The Sextet - Sharing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by The Sextet Page B

door behind her. She picked up the
    black ball from her desk. “Okay, great and powerful Eight, do I
    choose Dane?”
    She flipped the ball over to peer at the answer. “Better not tell you

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    now.”
    “Should I choose Spencer?”
    She flipped the ball again. “Ask again later.”
    Damned thing was as indecisive as she was.

    * * * *

    Eyeing the contract, Spence had to give Wren credit. She wasn’t
    going to put up with any bullshit. Play by the rules or lose a golden
    opportunity. She could make or break his shift to catering. The same
    for Fletch—and her cocky son of a bitch brother—since they’d
    decided to go into catering the same week. Both of them needed this
    first prestigious contract.
    Dane clearly had his sights on their judge, too. Not that Wren
    wasn’t worthy of the hard-on she inspired. Her low-cut tank top and
    tight blue jeans outlined an amazing body. Did she have a seductively
    hidden tattoo to go with the pierced belly button? Maybe a red heart
    on her perfect ass? He’d conduct a thorough search when they burned
    up the sheets. And she might have a mix of purple, blue, and green on
    her pixie head, but he looked forward to finding that natural red in her
    panties. That she’d been the inspiration for more than one wet dream
    back in high school was incentive enough to make a play for her. Her
    enticing curves were a bonus, and the interest in her eyes only
    encouraged him. After dinner.
    He picked up the pen, signing by the X. Time to get down to
    business. He turned to pull open the refrigerator door and study the
    contents. Yeast. Fresh basil, thyme, oregano, dill, mint, parsley,
    and...cilantro. Hmm. Raspberries, strawberries, lemons, limes. And an
    eclectic assortment of vegetables, meats, cheeses, and...edible
    flowers? Interesting. He moved to the counter, lifting lids on the
    canisters. Granulated sugar, cane sugar, unbleached all-purpose flour,
    graham flour. A fully stocked spice rack.
    His imagination buzzed with excitement over the foods he could

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    Mellanie Szereto
    create. A pallet-pleasing combination of flavors and textures designed
    to catch the eye with a unique blend of colors and shapes. His feast
    would easily win the contract.
    And then dessert. Wren à la mode . God, he’d waited a long time
    for the real thing.

    * * * *

    Dane scribbled notes as he checked out the available ingredients
    in his station. Herb-stuffed veal cutlets with steamed asparagus and
    pearl onions. A bed of spaghetti squash topped with grilled
    portabellas and cannellini in a Roma tomato-Marsala sauce. Leek and
    carrot bisque. Crusty basil-pecorino focaccia. Roasted red pepper-
    eggplant wontons and sesame wafers with pesto. Spinach salad with
    lemon vinaigrette. Let Andrews come up with courses as fucking
    creative as those. He would go crawling back to his trendy bistro after dinner, and Wren would provide the evening’s best course. Rack of
    swan and pussy au jus —the perfect complement to his perfect meal.
    But first, the business of securing this catering gig, not that he minded a little competition among friends.
    He concentrated on chopping basil and some well-disguised
    cilantro for the pesto, wielding a duplicate of his favorite knife over
    the pungent leaves. Wren knew the importance of good tools. His
    cock twitched.
    Click, click, click . He looked up at the sound of heels on the tile floor. Ah. The woman with superb knowledge of tools is back. Mixing the herbs into the bowl of olive oil, garlic, toasted chopped pistachios, and sea salt, he grinned. “Want a taste, sweetheart?”
    He held out the spoon.
    She pursed her full red lips, narrowing her eyes at him. “Trying to
    influence the judge?”
    “Not at all.” At least not the way she thought. “I’m curious
    whether or not you can identify my secret ingredient.”

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    She relaxed slightly and stepped toward him.
    Holding the spoon beyond her reach, he waited. One more step .
    He