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“That crowd is my family.”
The chef winced. “I did mention that. Was it a problem?”
Kade put his hands on his hips. “Not that I heard. In the future, I’d rather not use my family as a testing ground for new crew.”
“Gotcha.”
Kade put his hand on the chef’s shoulder. “Thanks for all your work on this, Cap. I know you don’t like new stuff on the menu, but if we don’t change — ”
“We become obsolete,” said the chef, who was apparently named or nicknamed Cap.
Kade grinned, and it was stunning. “Glad we’re on the same page. You have a good night.”
Cap nodded and headed back into the kitchen. I’d expected Kade to follow him, but instead he turned to me, grinning again. This time though, there was something mischievous about it, making my spine shiver with sweet anticipation.
He walked slowly, but with purpose toward me, pressing his palm against the wall next to me. “Are you hiding from me?”
“No.” Maybe.
He quirked a brow like he didn’t believe me. “You sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
He laughed and it was the first time I think I’d heard him laugh so freely. Like the real, authentic Kade was standing in front of me. Blocking me against the wall. Any other time, I might find this predicament a concern. Right now, I liked being held captive by Kade.
“Are you ready for dessert?” There was a gleam in his eyes, but I couldn’t be sure if it was because of whatever glorious confection he’d concocted for dessert, or innuendo. No, not innuendo, silly. I wasn’t his type.
“What is it?”
His eyes drifted to my mouth and he licked his lips. Yowza. His gaze returned to my eyes. “Well, you have a choice. There’s a tiramisu cheesecake, or bread pudding with whiskey sauce. Or a French apple tart.” He leaned in closer. “Or me.”
Oh my god, oh my god. You, you, you.
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you know what I want for dessert?”
I shook my head because words failed me.
“Something sweet and decadent.”
I nodded. That sounded yummy.
“Your lips have been taunting me with their sweet decadence since the moment I met you.”
I couldn’t believe it, and yet I wasn’t going to argue.
He smiled as if he knew he’d taken me off guard. “Can I taste you, Morgan?”
Absolutely. I nodded, watching him as he took his time to close the distance between us. His lips touched mine, and like wildfire, a flash of heat burst through my entire body. I’d have expected someone like Kade to be aggressive in his kiss, but he was slow, soft, and thorough as he consumed my lips.
Finally, he lifted his head. “Delicious.” He winked and then headed back into the restaurant.
Meanwhile, my legs turned into jelly, and I sank down the side of the wall. “Wow!”
5
Kade — Friday
I wondered who came up with the idea of the bachelor party. They didn’t really make sense to me. I guess it was supposed to be one last hurrah before being tied down in marriage, but having a party with nearly naked women shaking their tits and rubbing their bare asses on the groom’s crotch didn’t seem like the best way to spend the night before a marriage. So much could go wrong. Bachelor parties weren’t a hall pass to fuck another woman before settling down with the woman ‘til death did they part. So why would a man tempt himself by having a party with scantily-clad women involved? Celebrating an upcoming marriage made sense, but not in a bacchanalian orgy.
Chase was smart enough to know Ash wasn’t into strip clubs or naked women popping out of cakes. He wasn’t into that either, anymore. Neither was Hunter, the true king of the daily one-night stand. Truth was, the idea of a strip club didn’t hold much interest for me either. To be honest, they never really did. Not that I didn’t like naked woman dancing, but I’d much rather watch a woman strip in my bedroom where I could stroke my dick until she was ready to fuck me, than watch her on stage surrounded by a bunch of horny men. It reeked of desperation.
That’s how we ended up at a burlesque club. Granted, it wasn’t that much different. There were still lots of underdressed women. Women I barely noticed, because since last night, my mind had been annoyingly laser-focused on Morgan. I couldn’t remember ever thinking about a woman and eagerly anticipating seeing her again since my first crush on my twenty-two-year-old eighth grade English teacher.
The memory of feeding Morgan the food of my creation, and watching as she thoroughly savored and enjoyed the morsels as they should be enjoyed, was etched in my brain for posterity. What was it about her that had our kiss running in a loop in my brain? Only in my brain, I didn’t stop at just a kiss. Last night, I went to bed with that kiss still sending endorphins through my system. I’d had no choice but to grab my dick and start stroking. With the taste of her still lingering on my lips, I imagined releasing those magnificent tits, burying my face in them, and sucking on hard nipples. Her lips were soft and sweet, and immediately my fantasy morphed into her dropping to her knees to suck me off. I hadn’t come so fast and so hard since I’d jacked off to thoughts of my English teacher.
