Page 74 of Elijah’s Whim

“Okay, I give up. What doesn’t sound silly when you say it?” Her voice was my favorite version then. Deeper than the usual alto. Huskier, raspy around the edges, needy and willing.

“That tonight’s the night, beautiful. I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. You’re going to beg me to stop and fuck you harder in the same breath. Can you just imagine what that’s going to be like, Hannah?” I bit her neck just below her ear, and she moaned so loudly that the security guy, Lorenzo, shot his panicked glance to the rearview mirror to make sure she was okay.

Moving beside her ear again, I said in a commanding but very quiet voice, “Now tell Lorenzo you’re fine, because he just looked back here like he’s wondering if he has to pull the car over.”

She looked at me like I must be joking.

“I’m not joking. Tell him, or no cock for you all week.”

After a professional-grade glare, she leaned as far forward as her seat belt would allow and squeezed the driver’s arm.

Very kindly, Hannah said, “I’m fine, Lorenzo. Thank you for driving us on such short notice.”

“Of course, Ms. Farsey. Of course.”

While she was resituating in her seat, the man sneaked a surreptitious wink in the mirror, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to not smile and get one or both of us in trouble with my beautiful blond chef.

Truth be told, Lorenzo knew what a manwhore I was more than most of the people who worked for me. Because he’d done a lot of driving for me over the past five years, he’d seen a lot of debauchery in the back seats of my vehicles while he got me safely from one point to another.

The man had probably seen my ass more than I’d like to admit. He’d even had the opportunity to get in on the action here and there when the lady I was with just wasn’t happy with one dick and insisted on two before I could call Grant or Bas to come over.

“What was the first thing you learned to cook?” I asked her out of the blue.

“That came out of nowhere.” She tilted her head, studying me.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” I chuckled.

“Rice Krispy treats.”

Now I tilted my head. “Does that count as cooking?”

“Of course it does. You have to measure and mix ingredients, to follow a recipe, I think it totally counts. Even if a person just creates something on the fly, that’s still cooking, though.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you?” Hannah asked.

“What about me?”

Knowing I also enjoyed cooking, she persisted. “What’s the first thing you learned to cook?”

“Hmm. Probably grilled cheese, or maybe tuna casserole.”

“What? Are you kidding me right now?” She had her face twisted into a grimace. Even with that she managed to look sexy. Christ, I was hot for this woman.

“No, why? Don’t you dare say you don’t like tuna casserole. It’s as American as apple pie.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“No, it’s not good. It’s fucking delicious.” I rolled my eyes back in ecstasy. “My grandmother used to make it. We lived with my grandparents when I was a young boy, and she taught me to make it because I loved it so much. She told me the easiest way to learn to cook was to learn to make something you loved to eat.”

“She was right. Anytime I’ve had the chance to teach a cooking class to kids, that’s how I encouraged them to pick what they will make for their final project.”

Leaning closer to her, I kissed her nose. “I bet you’re an excellent teacher.”

“Thank you.”

The traffic was typical Southern California gridlock. I hadn’t considered the time of day when I hustled us off on this adventure, but Hannah and I passed the time chatting and switching between holding hands, kissing chastely…and then not so chastely. I had to rein myself in several times with the reminder that when we got to our hotel, I didn’t really want to hurt her, even though the promise had been whispered in her ear on more than one occasion when she sassed off or just when I needed to see her suck in a breath and heave out her tits for me to admire.