Chapter One

Mr Sims was much as she had expected—a chef from head to toe, coming into her building’s lobby wearing a neatly pressed black jacket and chef trousers. He looked younger than she’d expected though, his twenty-five years looking more like twenty-one. Even in the grainy black and white security system feed, she knew he was going to be trouble. Jacob, as she fondly remembered calling him back when she’d first met him as a highly strung teenager fighting back against the pressures of living under his parents, had apparently grown up well.

Anne turned and checked her appearance in her bedroom mirror. Shaking her head, she knew the pretty, pale pink sweater and dark blue jeans wouldn’t do for today. Maybe for meeting anyone else, but not now that she’d seen the all-grown-up version of Jacob Sims. He’d been cute as a teenager but that forbidden image had turned into something greater than simply attractive. She glanced at the security feed again and licked her lips. No, he was much more than what she had anticipated, and the thrill of having the handsome man so close made a shiver run along her spine.

She stripped quickly then put her jeans and sweater over the back of her cream reading chaise. It wouldn’t take Jacob long to get upstairs, especially if he took the elevator. But she didn’t need a lot of time to step into a short, flowing tan skirt and a button down lace shirt either. She’d been barefoot before, which was comfortable but not exactly sexy. Some strappy heels completed her outfit and she was sitting at her dining room table by the time a loud knock sounded on her front door.

“Come in,” she called, adding a bit of a sultry edge to her voice. There was no guarantee the wide-shouldered, black-haired man would even be interested, she reminded herself, but it never hurt to try.

“Chef Mato?” he asked, entering her large apartment with quiet footsteps.

“Hello, Jacob,” she greeted him, smiling. “Did you bring your knives?” Anne didn’t get up to meet him, instead she crossed one leg over the other, letting her loose skirt slide up her thigh. She watched for any reaction, any telltale sign that he was interested in her. His father had said he’d been available, but parents rarely knew, and if he were seeing someone she’d stop this play. But if he wasn’t, this afternoon was going to get very interesting indeed.

“Yes, Chef,” he answered automatically. Anne nodded, pleased. He was disciplined and well trained. All of his professors at the culinary institute had said so. He’d probably called his parents ‘Chef’ more often than ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’.

He stood in her entryway, her beautiful kitchen between them. Though he said nothing, the way his eyes drifted to her double ovens, her gas, six-burner stove and the pristine white granite counter tops told her he was envious of her set up. Good, she’d worked very hard for many years and had given up a great deal personally to be able to have everything she did now.

“With your knives, you’re all ready for the interview,” she informed him. “Ale is my baby, the first restaurant I opened less than six months after graduating from the culinary institute. I was told that I was crazy for buying a restaurant when I was so young, that I needed more training.” She curled her fingers around the spindled oak back of her chair. “But Ale has grown and blossomed for ten years now. It has been the restaurant to beat for the past four years in a row and I intend to keep that tradition going with the next executive chef to take it over.”

“Yes, Chef.” His response was strong and Anne believed he might be the one to take her restaurant over. His training certainly suggested it. And he had pride to spare.

“When your father suggested that I interview you for the position, I was hesitant,” she continued. His face fell, but his smile didn’t slip. She had to know that he could take criticism along with compliments. Maybe by the end of this interview, he’d figure out that everything was a test of his resolve to prove he could be her next executive chef. She would never allow someone weak to be under her, in bed or on the line. “But he assured me that you not only possess the necessary skills but also the heart for this profession. Do you think you do?”

His gaze didn’t waver from hers. “Yes, Chef.”

Smiling, Anne nodded. “Then don’t prove him wrong. Make me your signature dish. My pantry and fridge are both well stocked. You’ve got an hour. Begin.”

Unlike the last three idiots she’d interviewed, Jacob didn’t hesitate at this stage. He simply acted. The first man she’d interviewed hadn’t finished in the allotted hour, but at least he’d tried. The second had looked at her dumbly, not understanding what she was asking for. The third had made her a simple salad that had taken all of five minutes for him to toss together then over-dress. She’d thrown him out promptly.

Jacob glanced up at her from time to time as he gathered things from her orderly kitchen. She’d set up her home like she did her restaurant intentionally. The transition was effortless for her, as it should be for him. Though a chef didn’t need to live his career outside of the restaurant, it should be in his everyday thoughts and actions. Quality, precision, timing. These foundations were everything, and mattered just as much as taste, presentation and creativity to her.

Anne watched him carefully, judging not only his knife work but his discipline as well. It took a rare person to thrive as an executive chef. The wrong choice in a new hire could kill an established restaurant. The right one would grow with it. Too often, owners settled for less than perfect because of a need to fill that spot in their line. Fortunately for Anne, she had no real need to move on. It was time and she had desires of opening a second restaurant. But there was no immediacy that came with that decision. She’d wait as long as she had to in order to find the perfect fit for her beloved Ale. Nothing less than that would do.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” she instructed.

He faltered for a moment, appearing unsure of himself, but he had to do this as well in her line. There were always times when an executive chef had to instruct a sous chef about a particular skill or style of doing something. In her restaurant she was the leader as well as a teacher. Her top candidate would have to be as well.

“I’m seasoning the potatoes with rosemary and a pinch of salt,” Jacob answered her.

Anne nodded. “Why?”

His full lips quirked up into a smile. “Salt brings out the flavour of most foods, just like acidity does, and rosemary gives potatoes a sweet, earthy taste that will go perfectly with the steak I’m making.”

He worked as he spoke, just as Anne had expected him to. Being a TV chef’s son meant he’d probably spent many hours helping his mom prepare for an episode. Anne didn’t know his mother well, not as well as she knew his father anyway, but she’d seen her shows a few times. She’d even watched her perform once a few years back, when Anne had been a guest chef on Taste, the network that aired his mom’s programme. Sadly the name of it escaped her at that moment.

Jacob brought the steak out of the fridge, letting it warm to room temperature. Though she was proud of him for remembering to let the meat come to temperature before finishing it off, she showed no reaction. He had to know that he was doing the correct thing because it was what he’d been told to do, not because she encouraged him at each step.

She parted her lips and quickly licked them. He was beautiful to watch, his concentration on his task complete as he moved around her large kitchen. A warmth grew in her core and spread through her breasts and thighs at the sight of him. Her nipples strained against the silk of her bra and she took a sip of the cucumber water beside her, eager to sate her desire for him but needing to cool it for the moment. If he was as good in bed as he was in her kitchen, she’d be quite satisfied this afternoon. He would be too, she’d make sure of it of course…but she wasn’t thinking about him for the moment.

Selfishness, ambition and drive were hardly unique to their field, but without them a good chef could never be great. And she needed great. Nothing less than that would do.

He pulled out her stove-top grill and waited for it to get hot. A bit uncertain of him and his methods, she watched him intently. He had to get this part right. Everything else had to be perfect as well, but potatoes could be saved, as could whatever else he served with her steak. But a steak, once ruined, was impossible to make right again. And so she watched, her breath catching, as he moved the potatoes around the pan with some butter and rosemary and waited for the pan to heat until that perfect moment when it was just right. He seasoned the meat with a bit of salt and pepper and put it down on the grill. The inviting sound of a loud sizzle went through her kitchen and she smiled, knowing he’d got that part right. He wasn’t out of the clear yet but he was much closer, and he’d managed to impress her with his knowledge of simple food as well.

After washing his hands, he chopped fresh herbs, his wide shoulders moving under the stiff material of his chef jacket as he worked. His refusal to cross-contaminate her food was another bonus factor for him, as a firm grasp of the basics was the only foundation for growth. He tasted at each step, seasoning when needed. His skills were impressive but she wouldn’t know just how much until she’d tasted his meal.

A few minutes later, he clicked off her stove and began plating her lunch. His hands were steady, his movements sure. The plate he presented her was less stylish than the ones his Las Vegas chef dad created every day, but they were simple enough for her Ale. The steak was the centrepiece, the red potatoes and asparagus creating a wreath around it.

“Describe it,” she instructed him, her mouth watering as the sweet smells drifted up to her. And, she noticed with a further sniff, a hint of her signature Candied Pale Ale, a favourite at her restaurant. She hadn’t seen him grab the bottle while he’d been cooking, but, as she watched, he quickly provided her with it and a glass.

“Chef, what I’ve prepared for you today is a simply seasoned rib-eye steak with rosemary red potatoes and garlic asparagus. I’ve finished it off with a glaze of your Candied Pale Ale, which has just the right notes of candied nuts and cinnamon to bring your meal together. Enjoy.” He stepped back, looking proud of himself and satisfied with the dish he’d prepared.

As he should. The presentation of it was subtle and paired well with her restaurant’s image. Also, the use of her ale was a bit of a genius move, and one none of the others had even considered. It showed that not only did he enjoy cooking and knew what went together, but that he was already familiar with her restaurant and the ingredients in the ales he would potentially be working with.

He waited off to the side while she cut into her steak. It was a beautiful medium rare. She hadn’t given a preference and he hadn’t asked, but he knew enough to know that the default when his customer hadn’t given him a temperature was medium rare. It was the safest bet when dealing with all red meats and he was one smart cookie for remembering that.

After cutting off a piece of the steak, she took a bite and moaned with honest enthusiasm as the tender meat hit her tongue, the ale infused glaze aiding it in both sweetness and acidity to expertly balance the meat. She ate a little of the asparagus and the potatoes next. All nicely prepared, well-seasoned and correctly portioned for a dinner entrée.

Dotting her lips with a linen napkin, she hid her satisfied smile. “What did your father tell you when he sent you for this interview?” she asked, rising from the chair.

He looked surprised for a moment but quickly came to his senses and answered her. “He told me not to disappoint you. That a position at Ale could make my career, as it has for many of your sous chefs.”

She set the plate aside, having had her fill of the light tasting. His skills were on par with what she’d expected and his knowledge was exactly what she was looking for. He was green but had the background to make up for any lacking in his training. And his skills weren’t in question—his ability to follow orders and perform at the pass were, and she wouldn’t know his abilities there for a while longer. However, those things could be trained into the right chef. She wasn’t looking for an egotistical, highly experienced chef to run her Ale. What she wanted—and needed—was someone who could be worked with and moulded into being her next executive chef. An older, more experienced chef often came with his own ideas and lots of baggage. Anne had dealt with a few like that in her time and she wasn’t eager to do it again.

“What would you do to Ale if you became the executive chef?” she asked him.

Jacob appeared to hesitate. “What would I do…? I’m sorry, Chef, but I don’t quite understand what you mean. I wouldn’t do anything. I’d run it the best that I could of course. But I wouldn’t burn it down or anything like that.” He chuckled, sounding nervous.

Anne smiled, hoping to ease his fears somewhat, though it probably wouldn’t work. He was new to the world of being a professional chef—despite having watched it through his parents’ eyes since he was a small child. But coming into a career of his own had to be a bit intimidating for someone so young. She remembered it being that way too. Thankfully, when she was even younger than he was now, she’d had a good mentor who had shown her more than simply how to julienne a jicama.

“Maybe you’d like to give the menu a bit of a facelift? My favourites are on there, what would you like to add to it?” she asked him.

The handsome man really was her last, and best, hope for a qualified executive chef. She didn’t need him running because she’d scared him off this early. Still, if he couldn’t take a bit of pressure there really was no hope for him in this field. Chefs were a bunch of competitive assholes sometimes, herself included, and there had been plenty of sous chefs who had called her a bitch either before or after she’d thrown them out of her restaurant. She refused to put up with morons or assholes for any reason.

He swallowed loudly. “I’d add some rarer game meets.”

She twirled her hand. “Go on. This idea might have some merit.”

“Well, there are plenty of steak houses around.” He paused as she raised her eyebrows. “Though none nearly as good as Ale. Everyone knows it’s the best.”

Her ego placated, she smiled at him and he appeared encouraged by the gesture as he took a step closer and returned her smile.

“But maybe it could be even better if a few new choices were added. I’d keep them simply seasoned and present them in classical, easy to recognise ways. Like the staple of steak and potatoes. Only with your dark oak ale and a bison steak.”

Anne tapped her fingers against her chin. “The idea has potential. But bison, while a bit exotic, isn’t impossible to find here. It requires a visit to a speciality shop instead of the big chains for a good cut, but it’s still not extreme. Think bigger. What are your favourite meats that no one else has?” Anne could think of more than a few but hadn’t considered bringing them into Ale because she didn’t see the surrounding area as ready for a nice plate of anything more exotic than a roasted guinea hen stuffed with capers and a lemon cream sauce.

But maybe Jacob was right. Perhaps the market was growing up, their taste buds expanding in a new, more rewarding direction. A great steak was still a fantastic meal and she’d never allow the various cuts that she kept as staples on the menu to be taken off. But there was always room in a good restaurant to grow and change if it wanted to survive for another decade. And she planned on keeping Ale around for a lot longer than that.

“Rabbit,” he began, looking as if he were thinking aloud as he leant back against the island and looked up at her old, rail station style lanterns. They were antiques transformed to work with modern technology—a blending of an old, stylish classic and modern convenience.

“That’s a good start, but just offering a roasted rabbit dish won’t cut it. Come on, Jacob, think a bit more. I know you’ve got something else under that shiny head of black hair. Give me something more,” Anne demanded.

He blushed, whether from embarrassment or something else she couldn’t tell, and she wasn’t about to ask. He’d have to do better than that if he wanted this job, though if she were honest with herself, he was already miles ahead of anyone else she’d interviewed.

Jacob’s green eyes met hers solidly. Anne challenged him, refusing to look away. He was young and needed discipline, training and more experience. She was willing to give it to him, in whatever capacity he wanted, but he had to know his place as well, and it would only be over her when she allowed it.

He looked away first and Anne smiled, knowing he’d start to learn his way soon enough. Especially if he stayed near her for any length of time. Which she secretly hoped he did.

“Ostrich,” he blurted.

Anne raised a dark eyebrow. “What do you know of ostrich, Jacob? If I were to give you a loin, how would you prepare it?”

He fidgeted for a moment but quickly recovered, this time looking far more in control of himself and sure of his answer. “Ostrich is an exceptionally lean meat that takes well to a variety of flavours. A quick sear works for it, though roasting it allows for more flavour to get in there.”

Though he sounded like he was reciting something out of a rare meats textbook, Anne had to give him credit for thinking on his feet. It was another skill all chefs needed to learn right away. She wouldn’t allow him free rein with her brigade immediately, in fact she imagined that the transition would take a good six months before he’d truly be the executive chef she’d be comfortable leaving her Ale with. But he had a glimmer of the man she wanted in that position.

Among others.

Anne nodded and approached him, her heels clicking against the pale, travertine tile below her. She brushed her fingertips against the light stubble of his jaw and chin. He appeared uncertain, his arms frozen to his sides as she trailed her fingers down the side of his throat to rest against the exposed patch of his collar bone where the jacket split.

“Are you seeing anyone, Jacob?” she asked him. She had a code—if he said yes she would walk away. He’d get the job, he was perfect for it. But she would not explore this attraction to him outside of her own mind. But if he wasn’t…well… That possibility was as tantalising as fresh strawberries with aged balsamic vinegar and rich chocolate custard. She licked her lips, the thoughts of her favourite indulgence reminding her of what else she enjoyed. Namely beautiful men like Jacob.

He shook his head. “I’m not. Are…” He swallowed thickly and Anne watched, fascinated as his Adam’s apple bobbed against the pad of her thumb. “Are you?”

Smiling, she undid the first button on his jacket. “No. You’ve got a choice to make here, Jacob. And you’ve got the job, so don’t think that your decision in this matter is at all dependent on your position at Ale. That one is sealed for you. This would be a private, extremely discrete matter between the two of us. Do you understand?”

“I think I do.”

He sounded uncertain and his beautiful green eyes shifted to the side, further adding to her suspicion that what would come next would throw him off guard.

“I want you in my bed. For this afternoon at the very least.” Anne undid the next of his buttons, a surge of heat spreading down her legs. She shifted, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure. “You’ll do as I say and enjoy submitting to my desires above your own. Do well and this could be something more long-term. Share what happens between us with anyone else and you’ll never be invited back.”

His eyes went wide as he stared down at her and, for a fraction of a moment, Anne was afraid she’d misjudged him. But then he bent his head, opened up to her and offered himself for a kiss. She took his mouth eagerly, tasting the meal he’d made for her on his tongue and leaning into his touch as he brought his muscular arms around her back. He held her close, drifting his hands over her shoulders and back, trailing them down her spine.

She undid the remaining buttons on his jacket, the little black dots moving under her experienced hands. Someone else might have simply torn his jacket from him. But she knew how important a chef’s jacket was in their profession and she wouldn’t do that to him—or it—just for the sake of getting to him faster. She had plenty of time to enjoy him all she wanted. His jacket slid off his shoulders and she ran her hands over his arms and the sleeveless tank he wore underneath. It went as well, joining his jacket on the counter behind him as he reached his big hands down to cup her ass, pulling her tight against him. Anne lifted her leg and hooked it around his waist, giving him better access as he slid his hands to the slit between her thighs and hooked his fingers on the silk of her panties.

He tried to tug them down and she stepped away, not wanting to fuck him in her kitchen, because that was where this was leading. “Not yet, Jacob. In my bed,” she panted, giving him an explanation as she moved farther away from him, putting some space between them. The separation was difficult for her and she glanced around, looking for a suitable surface for them. Finding none, she went back to her original idea of having him in her large and quite comfortable bed.

He nodded. “Show me the way.”

Smiling, she took his hand and pulled him through her apartment to the last door at the end of the hall. She stepped into her beautiful pale blue bedroom. It was tidy and perfectly put together with a mix of Victorian touches and modern accessories. None of that mattered to her now though, as she moved Jacob to her bed.

“Undress me,” she demanded, holding her arms out to him. She was worried he might become a placid man whom she could easily control. If he was, she’d be bored of him within the hour. But he surprised her by obeying her order in his own way. He lifted her onto the bed and covered her with his big body, resting her against the thick mattress. His hips dipped against the V in her thighs, pressing his hard cock against the silk of her panties as her skirt bunched up around her thighs.

His kisses were erratic—he worshipped first her lips then her cheek before he trailed his tongue down to her neck and he worked his fingers on the buttons of her blouse. The thin material fell away, exposing her breasts to him. Groaning, he rubbed the outside of her pussy through her panties, making her moist as he sucked at her hard nipples through the silk of her bra. He soaked the material then quickly moved on to the next, moaning into her breasts as he moved against her, grinding her into the bed beneath them.

“My clothes,” Anne reminded him, gasping and eager to get to the next step, where she’d see a grown up Jacob naked and begging beneath her. But first he’d have to please her. Then, if he was good, she’d let him inside.

“Right. Sorry.” He lifted himself up, balancing on one arm as he helped take off her shirt then reached behind her to undo her bra. She gasped as her bra came away, exposing her to the cool air. Her nipples tightened and she brought her fingers away from his thick shoulders in order to tease them into hard peaks.

Jacob kissed down her sternum, then her belly, circling her navel with his tongue then sliding her skirt and panties off in one quick motion.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he gasped, bringing his hands up to her hips as he moved his tongue along her inner thighs.

Anne smiled. She kept in shape, fortunately keeping her curves in the process as well. Men loved her breasts and she enjoyed having them played with. “Now you,” she said, nodding to his pants. She kicked off her heels then brought one of her hands to her swollen folds while keeping the other on her breast. She played roughly with her nipple, squeezing hard enough to feel pain as she watched him take off the rest of his clothes.

His muscular stomach ended in a thatch of dark curls and she followed them down with her eyes to his thick cock, standing proudly against his stomach. She licked her lips, imagining how good he’d feel inside her, how she’d stretch around him as he filled her. He got on the bed again, kneeling between her thighs, and stroked his cock from tip to base, spreading the clear pre-cum around. He leant forward, moving up her body but she stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Not yet,” she said, grinning as she slid her hand to his hair.

“No?”

Anne shook her head. “Lick me first.”

It took a moment for him to figure out what she meant but when he did he gave her a little smile. She kept a firm hand on his head and spread her thighs, making more room for him on the bed. The first warm puff of his breath against her clit sent shivers through her, making her throb for him. Then his tongue pressed her stiff nub and all breath escaped her lungs. She tightened her hand in his hair and held him to her clit. He moved her thighs to his shoulders and she crossed her ankles over his spine, pulling him in even closer as he stroked her sensitive clit with his tongue.

Anne trembled against his mouth, moaning as he worked his way between her thighs and teased her clit. “Damn you’re good at this,” she panted. His deep chuckle sent breaths of hot air over her body and she shivered in his hold.

He slid a finger into her warmth, causing her to buck against him. A second finger quickly joined the first, stretching her and making her gasp. The heat in her core coiled into a tight ball, threatening to send her over the edge. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Just thinking about him being under her pushed her climax closer and she moaned loudly. Not yet. She’d come when he was in her.

“Jacob… Stop…” she gasped. “Fuck. I’m going to come.”

He grinned up at her, his green eyes sparkling wickedly. “Then do it. Let me taste you.”

Tempting as his offer was, she wouldn’t give in that easily. “Soon. When you’re buried inside me.”

He gulped and nodded, slowly sitting back up. When he was kneeling, she crawled towards him then lay on her belly between his thighs. The length of his thick cock was in front of her and she pressed her cheek against it, feeling its weight against her cool skin. “Hands behind you, hang onto the footboard,” she commanded as he reached for her. He hesitated. Though she was looking squarely at his cock, she saw his right hand clench then release. After a moment or two of indecision, he appeared to take her command for exactly what it was—an order—and did as she’d told him.

She breathed in his scent deeply and nuzzled the base of his cock with the tip of her nose. He was young, perfect and all male. Exactly what she needed at that moment. And, given a bit of direction, he appeared to take orders fairly well. She didn’t doubt that if she kept him around there would be a few missteps here and there, but she could deal with them. She hadn’t been around a well-trained sub in over a year and the peace of having a perfectly willing partner was so very tempting.

Anne licked her lips then ran them along the underside of Jacob’s cock, making him jump erratically and suck in his breath on a wild hiss that sent shivers along her spine. He moved forward, pushing his cock against her mouth and though it may have been simply a reaction, it could not be allowed to continue. “Uh huh,” she scolded him. “You move when I give you permission. Not before. This is my playtime. You had yours. Now be a good boy and hold still.”

“Yes, Chef.” His quiet acceptance sent a shiver of desire through her. As did his formal use of her title. Though she’d called him by his name, he hadn’t broken formality and called her by her own. The difference he clearly placed between them thrilled and excited her, making her even wetter.

Grinning wickedly, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and pulled upward towards his swollen head. She brought her lips to his sac, sucking him as she moved her hand over his thick length. She teased him, alternating between her hand and tongue as she stroked his shaft. The low noises coming from his throat told her he was becoming increasingly desperate for his own climax. Good, she wanted him on the edge—somewhere between desperation and madness was where she found her greatest pleasure. And today she’d be sharing that moment with him.

Smiling and very nearly throbbing with need, she slid back onto her knees, though she was sure to keep her hand on him, her pale fingers a brilliant contrast to the tanned muscles of his lower stomach.

“Lie down on your back, arms above your head,” she instructed him.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” he asked softly, his warm green eyes following her movements as she rose from the bed.

Chuckling, Anne went to her dresser. It gleamed in the soft light of the room, its ebony surface recently restored to its original glory. It looked new, with barely a mark on it despite being from the early 1800’s. She’d paid a hefty price to make sure of it. “Would you like that?” she asked, running her fingers along the gleaming surface of the dark wood. Aside from her knives, this piece was her most prized possession. And it held her greatest desires.

“Yes.”

She pulled open the small top drawer and took out a soft, finely braided flogger that had cost her more than most chefs made in a month. But for the quality she desired, the price was no object. She brought it down with a loud smack against her outer thigh, testing the familiar weight of the piece in her hands and the bite of the strands against her heated skin before reaching in to pluck a small foil package from the box she always kept at the ready.

Anne turned towards Jacob, pleased to see that he had followed her instructions and stretched himself over the bed, his arms hanging loosely over her footboard. His heavy cock stood erect against his stomach, asking to be fucked, while the warmth of his gaze nearly begged for the same. Keeping the flogger close by her side, she walked around to the foot of the bed. Her thighs brushed against his fingertips but he made no move to grab for her. Bending low, she rewarded his control with a kiss.

“You grew up well, Jacob.” She straightened up then pulled the silk ties from the bottom of the bed along with the thin pillow she kept for just such an occasion as this.

“Thank you, Chef.” He watched her, tilting his head to see what she was doing as she placed a pillow under his wrists to keep them from becoming sore against the wooden footboard. She secured his arms above his head, checking each of his wrists to make sure the silk wasn’t too tight.

“Has anyone ever tied you down before?” she asked, coming back to the side of the bed.

He shook his head and tested his wrists. “No, Chef.”

Watching him carefully, she was pleased to see that the restraints didn’t appear to upset him. There was no worry or fear in his face, only curiosity and the heady desire that flushed his tanned cheeks.

“You’ll have a safe word,” she informed him, her fingers stilling on the tight muscles of his forearms.

“I don’t want one.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “Too bad. I want you to say ‘marmalade’ if you need to be let go. Can you do that for me, Jacob?”

“Yes, Chef.”

His breath caught as she joined him on the bed, placing a thigh on either side of his slender hips. Placing the flogger on the bed beside her knee, she carefully opened the condom wrapper and, after tossing the trash into the bin beside her headboard, slid the rubber over his engorged cock.

He made no protest to her safety concerns. Perhaps he was just that smart since he couldn’t possibly have known that asking to go without a condom would have had him thrown out on his naked ass. She smiled down at him and positioned herself over his cock. Kissing him, she tasted herself on his lips and felt his cock jerk forward to hit her hand as she guided him towards her body. Anne gasped loudly as he entered her, her body easily adjusting to his unfamiliar shaft. She moved against him, breathing him in as his cock slowly pushed inside her.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, breaking their kiss.

Anne moaned, agreeing with him fully as her heavy breasts rubbed against the thin hairs of his chest. She whimpered, lowering herself fully onto his cock then leaning back, trying him out. He was an amazing fit, large enough to fill her completely and thick enough to stretch her around his width. She rolled her hips, helping him hit all of the best parts within her, then reached for her flogger.

His eyes followed her hand as she lifted it then draped the fine strands over her sensitive breasts. “Know what this is?”

He shook his head.

“A flogger. The sensation of it hitting skin is delicious.” She demonstrated for him on her belly, the wide patch of red lines and the heat that followed them making her shiver. His cock jumped and she smiled, knowing the unconscious reaction for what it was—an interest in knowing what the flogger felt like.

Anne brought the strands down gently against his chest, following the path of the flogger over his nipples with her eyes as she teased him. “Tell me now, Jacob, can you be marked?”

He sucked in a breath. “Yes, Chef.”

Smiling, Anne nodded and brought the flogger a few inches above his left nipple. “Do you want to be?”

He squirmed and managed a small smile.

“Tell me.”

His smile turned into a frown but he didn’t exactly look upset. More confused. “I want to be marked,” he tried, sounding hesitant.

Her smile quirked. “Do you really? That sounded more like a question. I think you can do better.”

Jacob flushed and his green eyes grew brighter but he didn’t back down. “Mark me please, Chef,” he tried again.

Anne bent down and rewarded him with long kiss. “Very good. I’ll give you anything you ask for, except freedom. You’ll get that after you’ve come. But not until I tell you that you can. Unless you use your safe word, and then this will all be over,” she said, leaning back. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Good boy. Now, fuck me.” Her voice ended on a hoarse groan as he immediately did what she’d asked, bringing his knees up and using his heels against her comforter for leverage. His thrusts were needy and erratic, showing just how turned on he was. Surprisingly she found herself enjoying the uncertain beat of his cock inside her pussy. Pressing one hand to his shoulder for balance, she kept up with him, moaning loudly as he moved inside her.

“Your tits look fucking amazing bouncing like that,” he groaned.

“Such words coming from a beautiful mouth,” she teased him. Anne tilted her head, moving her long hair all to the other side so that it could brush against her hard nipple and tease her further. Lifting the flogger, she brought it down experimentally against his shoulder, the faint red lines trailing onto his chest. Though he stilled for a moment, he didn’t stop and the cry that fell from his lips was one of passion, not pain.

“Like it?” she asked, her voice thick as she bent her head to soothe the lines with her tongue.

“Yes. Again.”

She continued to lick his faint wounds. “Ask nicely.”

“Whip me again, Chef,” he said, his voice coming out as barely more than a panting sigh.

Smiling, she straightened up and brought it down across his other shoulder, shivering as the tendrils curled around her wrist before streaking over his tanned skin. His breath caught on a moan. She didn’t ask him the next time, or the time after that as she brought the flogger down against his chest and stomach, each time making him jump.

“More. More please,” he begged, moving his head from side to side against her comforter. His thick arms were bunched as he strained against the silk ties.

Anne leaned over him, the flogger falling against her hip as she tossed it to the side. Instead she grabbed his silky black hair between her fingers and gave him a sharp tug. He groaned and moved his face towards her arm.

“You’re a serious kink,” he gasped as she tugged again.

Grinning, Anne nodded and nipped at his chin. “You’ve got no idea. Now, stop struggling against the silk. We aren’t done yet. Not nearly. Hope you didn’t have anywhere to go this afternoon because you’re not going to make it.”

Jacob shook his head. “I’m yours for as long as you want me. All night even.”

Anne released his hair and trailed her fingers down the side of his face, her short nails digging into his cheek. “We could get up to a lot of mischief if I kept you all night, Jacob.” She leant back, his thick cock stilling as she moved. Anne considered his offer. A night of having this broad shouldered man under her, letting her play with him as much as she wanted was quite a tempting offer. She’d have to consider it fully. After she’d enjoyed him for now, of course.

Anne rolled her hips over him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core and up into her breasts. She ground against him, making her own rhythm as his fell away. He watched her, his mouth falling open as she reached up to cup her breasts and play with her nipples.

“Tell me what you’d do to me,” she demanded. “If you had your hands free.”

He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. “Slam your hips onto my cock and fuck you harder than anyone ever has before.”

She grinned. “That’s a pretty tall order. I usually like it rough.”

“And I’d give it to you that way,” he promised, his voice husky.

“Tell me more,” she said, sighing as she brought her fingers to his mouth. Without her having to ask for it, he sucked her fingers until she pulled them away. Anne brought her moistened fingers to her clit, rubbing herself and his cock at the same time as she rose and fell against him in a steady motion.

Jacob nodded, appearing eager to tell her what she wanted to hear. “I’d take your hair and wrap it around my wrist and pull it back, forcing your head up as I fucked you from behind, so deep you’d feel it all the way down in your body and wouldn’t soon forget what it felt like to have me fucking you. I’d make you beg, make you scream my name when you came around my cock.”

Anne groaned between quiet laughter as she bent over him. She licked his nipples, causing him to squirm under her as he fought against the ties. “You think you can do all that?” she asked, not looking up at him as she sucked his hard nipple into her mouth.

“I know I can. Let me show you. Promise you won’t regret it.”

Anne trembled, the switch inside her loving to both be dominated and to dominate. And Jacob’s words were exactly what she’d wanted to hear. A man who could talk like that was rare, but he’d be a real gem if he could back his words up with truth in his actions. She untied his hands in quick, sure movements.

“You have the control now, Chef,” she said, making the transition deliberately obvious to him. “Don’t make me regret it.” Anne sat back, waiting for him to act as he rubbed his pink wrists. She didn’t have to wait long—he brought his knees up quickly, forcing her to fall forward over his chest. He twisted his hand in her hair and yanked her head back as he brought her left breast to his mouth. He sucked hard on her nipple and squeezed her tender flesh hard enough to bruise her as he rapidly thrust into her wet pussy.

“Fuck yes, Chef,” she moaned. “Fuck me harder. Harder, Chef, harder.”

He did as she’d asked, eager to please her even when he’d been given control of her body, and she felt herself losing focus on top of him. She gasped as he released her nipple and went still under her. She pouted, wondering what the hell he was doing until he moved her off him, tossing her onto the bed beside him. He kept his promise and held onto her hair as he yanked her legs back against him.

“God, your ass is perfect,” he said, running his free hand over her hip and butt cheek. Flushing deeply, she gasped loudly as his hand came down on first one cheek then the other. He squeezed, pulling at her soft flesh before he spanked her again.

Then, in one smooth motion that took her breath away, he entered her again and began pounding inside her pussy as if he hadn’t missed a beat. She moaned, her breasts bouncing wildly with his thrusts as he tugged on her hair, forcing her neck back.

“Tell me you like it,” he gasped.

Anne smiled. “I fucking love it, Chef. Your big cock feels so good in me.”

He groaned. “Yes. Just like that. Tell me.”

Feeling hotter than she had all day, Anne nodded as much as his hand in her hair allowed. “I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you come into my building through my security feed,” she confessed. “You were cute years ago but now you’re practically divine.”

“Back then, when we met,” he said between loud groans, “I knew I wanted you under me. You were my dad’s friend, a professional colleague. And someone I didn’t think would ever notice me.”

Anne chuckled. “Oh, I noticed. But jail isn’t exactly an ideal place for me. But now, now you’re hardly off limits.”

He released her hair to put both hands on her hips and Anne fell forward, her head resting against the mattress.

“I fantasised about you all through college and was so hard coming up here I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to walk. Your breasts, your ass, the way you lick a spoon after you taste something on the shows you used to host. You made this chocolate torte once and moaned right after trying it. I fucking nearly came in my pants right there in the middle of class.”

She smiled, his words thrilling her as his cock bounced inside her pussy. Anne reached between her legs with one hand and balanced on the other. She wasn’t surprised to find her pussy soaking wet. Jacob was a fantastic fuck, one of the best she’d had in a long time. He smacked her ass again, sending shock waves of need through her body.

“I’m close,” she moaned, the tight ball in her core coiling together and threatening to send her off to oblivion with the slightest provocation.

“All right,” Jacob said, sounding out of breath as he sped up. “Tell me what you need.”

Anne closed her eyes. Cutting off that one sense allowed her to focus on the others. The sound of his breath, the warmth of his hands on her hips, the thrusting of his cock into her pussy. His short nails dug into her skin and she knew there would be small crescent moon marks to go with the bruises tomorrow. Being marked by Jacob was nearly enough to throw her over the edge of her pleasure and send her cascading to the bottom. Almost. But she needed a bit more than that in this moment. “The flogger,” she gasped. “Use it on me.”

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating.

“Yes!” she hissed, nearly whining in her frustration with him. It was so simple, such a tiny task. And he had to question her on it and—

“Oh!” Anne moaned as the first swipe of the flogger came down across her back, surprising her. It wrapped around her arm, caressing the side of her breast before moving over her back and across to her other side. “Again, Chef, please mark me again. I need it. I want it so badly.”

Without a word he brought the flogger down across her lower back. The tiny threads bit against the top of her ass, close to where they were connected. She threw her head back and moaned loudly. He whipped her again, this time without having to be told, as her pussy tightened around his cock.

“Oh yeah, Anne, come for me. Come around my cock. Scream my name,” he groaned, tossing the flogger to the side and moved his hands back to her ass, digging his fingers into her sensitive flesh as he fucked her hard and fast.

He leaned over her back, taking her breast in his hand and roughly squeezing her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. She groaned and turned towards him, eager for a kiss.

“You like this huh? I saw you playing with your nipples. Damn tease you are. Tying me up so that I couldn’t touch you too,” he whispered. “Next time you’re the one getting tied down while I fuck you till you’re sore.”

She grinned and kissed him again. “So sure you’re getting a return invite?”

He chuckled and yanked on her hair. “Hell yes. You’re enjoying this too much to make this a one-time thing.”

Anne cried out, unable to say anything against his logic. Especially when the heat coiling in her belly exploded, sending a tidal wave of emotion and pleasure through her arms and chest, ending in her fingertips and toes. She slumped into the bed, unable to keep herself upright as the aftershocks of her pleasure worked through her body, leaving her breathless and boneless under him.

“Come for me,” she whispered, watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

His green eyes bright, Jacob nodded and surged into her. A moment later he cried out her name as well, so loud that her neighbours probably heard him. But she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn as he flopped onto the bed next to her, sweaty and breathless. Anne reached for him, taking his trembling fingers in her own as she closed her eyes and let a sex-sated exhaustion take its hold on her body and mind.

His phone interrupted the quiet moments that followed. Taking his first full breath in nearly ten minutes, Jacob slowly sat up. Anne lay asleep next to him, her steady breathing telling him all he needed to know about her state. He smiled down at her, loving that she’d enjoyed herself so much. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with women, but none of the girls he’d slept with in college had done anything to him like Anne had. And it wasn’t just the kink. He rose on trembling legs and reached for the nightstand, afraid of losing his balance otherwise.

Now to go find the source of what had disturbed his perfect after-sex moment with the hottest woman he’d ever been around, and the one he could easily see himself losing his heart to. He found his phone in the pocket of his pants and dug it out. The shiny silver face showed three new text messages. The first two, from his best friend, he ignored. Whether or not he was going to the party tonight was not on his top ten most pressing issues list for the moment.

The last one, from his father, also came with a voicemail—he must have got impatient. Chancing a look back at Anne to make sure she was still fast asleep, he silently left the bedroom, making sure to close the door behind himself. He wanted Anne awake, and very soon, but not until she’d rested for a bit. He wasn’t nearly done with her yet.

“Jacob,” his voicemail began, “Call me when you get this. I want to know how your interview with Chef Anne went. Remember, she can be hard on the chefs under her, but it’s for your own good. If you let her teach and lead you she can take you places in your career. Just listen to her and do as she says. I know you’ll do well.”

Pressing the number to erase the message, Jacob snorted. His father had no idea how right he’d been. Chef Anne was bossy, demanding and sexy as hell. Even now, after having the best sex of his life, his cock protested being away from her as it started to get hard again. Shit, he had to get himself under control. He’d come in hard—leaving the same way almost seemed like bad form. But maybe Anne would help him out with that again. His gaze went to the closed door behind him and he imagined the sleeping woman he’d left on the bed. She was gorgeous, but there was so much more than that. He’d admired her for years, built his career around hers and had practically worshipped her since the first time he’d seen her cook.

He bit his lower lip, thinking better of pushing his luck with the older woman who had shown him just how she liked to control the men under her. And there it was. His cock got hard again at the image of Anne sitting on him, her big tits bouncing as she rode his cock. He’d been tied down and damn unfair that had been of her, but once she’d released him and he’d got to touch her, it had made the desire to do so much stronger. If every time was like that no wonder Anne liked it so much.

He’d done kink before with girls in his past. Sort of. It hadn’t been anything like this. With them he’d been playing or simply trying out a fantasy or something he’d seen in porn. This was a full blown orgasm for his mind. Which sounded corny but actually made perfect sense to him, at least—Anne had not only turned on his body, but his brain had been engaged too. It was probably the most amazing sexual experience he’d ever had and he really hoped it wouldn’t be his last chance with her. That would just be too miserable of a thing to consider. If he never got to touch her again, to feel her breasts in his hands or her full mouth sighing against his as he entered her… No. He shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it. Anne would just have to accept that he was in her life now, as someone to fuck silly whenever she wanted to if nothing else. He wanted more but he could settle for that. He knew enough to know that a woman like that just didn’t come around all the time, and now that he’d found her, he wasn’t about to just let her go that easily.

“Jacob?” she called from the bedroom.

He looked up, surprised to see her standing in the doorway, naked and seemingly proud of her body. When she turned he could see the red lines on her shoulders and back. She wore them proudly, even putting her hair up in a tie to show them off.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave,” she told him over her shoulder.

Jacob smiled, easily recognising that tone and once again knowing where he stood with her. “Yes, Chef. Sorry, Chef,” he said, walking quickly to catch up with her. “Won’t happen again.”

Anne winked at him over her shoulder. “See that it doesn’t. Now, I suppose we should talk about the executive chef position at Ale. Now that we’ve covered a few other positions of course.”

Jacob laughed, catching her joke and sharing it with her. “I want it.”

“I’d figured as much,” she replied, nodding. “I’m going to take a shower. Join me and get cleaned off. Then we’ll discuss duties, your potential salary and I’ll take you to dinner there.”

“At Ale?” he asked, surprised.

Her smile faltered for a moment. “Of course at Ale. That restaurant is my baby, stocked with all my favourite foods and preparing my best dishes to my specifications. Your restaurant should always be your first choice of where you’d like to eat. If it isn’t then you need to change it so that it becomes so. Why? Is there something wrong with my beloved Ale?”

Jacob stared at her, the kinky kitten he’d had sex with turning into a full-blown defensive tiger at the drop of a word. And damn if he didn’t find it sexy as hell. He smiled and went to her, pulling her into his arms and fitting her neatly against his chest. She looked up at him, not appearing hurt or upset, simply curious. As if she were waiting for his explanation before deciding whether to rip out his spleen or bake him her famous chocolate mousse cake.

“I just thought,” he said, taking a breath. “That maybe you might not want to be seen as being improper with your new hire is all. People may start to talk.” He shrugged, unsure of how his idea would be taken.

She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently on the strands. “People will talk regardless. They always do. And what woman wouldn’t want to be seen with a handsome younger man on her arm? No, I think we’ll be seen a lot over the course of our professional relationship.”

He nodded, liking the sound of that. “And what of our personal one?” he asked before she could step out of his hold. “What about that relationship?”

She tilted her head to the side, appearing to consider his question. “What do you want to be? Sex toy, or something of a more permanent fixture in my bed?”

“Whatever you’ll give me,” he said, laying it out there for her. “You know we’re good together. You can’t deny that.”

Anne smiled. “We do have a certain chemistry going. Don’t we?”

“Yes,” Jacob replied, eager to confirm her thoughts. “We do. And I want to see where that goes. Don’t you?”

She stepped away and for a moment Jacob thought she might be rejecting him. Until she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the bathroom. “I believe I do. But first, we wash. I don’t discuss business when I’m naked. It’s bad form.”

Chuckling, he followed her into the bathroom and waited while she turned on the hot water in the shower. Like her bedroom and the rest of her apartment, this room was tidy, spotless and tastefully decorated. It seemed that most of the chefs he’d met had a need for order and control in common, though he’d certainly never asked if they were all into bondage like Anne was.

He checked the water temperature before she had a chance to, making sure it would be just right for them both.

“What are you thinking about?” She stepped into the water, the hot spray covering her shoulders and soaking her thick brown hair.

Jacob smiled as he followed her in. “How I want to be available for you whenever you’ve got a need.” He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her close, fitting them together, his hardening cock resting on her navel.

She gave him a wink and turned in his arms. While he figured she’d just be getting the bar of soap behind her, she slowly bent, making sure not to break contact between them as she lowered herself in front of him. He groaned and rubbed against her ass, sliding himself between her cheeks until she straightened up. She was a tease but he was starting to figure out that she’d deliver on her promises, and he intended to have her every way he could.

“Oh, you’ll be around,” she said, handing the bar of soap over to him.

“I know.” He smiled, quite happy about that.

Anne nodded. “As my new executive chef I’ll have weekly meetings with you to make sure things are still going well. You’ll give yourself over to me all morning, sometimes longer than that. These meetings might tend to run long some days. Think you can handle that?”

He laughed. “Hell yes. I’ll be whatever you need, Chef.”

Raising up on the tips of her toes, she gave his chin a little nip. “Good. I look forward to our next meeting. But for now I need you in a different regard.”

Jacob nodded, eager to do anything for the woman in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

She tilted her head back, letting the water fall over her face and chest. “Then wash me.”

Smiling, Jacob reached for her full breasts, eager to please her again. His cock hardened all over again as he soaped up her full breasts and felt their weight in his hands. He’d never been with someone as strong as she, was but he was quickly beginning to realise that something different than what he’d had in the past was exactly what he needed now. He’d come to Chef Anne for a chance at being her executive chef, and he’d found so much more. His heart raced with all the possibilities that their new relationship would entail.