Served Sweet Read online

  Anson noted the pear chutney bruschetta topped with blue cheese and olives, the cranberry gorgonzola tarts and the stuffed mushrooms he’d asked Francois to whip up. Francois hadn’t thought “whip up” the most appropriate term, but he had an even temperament and loved surprising people. The luscious lime tarts with a whipped cream and custard sauce were amazing. Anson had limited himself to two but could easily have consumed the whole damn tray.

  People continued to come through the door, circulating through to the outdoor area populated by heating units. They lingered on the outside lawn, congregating around the heaters there as well. His assistant Noel had informed him that the camera crew had arrived to interview him, so he excused himself and Riley, then walked with her outside.

  He paused on the lawn. “TV’s here. You ready? Need a jacket or anything?”

  “Nope. I’m fine.” She smiled at him, but he saw something in her eyes.

  “Riley? What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing.”

  He sighed. “What did I do now?”

  She looked at him. Really stared.

  “Seriously. Just tell me.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “If I knew, would I be asking?” And this is why I don’t do relationships. Women are not logical.

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, Anson.”

  “What?” Just then, Aimee McDougall, Kicks at Six’s star reporter, drew closer with the camera right behind her. She gave Anson a big grin and held the microphone tight. “Anson Black, owner of Black’s, Bend’s newest fine dining establishment here on North West Galveston, is standing with Riley Hewitt, owner of the dreamy Riley’s Sweets next door. Hi, you two.”

  “Aimee.” He subtly squeezed Riley, who nodded and smiled. “Thanks for coming out.”

  “We had to. Looks like everyone’s here!”

  The camera panned the crowd.

  Riley whispered to him, “How does she know who I am?”

  “I told her. Plus everyone recognizes you.”

  “Because I’m black?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Because your sweets are to die for. Now behave.” He squeezed her again. This time she squeezed back—pinching his ass.

  He had to count to ten backwards and forwards, thinking about his parents and her mother to stifle an erection. Not great to have on display on local TV. He focused again on the present as Aimee talked about his background in the restaurant business, his many accolades and the fact he’d scored Francois Barteau, a renowned Master Chef who’d recently turned down his own reality TV show.

  Anson allowed Riley to pull away to greet her mother. He took Aimee and her cameraman on a tour of the facility, introducing her to his staff on hand as well as Francois.

  While Francois flirted and smiled with a Parisian accent that seemed to drive women crazy, Anson left Aimee in good hands to make sure everything continued to run smoothly. A while later, he noted Aimee without her microphone still talking to Francois, that dog. Anson loved the guy, but Francois was not only a connoisseur of fine foods, but of fine women as well. Needless to say Anson had steered him clear of Riley from the jump.

  He finally ran into his parents, who seemed excited about the event. “It’s really nice.” His father nodded. “Love the bar, the wainscoting and accents on the wall. You did good, boy.” His dad knew marketing and how to make a place stand out, something he’d passed on to his son.

  “Thanks. Mom, do you like it?”

  “I love the paint color. I wouldn’t have thought to use such a dark red, but it’s elegant. And I love the chandeliers.”

  They’d cost a pretty penny, but Anson had known what he wanted. Francois had given him some ideas as well, and between them and his design team, he thought he’d hit the ball out of the park. Riley hadn’t said anything yet though.

  He wondered…

  “There you are.” She worked her way to his side and snagged her arm around his waist this time, surprising him. “Can I get a minute of your time, handsome?”

  His mother beamed, and he prayed her enthusiasm for the evening stilled anything inappropriate she might say. He gave her a look she ignored.

  “Riley Hewitt. Don’t you look beautiful.”

  Riley smiled shyly, and he pulled her closer, not caring how it made them look like a couple. Beyond his parents he saw Dex waving to him then pointing to his mother and making the sign of a man hanging. Anson did his best not to laugh.

  Riley coughed. “Gee, Mr. and Mrs. Black. Sorry. I need some water, and I need to talk to Anson really quick. I’ll bring him right back.”

  “Take your time.” His father waved her away.

  She dragged Anson with her, her coughing mysteriously gone.

  “Saw Dex, did you?”

  She chuckled. “He’s such a dork. Even all grown up.”

  “No kidding. Now what did you want to talk to me about?”

  She pulled him into the back of the restaurant, where the staff was bustling like crazy. “Do you have any place private?”

  “My office.” He nodded to the stairway tucked in back. They climbed it to the second floor, where he entered a code to get into the cozy office space, complete with a large desk, filing cabinets, and across the room, a couch, table and two chairs for meeting. He’d slept on the thing more than a few times since moving back to Bend.

  “Well? What’s wrong?” Then because he couldn’t wait to hear any longer, he asked, “Do you like the place?”

  She closed the door behind her, shutting out the sounds of clanging and working below. “I think it’s amazing.”

  He puffed with pride. “Turned out okay, I think. So what’s… Riley?” She stalked him until she had his back against the door. “Honey, what’s—shit.” He sounded strangled, but the woman had his pants undone, her hand beneath his underwear to grip him tight. “What the fuck? Riley, not now.” That should have come out much harsher than it sounded, instead of the breathy plea to stop.

  “I had a few questions.”

  “Qu-questions?” He put his hand over hers to stop her, but he couldn’t make himself end the pleasure stealing through his entire body.

  “What’s with you and Claire?” She shoved his underwear down and cupped his balls with one hand, still pumping him with the other.

  “Who?” He wanted her on her knees, sucking him off. Licking him up while he spent down her throat. Laughter and activity in the kitchen downstairs penetrated his awareness. He groaned. “Riley, we have guests.”

  “You have guests. I’m just the neighbor.” She drew her thumb over his slit. “You’re slick for me.”

  “Fuck. Come on, Riley. Let go.”

  “You don’t sound too sure.”

  I’m not. “I, oh shit.” He moaned when she rubbed his balls with a soft hand, giving just the right amount of pressure to have him skittering on the edge of an orgasm. A mess he’d have no time to clean up with his guests downstairs.

  “Claire,” she repeated.

  He started humping her hand, lost without her. It had been days without Riley’s touch, and he needed to feel her. “Let me eat you, baby. Come on, raise that dress up for me.”

  Her eyes darkened. “Answer me and maybe I’ll go down on you.”

  “Whatever you want.” He put a hand around her neck to pull her closer and kissed her, shoving his dick against her belly and her hand.

  “Claire,” she whispered as she kissed his neck. “Why is she here?”

  “Dunno. Didn’t invite her. Chatty’s too clingy.”

  She paused. “Chatty?”

  He moaned when she skated her fingers around his cockhead. “Couldn’t remember her name. Talks a lot.” God. She’d reduced him to fragments instead of sentences.

  She laughed softly, then sank to her knees, answering his prayers.

  “Yes. I swear, anything you want. I need you, baby. So sweet.”

  She opened her mouth and took him in. He kept his hand on her shoulder, not wanting to grip her hair
and ruin the beauty there. But fuck if he could stop himself from moving.

  “I’m gonna come so hard. Right now. Fuck, swallow me,” he growled and moaned when she drew him deeper, hollowing her cheeks while she sucked him.

  He clenched his hand on her and bit back a cry as he jetted down her throat, aware she continued to suck and lick him dry, leaving him weak-kneed and panting as he slowly withdrew and sagged back against the door. “Jesus. What did you do to me?”

  “Just my way of saying congratulations.” She licked her lips and stood, then stared down at his cock. She wiped a drop of come from him and lifted it to her mouth.

  He could do nothing but watch as she put that finger between her lips.

  After a moment of silence, a nearly religious moment he committed to memory, he tucked himself back into his pants and moved from the door, not sure what to say or do.

  She patted her hair and smoothed a hand down her dress. “See you downstairs.” Then she winked and left him staring after her, his fly still open.

  What the hell had that been about? Claire?

  Still trying to reason the whys of it, he realized he was missing his own party. After a harried clean up in the attached bathroom, he left the room, locked it back up and rejoined the partygoers.

  He spent the rest of his evening watching Riley laugh with her friends and flirt with Ben and a few other douchebags, while he was forced to play the gracious host with every-fucking-body keeping him away from his chocolate mermaid. In that dress, she resembled a sweet treat he had every intention of devouring at the first opportunity.

  The little witch knew she’d irked him, because she kept slanting laughing glances his way.

  She didn’t know it, but they were going to have another private meeting when this thing ended. Time for a little more “closure” on his part.

  Riley felt like a goddess. Even the aroma of the fine red blend in her glass couldn’t mask the tasty flavor of Anson Black. A good year, she thought with humor.

  “You look way too pleased with yourself,” Ann said. She looked from Riley to a scowling Anson and sighed. “I take it he’s the reason.”

  “Yep.” He’d called Claire Chatty. That struck her as funny, mostly because she knew Anson hadn’t been trying to be mean about it. He’d needed something to identify the woman, and Claire did like to talk.

  Controlling that scene upstairs had been so satisfying. Almost better than an orgasm. Now she understood why so many guys got off on bossing a woman around in bed. After blowing Anson’s mind—among other things—she might want to do that to him again. Yet she had a feeling the payback she’d soon receive from Mr. Competitive—whoa, momma—would easily change her mind.

  She looked forward to it, especially since she knew he’d been faithful, though he technically had no reason to be.

  He might not have called her, but at least he hadn’t been seeing Chatty or anyone else either. Knowing Anson, he’d spent the week wrapped up in prepping for his big event, not giving her another thought. That still burned, but after tonight, Riley knew he wouldn’t forget her again. Now, whenever he was at work, he’d remember that amazing blowjob against his door.

  Talk about hard and huge. She’d swallowed a good bit, but for Anson, she’d do it again. She watched how the women, and some men, stared at the man. She had to admit he looked damn fine in black. From head to toe—Anson Black. The perfect complement for her dress, she thought.

  “Better than a clutch.”

  She laughed at her own joke, and when Maya brought her another wine and asked if she was having a good time, she answered with a laugh. “The best.”

  Riley hadn’t intended to stay until the end, but she’d been having such a good time with Maya, Ann, the guys and a few friends she hadn’t seen in a while, that the time flew by. As an added bonus, she happened to notice Anson frowning when he’d see her with Ben or the other men she’d talked to.

  Not that she’d set out to flirt and make him jealous. Riley didn’t do flirting all that well. She talked to friends and family alike with the same warmth. Truth to tell, none of the men she’d talked to measured up to Anson in any way. Well, with the exception of Ben, but she’d been talking food with him, and she had no designs on him socially. They’d agreed to go to lunch next week just for fun. Nonthreatening and totally nonsexual.

  She had to admit that knowing Anson didn’t like it made the conversation that much more arresting. Ben hadn’t minded her time in the slightest, and she wondered if Maya had been correct when assuming he had a thing for her. Personally Riley didn’t see how. They rarely saw each other, and when they did, they only talked about work.

  Placing her third—or was that fourth?—empty wine glass down on a passing tray, she searched for her friends, ready to leave. Her mother had left an hour ago after spending a suspicious amount of time with Anson’s mom. His aunt and uncle, Dex’s parents, had come, as had a host of people eager to be near him all night long. For all that Anson could be annoying to some, he had a host of loving family and friends who liked him enough to stick around and support him.

  Keeping her distance had been easy enough because Mr. Popular had been working the crowd. She had to admit he’d done a great job. She had no doubt the restaurant would really take off. His reputation in Portland and Seattle preceded him, and she’d already heard people talking about getting on a list to be the first to dine on opening night at the beginning of March.

  Too bad he couldn’t start on Valentine’s Day, but she knew he had more to do before he could make that happen.

  “So, the pretty woman is finally alone.”

  She turned to find Francois, Anson’s charming chef, appraising her. The wine she’d enjoyed added to the warmth suffusing her, but she admitted to liking the way he looked at her. She felt attractive, feminine and sexy. “So, the man with the amazing accent and lime tarts to die for is finally alone.” She grinned at him.

  He winked and took a sip of wine from his glass. Francois had full lips, a square jaw and mirthful brown eyes. His light brown hair was overly long but looked rakish enough to suit what she’d witnessed of his temperament. Francois had flirted with the best of them tonight and hadn’t hurt for female companionship.

  “Ah, cherie, I would have been by sooner but Anson warned me to leave you alone.” They both glanced over to find the autocrat in the middle of four attractive women, all vying for a piece of him.

  Her good mood started to sour until Francois took her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “I hope you’ll permit me this small token of affection.”

  “A getting-to-know-you kiss?” She giggled. Definitely time to lay off the wine.

  “Exactly.” His lips felt soft, and she felt a stir of attraction. But the man she really wanted kissing her was busy—

  “Hands off, Frenchie.” Anson whisked Riley from Francois and glared. “What did I tell you before?”

  “Anson, you wound me.” Francois laughed. “I see your fan club is breaking up.”

  They glanced at the crowd finally dispersing. The women Anson had been chatting with left, though a pair of them looked over their shoulders to wave back at him.

  “Yeah, nice cheerleading squad.” Riley tried not to scowl, especially when Anson stared at her, then started to smile.

  “A little loopy, Riley?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “I’ll drive you home.” He sounded way too pleased with himself.

  Not that she’d planned on driving herself. She’d planned to ask— “Hey. Where’s Ann?”

  “With Maya, Dex and Jack. They left an hour ago. But you wouldn’t know that because you were too busy flirting with Ben, Mike and Dave,” Anson drawled.

  “So many?”

  Francois chuckled. “Ah, young love.”

  “Don’t you have someplace to be?” Anson asked.

  “Oui. I’m meeting Aimee for cocktails. Don’t wait up.” He added something in French she didn’t understand.

&nb
sp; Anson scowled. “Funny. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Francois nodded, waved, then left humming under his breath.

  Riley couldn’t stop staring at Anson, wondering how he could get better looking every time she saw him. “I hate how handsome you are.”

  He blinked down at her. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Your eyes are too green. And your hair is too soft.” She squeezed his biceps, not sure when he’d started moving them up the stairs and inside the restaurant. “Any guy who works so hard at business shouldn’t have muscles like this.”

  “You like my muscles, hmm?”

  She wished he sounded less amused and more annoyed. “So? I liked Ben’s muscles too.” There. That wiped the smug grin off his face.

  “Stay here.” He left her by the bar. She heard him in the kitchen talking to his staff, congratulating them and acting like an all around good boss. So weird, thinking of Anson as a decent guy.

  Or was it? Her preconceived notions about him had started when they were both eight years old, and the competition between them hadn’t waned since. Until the sex. That amazing, bone-melting, to-die-for passion she’d only ever read about before.

  Now she didn’t see Anson as a complete jerk. Far from it. He’d been terrific about giving her pleasure. And he’d let her go down on him upstairs. She shivered. That had been so hot.

  She was turning herself on all over again thinking about him when he returned. I have got to sober up. A world away from drunk but definitely not sober, she’d imbibed enough to take the edge off. So not what she needed when dealing with Anson I’m-Impossible-to-Resist Black.

  “Well, then, my mermaid. How about I take you home?”

  Mermaid. He hadn’t forgotten, and she secretly loved the nickname. It was so sexy, so pretty. And in her green dress she felt almost magical, especially the way he watched her. She sighed. “We’re going to have sex again, aren’t we?”

  His lips quirked. “I think we are.”

  “But I was winning.” She groaned. “If we have sex again, then you’ll be ahead.”

  “So competitive.” He leaned down to kiss her, and before she knew it, he had her pinned against the bar, grinding against him.

  “Later, boss. Denny’s finishing up.” She heard snickers behind them, then the sound of a door closing.