I can't wait for the next book in this series. Bryce has a smokin hott brother I would like to know more about. There's just something about a brooding male I find absolutely irresistible.
She wasn't his dish-until someone turned up the heat.Celebrity chef and infamous ladies man Bryce Ryder can't believe the thoughts he's having about his old friend Jenna McCabe. She's always been the shy girl-next-door, but when some bad publicity threatens everything he's built, Jenna gets down to business-and shows a side of herself that is take-charge and totally irresistible. Soon things are heating up in and out of the kitchen-and all of Jenna's secret fantasies about Bryce start coming true. But will she be the one to tame his heart, or is the sexy chef just indulging another one of his cravings?
Bryce couldn’t think. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Watching Jenna saunter away in that pretty little chemise was playing havoc with his synapses. He didn’t even blink as he watched her walked away. The ecru- colored lace skimming just beneath the luscious curve of her cheeks commanded his attention, not to mention fueled his imagination.
She had the finest ass he’d ever seen. Full and round, begging to be cupped by his hand. Shit! What was he thinking, cupping her ass? This was Jenna. Safe, little Jenna. The friend he hadn’t had any sexual thoughts about. Well, not since…Okay. He finally allowed the dirty truth to come up. There had been a few times when he’d awaken from a vivid dream, his sheets tangled and wet, his brain burning with images of him and Jenna.
But he’d always laughed it off. Always thought it absurd. He used to tell himself that the dreams were about Jenna because she was the only woman he really knew well. They were friends, had spent a lot of time together. Naturally she’d invade his dreams.
Pressing forward, he leaned over the counter and watched Jenna. Her profile was just as stunning as the back view. Her breasts were just as hot as her ass, and the way they bounced and moved as she reached for the blanket that lay across the back of the sofa had him groaning.
Man, he was hard. And completely fucking losing it.
Jenna was a friend. He wanted that friendship. Depended on it. No way was he going to toss a decade of friendship down the toilet because his subconscious all of a sudden decided to cough up a few instances of past wet dreams involving Jenna.
He couldn’t imagine his life without Jenna in it. She had always been there, to talk to and hang with. He liked just calling her up for no reason and chatting. He liked how they laughed at the same things. If he couldn’t have that anymore, if he ruined the relationship by making it all awkward and heavy with sexual shit, he didn’t know what he’d do.
But what about when she finds Mr. Right, the insistent voice in his head asked. How much do you think he’s going to tolerate your phone calls and late-night visits? Probably about as well as he tolerated the thought of Jenna wearing that skimpy nightie for another man—including Tyson.
God, he didn’t even want to go there. His emotions and thoughts were all over the map tonight and he couldn’t understand why. What was it about Jenna today? What was it about her walk, the way her ass moved, that had him wanting to risk their friendship by taking it into the bedroom? And what was it about her that suddenly had him thinking how damn nice it would be to always have this, this closeness with her?
The relationship word suddenly crept onto his radar and he panicked. Then, thank god, Jenna’s voice squelched the thought before it could become a full blown visual of a picket fence.
“Movie’s starting,” she called from the living room.
“I’m on it,” he answered back, not moving, just watching as she sat on the couch and crossed her legs. They weren’t overly long, but man, they were shapely. The kind that would feel really good and soft wrapped around him. The kind of shapely, womanly flesh he hadn’t felt in all his other girlfriends.
He heard the Psychedelic Furs singing “Pretty In Pink,” and he got his ass moving. Looking through the cupboards, he found two bowls and a couple of spoons, and tore into the still-steaming dessert.
Inhaling the aroma, he savored it, hoping to hell she liked it. This was an untested concoction he’d just created. And poor Jenna was the guinea pig.
Carrying the bowls, he hit the switch with his elbow, killing the light spilling from the kitchen. Candles glowed on the coffee table, and the light from the television screen made it bright enough for them to see.
“Mmm, what’s this?” Jenna asked as she reached out for a bowl. “Smells delicious.”
“Just something I cooked up in honor of your twenty-eighth birthday.”
Jenna wrinkled her nose. “Let’s not talk numbers tonight.”
“Deal,” he said, settling back against the leather sofa. “As long as that also includes my numbers and that plan of yours.”
“God, it’s been forever since I’ve seen this movie. Remember how you loved Blaine?”“Yeah,” she said, blushing.
“I never got that, why you found him so hot. His hair really looked terrible in that prom scene.”
Jenna laughed. “You always say that.”
“Well, it did.”
“I’m sure you had the hots for Molly Ringwald. All the guys did.”
“Oh, the blonde then, the one dancing around in her underwear?”
“Definitely not her. I liked Andie, actually. Not Molly. But the character of Andie.”
Jenna shot him a sideways glance. “She was an outcast and kind of quirky, don’t you think?”
“What’s wrong with quirky?”
“Nothing.” A strange expression flickered across her face before she picked up her spoon and motioned to the bowl. “So, what do we have here?”
“Oh, just a little white chocolate and cream, and caramel filled chocolate squares, with some egg bread I had laying around. I suppose you’d call it chocolate caramel bread pudding.”
“I love bread pudding. I haven’t had a pudding like this since I left home. Although I know my mom never made anything this decadent.”
Bryce found himself grinning, filled with an absurd adolescent feeling of giddiness. He was always like this when someone waxed on about his cooking. He was even more giddy, he realized, when that someone was Jenna.
Jenna’s mom was a phenomenal cook, and Bryce knew that to wow Jenna was a difficult task. She was clearly wowed now, though. She was closing her eyes, savoring the sweet smell wafting up from the bowl.
She dug into the custard mixture with her spoon and was about to raise it to her mouth, when he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Wait.” She looked at him, and all of a sudden his heart did this weird flopping thing.
“What?” she asked, her voice so soft and quiet and so very feminine.
“I…” he licked his lips and pressed closer to her. “I just wanted to say Happy birthday.” He bent to kiss her cheek, something he’d done numerous times in their friendship. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he cupped her cheek and brought her forward, dragging his mouth against the curve of her ear and down lower to her jaw. God, she smelled good. And she felt good, so soft against his hand and mouth.
“Happy birthday,” he said once more, kissing the corner of her mouth, then he pulled away, horrified by his actions and wondering what she was going to say.
But true to Jenna form, she saved his ego by not making a big deal out of his lost control. Instead she smiled and pointed at the bowl with the tip of her spoon. “So what do you call this?”
“It needs a name. If it’s any good, that is.”
She smiled and raised a spoonful to her lips. Catching his gaze, she slid a bit of the steaming pudding into her mouth. With a groan, she closed her eyes. “Good? Bryce, this is awesome. This is…” she blushed and looked away.
He put his bowl down on the coffee table and cupped her cheek. “Tell me what you were gonna say.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. Bryce saw some struggle waged in her eyes before she lifted her lashes and looked fully at him.
“This is so good, it could be sex on a plate.”
His heart went into overdrive. Pressing closer, Bryce watched her take another bite. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice curiously hoarse.
“Yeah,” she replied in a rush of breath.
Her breasts pushed against the pink satin, her nipples pressing against the bodice. He watched as a lace strap slid down her shoulder. He reached out, hooking his finger beneath it, knowing he should slide it back onto her shoulder, but wanting to lower it, wanting to expose her breast—needing to feel all that soft flesh in his hand.
Her breath seemed to hitch, and so did his. What was he doing? Hell, what was she thinking, looking up at him like that?
“Do you want a bite?” she asked, her voice a little shy and tremulous.
He swallowed—hard. His fingers were still beneath the strap of her chemise, still frozen, immobilized against her soft skin. They started to move then, to brush the soft downy skin of her upper arm. His body heated as he felt the first flush of her goosebumps erupt beneath his fingertips.
“I want to watch you eat,” he said, feeling his erection harden even more.
She took another bite that was laden with chocolate and caramel. He watched, his mouth dry as she spooned the delicacy into her mouth and closed her eyes in blissful surrender.What would it be like to experience that sweetness as it coated her lips, her tongue? What would it be like to feed her and have her feed him, to taste that warm liquid chocolate as it dribbled its way over her breasts and belly?
Like a voyeur, he watched her eat, conscious of the way his body hardened and his lips parted as if he were eating each and every bite with her.
He wanted her spread on the table like a meal for him to devour at his leisure. He saw himself seated, Jenna spread atop the table, his tongue licking away the sweet rivers of chocolate as she moaned and begged him to eat—other, more pleasurable parts of her body.
Her gaze locked with his, and she held the silver spoon which was overflowing with custard and chocolate out to him. Unblinkingly, he sat forward and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He put the dessert in his mouth, and didn’t taste the rich chocolate, or the sweet caramel--the only taste he had was that of desire. The sweet, heady elixir was swimming in his mouth.
“Well?” she asked.
This time, he heard the breathless pant of desire in her voice, saw the flicker of awakening in her eyes. He swallowed slowly, then holding her gaze, he brought his mouth to hers until his lips brushed her lower one.
“Taste me, Jenna.”