"Do you do much grilling at home, Cadence?"
I turn to look at Percy. "I do actually. I have a built-in indoor grill in my kitchen so I'm able to take advantage of it whenever the mood strikes, but if I'm being honest, having this grilled octopus dish at Nova is my first choice."
Pamela giggles behind me. I doubt that has anything to do with what I just said and everything to do with the fact that Tyler is whispering something to her.
"If someone wanted to come down to Nova to enjoy this, would they even be able get a reservation at this point?" Percy asks with a chuckle. "I tried booking a table for my wife and I but we were out of luck."
"I'll arrange a special dinner for the two of you." Tyler slaps Percy on the back. "By popular demand we've added the grilled octopus to our lunch menu, and we do have limited reservations available for next week. If any viewers want to come down and try it, today would be the day to book a table."
I keep focused on what I'm doing, answering each of the questions Percy asks me and when I finish the dish, I let him push a forkful of grilled octopus into my mouth that was prepared hours ago for the sole purpose of being used as an example of the finished dish.
When Pamela finally tosses to a commercial break I catch my breath. That was Round Two. This morning right before we went on, we were invited back next week for Round Three. If Pamela can keep her hands to herself, we may just pull this off.
***
"It shouldn't feel this good, Chef."
"Why the fuck not?" He growls as he wraps my ponytail in his fist and pulls back. "You like when I fuck you. That's not a secret, Cadence."
I moan as I grip tightly to the edge of the desk, the discarded condom package in full view. "We shouldn't be doing this here. People will hear us."
"What people?" He drives his cock into me, the rhythm steady. "We're the only two people here."
I don't know if that's true. All I know is that as soon as we left the television studio, he told me he'd fuck me after work. I laughed, daring him to do it in the restaurant. With a glint in his eye and a squeeze of my ass, he told me he accepted the challenge and he'd have me before I went home.
I worked my entire shift feeling his gaze on me. Whenever I looked over at him, he winked at me. I giggled to myself, confident in the knowledge that he was enjoying this as much as I am. It's flirty, it's fun, and the sex is wickedly good.
"I thought about this when you came back here that first day." He circles his hips, his dick straining inside of me. "The first day you came back to my office, I wanted to fuck you like this then."
"You should have," I bite back as I tighten my grip on the wooden desk.
"I pictured it just like this." He slows, his hand circling my ass cheek. "You bent forward in your uniform with your pants down around your knees and your jacket hiked up so I can see your smooth little cunt."
I inch back on my feet, the words driving my need. "You thought about that?"
"About this?" he breathes. "About opening my pants like this, pulling out my dick and taking you?"
That's exactly how we look right now. We're both still dressed from dinner service, the only parts of our bodies exposed are connected now, deeply connected.
I push back into him, feeling the edge of my orgasm approaching. I reach down to touch my clit. It's swollen, hard, aching.
"You need it right now, don't you?" he hisses the words into the air. "You need to come."
"Yes," I cry out, not caring at this point who hears me. "I have to come."
He grabs my hair tighter, squeezes my ass and bucks his hips, sending me into the middle of an orgasm before he pumps out his own.
CHAPTER 15
"What happens if it doesn't last?" Sophia picks up the iron to run it over a piece of fabric. "How are you going to work together?"
I've thought about that. It's one of the first things that popped into my mind after Tyler left my bedroom that first night. I know the chances of the two of us staying together are slim. We work in a stressful environment, we live in Manhattan. Temptation is everywhere. I'm the center of Tyler's attention right now but that may change. If it does, it's going to make working together awkward.
"I can handle it, Soph," I say assuredly. "I'm smart enough to know how to separate business from pleasure."
"I don't believe anyone who says they can do that."
"Why not?"
"Emotions don't disappear between nine and five." She sits back down in the chair next to her sewing machine. "In your case, noon until midnight, or whenever you work, I can't keep track."
I laugh. My schedule changes week-to-week but for the most part, I'm at the restaurant for at least nine or ten hours a day. I go in early sometimes because I know at some point that it's bound to be rewarded. Not in sexual favors but in opportunity.