Chapter 17

17

DEREK

M y forehead was buried into the middle of her back as we both panted softly. The insanity of the moment, the taboo nature of it all, it was too much. I took a few deep breaths before reality slowly started to set in. Her sweating, naked body was below me, bent over the prep table. I was still buried inside her, and the only one wearing any clothes was me, my chef’s pants and boxers pooled on the floor, only still worn on one leg.

What the hell did I just do?

I just had sex in my kitchen of all places. It was one of the most unsanitary things I could have done and happening right after cleaning meant I was going to have to scrub the place down again. That was beside the fact that I’d just accosted one of my employees. Every rule I had set out for myself, I broke in that one moment of blind passion. How could I be so unfathomably dumb?

Holy hell, I ruined my own afterglow.

I pulled back, sliding out of her while my thoughts went a million miles an hour. I realized her feet weren’t even touching the floor; she had to slide down to touch. I couldn’t believe I had been so bold. So disrespectful of my own space. If anyone else had sex in my kitchen, I would have murdered them with my own two hands.

“We’d better get dressed,” I said, pulling my pants up and realizing they were backward. I spun them around and stuck my foot through, getting caught in them and having to hop over to the counter to balance myself as I got them straight.

Jodi stood, turning around and looking for her clothes. I reached to help her, her pants down near my feet, but she got there first and bent over to grab them. I couldn’t help but stare at her naked body as she did, and I knew if I let my eyes wander for too long, I would be ready for round two in a matter of minutes. If it took that long.

I forced myself to look down at the ground, searching for my shirt and my chef’s jacket. The jacket was easy to find, the big white fabric with the red logo of the vineyard embroidered on it stuck out against the black floor. The black T-shirt on the other hand…

I walked around the prep table looking for it, refusing to look at Jodi as she dressed. It proved harder than I thought it would be. My eyes kept wanting to move over to her, especially when she found her shirt and bra and prepared to put them on. I stole one last glance at her gorgeous chest as she slipped the shirt over her head, not bothering to put on the bra, instead stuffing it into the bag she always had with her and was sitting on a stool by the expediting area.

Finding my shirt crumpled up on the other side of the kitchen meant she must have tossed it pretty hard, which made me grin in spite of myself. I pulled it on and turned around, finally dressed, and met her gaze. She was standing beside the prep table, and both of us slowly looked down onto it.

There was a very clear impression of her body, nipples in the center of the smooshed outline of her breasts, her hips hanging off the edge, and an outline where her face pressed down onto the table as well.

We both looked back up at each other and then after a single beat, burst into laughter. I leaned against the counter, my hand over my mouth as I laughed and she open-mouth giggled. Finally, after I got a little control of myself, I grabbed the spray bottle of cleaner and turned to her again.

“Alright, I’ll spray everything. You come behind me and wipe up with the paper towels. We can get it all again in the morning,” I said.

She nodded, reaching behind her for the paper towels. She followed behind me, both of us occasionally breaking into giggling fits as we sprayed and wiped the areas we had sullied with our naked bodies. When we finally had cleaned up everywhere we had been, she tossed the last of the paper towels, I took the trash bag out of the bin and tied it up, and we walked out, locking the door as we left. She walked with me to the dumpster as I tossed the bag in, and then we made our way to the car, big, goofy grins still on our faces.

The drive home was only a little awkward as neither of us knew what to say. Instead, I flipped on the radio, and we listened to the soft sound of a few classic songs on the drive back. When we got inside, I opened the door and let her in, and she immediately dipped into the office. Figuring that was the end of our night, I went to the kitchen, put new food in Gandalf’s bowl, and made my way to my own bathroom where I hit a shower.

I had a hard time not thinking about what happened in the kitchen as I washed the day away. Part of me wanted to go to bed smelling like her, just to make the moment last longer, but I figured that was dangerous. Even if this was the beginning of something, I didn’t want to fall too hard, too fast. If I was going to keep my cool, I needed to act like I had some in the first place.

I got out of the shower, toweled off, and put on some sweatpants and a new T-shirt. I made my way into the living room for the nightly television session Gandalf was used to having and got cranky if I didn’t rub his tummy during and heard the shower in the guest bathroom running as well.

When the shower turned off, I tried not to think about what she looked like, stepping out of the tub, water droplets cascading down her naked chest. It made my stomach tighten, but I had to try and focus on anything else. Thankfully, the show Ally had started was available on the streaming service I had up, and I picked up where it had left off at the end of the day a week ago.

The bathroom door opened, and Jodi stepped out. She was wearing the towel wrapped tightly around her, another one wrapping her hair. She looked surprised to see me but didn’t shy away either. Instead, she smiled and walked casually back to the office. It was a little awkward, but I hoped we could get past it. I wasn’t sure if it was a smart idea for us to do something like that again, but it certainly was fun. And thinking about it happening again was too.

I was surprised when the office door opened again a few minutes later and Jodi came out. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt with big thick socks. It wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world, but there was a certain cuteness about the outfit that still managed to make my cock twitch. It was the quintessential girlfriend look, right down to the ponytail her hair was pulled back in and the lack of makeup. Not that it mattered much. She was a knockout with or without eyeshadow and lipstick.

“Hey, I know this show,” she said as she came into the living room. “I’m an episode ahead of this one. It’s really good. Mind if I watch it with you?”

“No, not at all. So long as you don’t mind Fart Machine over here.” I motioned to where Gandalf lay at my feet.

She laughed. “Is that his official name?”

“Well, Gandalf is the official name,” I said. “Fart Machine is his alter ego.”

“Ooh, like a superhero?”

“More like a super villain. But yes,” I said. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m still standing, I can get it. Is there something you want?”

I felt a spur in my spine at the domesticity of her offering to get me something to drink in my own place. Suddenly, I could imagine her doing that on a daily basis or the roles being reversed. The two of us, completely comfortable with one another, doing the hundreds of tiny favors couples do for each other every day.

“Sure,” I said. “I have some lemon-lime soda in the fridge. If you grab that and some glasses, I have an icebox and whiskey over here in my cabinet.”

I motioned to the cabinet by the couch. It had been one of my favorite lazy additions. It served as a small table, as well as having a whiskey cabinet inside. There was also a built-in icebox, the cord running behind the couch to the wall, meaning I always had ice and whiskey nearby. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough room in the cabinet for glasses.

Jodi returned, two glasses in her hand and a two-liter of lemon-lime soda in the other.

“I’ve never had this with whiskey before,” she said. “It’s good?”

“Shockingly so,” I said. “Everyone else uses a dark cola, but I discovered this one night at a restaurant with Ally. We were staging at a place in New York. The head chef there gave all the cooks a drink at the end of the night, and he ran out of Coke. He had this stuff though, and we all had some and ended up liking it so much we put the two-liter out of commission and started in on the fountain.”

“Oh no. How drunk did you get?”

“We ended up sleeping in the booths at the restaurant,” I admitted. “It wasn’t my finest hour. But we got through the shift the next day and went home, and none of us puked. So, I called that a win.”

“I bet,” she said as I poured the drinks. I went a little lighter on the whiskey for hers, only because I didn’t want her to think I was trying to get her drunk. Then again, my alcohol tolerance was rather high, so my going light was probably still among the more spiked drinks she was used to having.

She took a sip, and her eyes opened wide.

“Wow, this is good.” She sat back on the couch and pulled her legs under her. We were sitting nearly shoulder to shoulder, and I had a very sudden feeling of what I imagined my brothers felt with their women. If this was what it was to fall in love, then I understood what the big fuss was. It was something so much more than any of the flings or short relationships I’d had in my life.

Not that I thought I was in love. Just that I liked having her around in my space. More than I had anyone else. By a long, wide margin. Whatever one would call that.

We sat back and watched the show, occasionally laughing or chatting until her eyes began to droop, and she put her nearly empty third glass down on the coffee table.

“If you will forgive me,” she said, “I think I need to get to bed.”

“Yeah, I should probably hit the sack too.” I turned off the TV. “You can leave the glass. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure,” I said. “Get on to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She smiled.

“Good night, Derek,” she said, standing.

“Good night, Jodi.” I refrained from saying anything else about the night. About the kitchen. About us.

Instead, I watched her walk down the hall, stumbling a little as the whiskey hit her and delighting in the little giggle that bubbled up as she righted herself and opened the door to the office that I had begun to think of simply as her room.