A faint blush sweeps over her cheeks. “Only for a moment. I couldn’t last like that in public. I swatted your hand away.”
I hold mine up in surrender. “That made me so sad.”
“Maybe that’s why you pounced on me when we got back to your room.”
“Your lips tasted like caramel, and you looked like the sweetest sin. How could I not?”
Her eyes dance with naughtiness as she moves closer in a sexy challenge. “And now? How do I taste?”
“I’d like to find—”
But I cut myself off when a mother marches into the gallery with two redheaded grade-schoolers in tow. Penny straightens and points her thumb at a red-and-black-splashed canvas. “Jackson Pollock. Overrated? Underrated?”
Bringing my hand to my chest, I feign humility. “I am but a lowly chef. How can I judge an artist like him?”
She scoffs. “Lowly chef, my butt.”
Not covertly, I peek at her ass. “It is a lovely ass,” I say when the trio is out of earshot. “Have I mentioned that?”
“No. Feel free to sing its praises,” she says, then reaches for my hand. “By the way, I don’t think you’re a lowly chef. From what I’ve read, you’re quite a superstar, and from what you made for me the other day, I’d say all the accolades fit.”
I squeeze her fingers. “Thank you. Maybe you’ll let me cook for you. Just you.”
“Let you?” She arches a brow. “How about I demand you cook for me?”
“I’d love to.” Then I circle back to something she said the other night. Calling me a playboy chef. “Do the other names bother you? The things that have been said about me?”
She exhales as if she’s considering it. “At first, yes. But not anymore. I’m really trying to just focus on the here and now with you and me. Not what happened in between then and now.”
“Not anymore? Are you sure?”
She nods, resolute. “Yes. I’m sure.” I hope she means it. The other night she flung those words at me like insults. I understood she was hurt, and I’d probably have done the same if I were her. Even so, I want what’s happening between us to be about us.
“I’m doing the same.” I tap my temple and wink. “Besides, my brain has played this fantastic trick on me. It blots out any thought of what you’ve been doing from the moment you left Barcelona until you walked into my restaurant the other day.”
She laughs. “Nice trick.”
“It is. It’s like this complete blankness. I love it,” I say, because I hate the thought that any other guy has had his hands on her. I’m not a jealous man by nature, but the mere possibility that anyone else has ever touched this woman inflames me. It’s not realistic to think she’s been a nun for ten years, but I vastly prefer pretending I’m the only one who’s been with her, ever.
Yes, that probably makes me a dick.
Perhaps I am on this count.
She shakes her head, bemused. “Yes, Gabriel. I’m as pure as the driven snow. Just like the day I met you.”
“Perfect answer,” I say, then I drop a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.
After we spend far too many minutes kissing in front of a Matisse painting of a goldfish, we decide it’s best to take our brand of PDA out of the museum. We leave and get into the long, sleek car I had waiting for us at the curb. The driver pulls away, and before he slides up the partition I tell him to just drive.
“Speaking of taste…can I torture you now?” she asks, and I’d be a fool to deny her request.
“I believe I’m amenable to your brand of torture.”
Soon enough she’s unzipped my jeans and taken me into her mouth, and I’m not ashamed to say it hardly takes me any time at all because she looks like a goddess.
My goddess.
My beautiful woman with her long hair spilled over my thighs, and her red lips wrapped around my hard length. My hands cradle her head, and I guide her up and down, telling her how fucking good it feels the whole time. I groan as I stare at her, her head bobbing between my legs. Her tongue is divine. Her mouth is heavenly. And when she drags her teeth the slightest bit along my shaft, the angels of blow jobs weep with approval.
Because holy fucking heaven, Penny goes down on me like she loves it, and God knows I love the sight of her, the feel of her, the smell of her. And especially the passion of her—how much she seems to want to do this. She moans as she moves along my cock, and she makes such beautiful sounds—her murmurs, her groans, her noises of pleasure as she sucks me off.
My breath hitches and pleasure burrows deep into my body. Then, the desire grows more intense, more wild, more furious. My hands grip her tighter, clutching her head as I fuck her beautiful mouth.
Penny and I were never short on passion when we first met. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I still can’t get enough of her, but I also find we’re freer this time around. She never went down on me like this before. She was younger, more exploratory. Now, she’s wilder and hungrier, and it’s fucking alluring.
I groan her name as I stare at her greedy mouth, stretched wide with my cock.
So fucking good.
So fucking hot.
You.
My God, you.
My thoughts turn baser and my words are no longer English. Soon, they’re no longer words, just grunts and growls and noises as Penny licks and sucks me into a state of divine fucking ecstasy.