his cheeks and savoured her anguished groan.
‘It’s been hours,’ she said, breaking free with a gasp. Her little hand crept over his erection and gave his shaft a testing squeeze. He noticed she did that a lot. Perhaps she needed proof of her effect on him. As far as he was concerned, she was welcome to it. It was certainly easy to give. She had to be one of the most responsive women he’d ever met; a soft, squirmy, cuddly little handful. Her shyness made her all the more fun to play with.
With one eye on the stove, he ran his hands up her front and cupped her hard-tipped breasts. She moaned through closed lips. He eased his thigh between her legs. She immediately began to ride it up and down. He grinned. How delightful she was.
‘I have something special planned for tonight,’ he said, his voice gone smoky with pleasure.
‘Please don’t tell me what,’ she said. ‘Not when I have to go back into that dining room full of people.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised and gave her breasts a slow, deep squeeze. ‘I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. I will tell you one thing, though.’
‘What?’ The word was a shallow pant. She rolled harder against him. In a minute, her skirt would be wet — and maybe his apron, too. ‘What one thing can you tell me?’
‘I’ll be inside you,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll shove my cock in your cunt, as deep as it can go. You’ll feel the shape of me inside you, the pounding of my blood, the hardness. You’ll be soft and wet. Your folds will move around me, stroking me, clutching me. We’ll hold there like that, locked tight, until neither of us can stand another second without moving.’
Her hand contracted
‘It’s a madhouse out there,’ Abby said, returning with another handful of orders. Her cheeks were pink with happiness, her eyes bright with excitement. Storm wondered if she’d noticed all the cock-heads wagging as she passed. Not consciously, perhaps, but the testosterone in the air was having an effect on her. She looked radiant.
‘Come here,’ he said, shifting a skillet of shrimp off the burner.
‘Oh, no.’ She backed away, her flush deepening. ‘Not again.’
She’d been helping him in the kitchen all week and he’d coaxed her into as many mutual grope sessions as he could manage. They’d traded hand jobs in the supply room, dry-humped on the workstation cutting board, and kissed each other numb in the herb garden under the moon. What they hadn’t done was engage in full intercourse or oral sex. Storm wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for either. Abby made him unconscionably impatient.
‘Just a kiss,’ he said, puckering his mouth to prove his sincerity. ‘I need a pick-me-up.’
Abby’s eyes slid to his groin. Even through his apron, the bulge of his erection was evident. His cock had been rising ever since he’d heard her light, quick footsteps advancing down the hall. The weight of her attention stiffened him up the last possible millimetre.
‘You look plenty picked up to me,’ she said, ‘and we don’t have time to, um, get you laid down again.’
He curled his tongue out and touched his upper lip. Beneath her soft cotton sweater — sherbet green tonight — Abby’s nipples popped to attention.
‘Oh, God.’ She quickly buttoned the matching cardigan. ‘You’re impossible.’
‘But you like me that way,’ he said.
This time she didn’t deny it. She sighed in surrender. ‘One kiss. A quick one.’
He backed her into the counter, clasped her face in both hands, and plunged his tongue inside her mouth. Abby made a strangled kitten noise and kissed him back. She gripped his buttocks with an enthusiasm that suggested she might have a thing about his rear. Hoping this was so, Storm clenched his cheeks and savoured her anguished groan.
‘It’s been hours,’ she said, breaking free with a gasp. Her little hand crept over his erection and gave his shaft a testing squeeze. He noticed she did that a lot. Perhaps she needed proof of her effect on him. As far as he was concerned, she was welcome to it. It was certainly easy to give. She had to be one of the most responsive women he’d ever met; a soft, squirmy, cuddly little handful. Her shyness made her all the more fun to play with.
With one eye on the stove, he ran his hands up her front and cupped her hard-tipped breasts. She moaned through closed lips. He eased his thigh between her legs. She immediately began to ride it up and down. He grinned. How delightful she was.
‘I have something special planned for tonight,’ he said, his voice gone smoky with pleasure.
‘Please don’t tell me what,’ she said. ‘Not when I have to go back into that dining room full of people.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised and gave her breasts a slow, deep squeeze. ‘I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. I will tell you one thing, though.’
‘What?’ The word was a shallow pant. She rolled harder against him. In a minute, her skirt would be wet — and maybe his apron, too. ‘What one thing can you tell me?’
‘I’ll be inside you,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll shove my cock in your cunt, as deep as it can go. You’ll feel the shape of me inside you, the pounding of my blood, the hardness. You’ll be soft and wet. Your folds will move around me, stroking me, clutching me. We’ll hold there like that, locked tight, until neither of us can stand another second without moving.’
Her hand contracted
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