Chapter Three
It didn’t take long for Alaric to finally win Bella over, and Rebecca moved out of her friend’s house, and back into her own apartment. She also had to open her restaurant back up, and right now, she was standing in the center looking around the room at all the fancy laden tables. No one was in yet, so she was able to get some peace at the moment and look at what was hers.
Only, she felt empty. Rebecca’s, the name of her place, looked like everything her parents wanted for her. If she was going to be a chef, they wanted her to have the best, a place for them to show off to their clients. They had a daughter who cooked fancy food, and they were always driving her to get the accolades, but the truth was, she only ever wanted to be about good home food. As silly as it was, considering her rich parents, she wanted to be the kind of cook that was on the television. She wanted to inspire, and to create food that people wanted to eat, not visit once in a blue moon at a fancy restaurant.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asked.
She turned to see her barman entering the restaurant. “I’m fine. I’ve just accepted the new wine order.”
“You’re looking sad again. I’ve noticed that you rarely look at this place as a dream, and more of a weight that you must carry.” Oliver put his jacket on the chair next to him, and sat down.
“It’s nothing. Just looking at the fact we’re heading toward another year.”
“Another year of you hating what you do,” he said.
Oliver was the first man that she’d hired. Her parents had wanted her to use some kind of wine expert. She had put her foot down, and said she wanted a barman she could trust, who didn’t just know how to pour wine, but to make cocktails. Not that it mattered, Oliver’s skills were never really put to the test anyway.
“Do you like working here?” she asked, tucking some hair behind her ear, and stepping close.
He sighed, and slapped his hands down on his thighs. “It’s a job, and right now, it’s a job that I really need.”
“So no?”
“I like working for you. Believe it or not, Rebecca, you’re not a bad boss, not at all. I think what I find so sad is that I’ve never seen you enjoy what you do.”
She smiled, and then glanced at the keys to the restaurant. “I always wanted to cook. I loved being in the kitchen. My mom wasn’t much of a cook, but from the moment that I could walk anywhere I wanted, I was always in the kitchen. I’d watch our cook make cookies, all of this elaborate food, and she would even cook stuff my parents would never eat. Home cooked food, stews, cobblers, casserole, everything that makes your hips expand, but once you take that bite, you know you’ve come home, you know?”
“The kind of food you love cooking?”
“Yeah, the kind of food I love cooking.” She stared at the keys. “My dream was to have a real family place with home cooked food. I even imagined a little crèche for parents to bring their kids, you know? Then my dad saw the potential I had, and before I knew what had happened, there was this place.” She blew out a breath. “It was a gift, and I’ve had it for a couple of years now.”
“What is the first thought that comes into your head if this place was to burn down?” he asked.
“Good riddance,” she said, and her cheeks heated. “Sounds awful, right?”
“What I think, boss lady, is you need to think about what you want. Where do you hope to be in a few years? Do you want this place to still be your whole existence?”
She couldn’t help it. She sneered. Oliver chuckled. “I sound ungrateful, don’t I?”
Oliver shrugged. “I think that you need to do what you want to do. A lifetime is only short, but when you’re living it doing everything everyone else wanted you to do, it can be a very long time.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket. “I will go and check to make sure the suppliers didn’t mess up our order.”
Everyone would be coming in at any moment, and she really needed to get her kitchen set up.
Looking around again, there was no inspiration. The menu was already done, and the food ready to start prepping.
Just get your ass in the kitchen.
So that was what she did. She went into her kitchen, and she started doing all the work for the main courses, chopping vegetables that could be stored, checking the marinate of meat, making sure her area was prepared and ready.
She did the usual chitchat with her workers, and then it was on to work. Their doors opened at five in the evening, and they wouldn’t close until twelve. Her father had said it would make her more exclusive, and give seating an air of importance. To get a seat at Rebecca’s was near to flying to the moon. When he told her that, she had scoffed. The one benefit to being at work, at least she didn’t have to sit at home all day thinking about Jackson.
Christmas had come and gone, and she should have opened up a couple of weeks ago but she didn’t have the energy.
Of course her parents were pissed—until they discovered that she had gotten an illness, and then they were keeping a wide berth so they didn’t catch it.
Her parents were not bad people. They were just selfish, cold, and at times aloof.
Rebecca took the evening shift in her stride, never losing her cool when someone asked for less butter or no cream, or no flavor at all. She could do it all, and she did. When they asked to see her, she was the epitome of politeness, doing what needed to be done, allowing them to praise her food. As always, she praised her team, making sure they had the credit as well. It took more than one chef to run a restaurant.
Later that night, she was sitting at the bar after everything had been cleaned away. Oliver had left, and she was enjoying a nice glass of water to relax herself ready for the drive home.
“I never noticed how sad you look,” Jackson said.
She quickly spun around, and saw the man she had been trying to stop thinking about standing there in the restaurant. “Jackson.” She frowned. “The door wasn’t locked?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Licking her lips, she tried not to think about how good he looked.
“I heard about Alaric and Bella. They’re … dating. Whatever you said must have worked.”
“It wasn’t all that much to be honest.” He tilted his head to the side. “She loves him, and I do believe he loves her. His motives are pure.”
“That’s good. That’s always good.” She smiled. “I don’t know if I like him at the moment though. As self-appointed best friend, I think she could do better.”
“I don’t think I like the fact he’s the same age as me.” Jackson chuckled. “Kind of creepy. I’d have liked for her to have met someone her own age.”
“Oh well, you can’t help who you fall in love with, or who you’re attracted to.” She blew out a breath, and then sat back down, taking a long drink of her water. He simply stood, watching her. “Why are you here, Jackson?”
He chuckled. “You know, I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this. I’ve been driving around the city, wondering what the hell to do. I had a date tonight.”
Jealousy struck her.
“It’s not like that. It was a client date, if you will. A business dinner. The whole night, all I could think about was you. You’re my daughter’s friend. I’m not supposed to be thinking about you.”
She took in a breath. “Was I naked while you were thinking about me?”
The smile on his face turned her on. There was a bit of a smirk that got her heart racing. “Yeah, you were.”
Rebecca nodded. “Must have been a pretty good, erm, you know, daydream.”
Jackson didn’t say anything, and he simply stared at her.
Seconds passed, maybe even minutes.
“I’m tired, so I think it’s time that I … locked up and went home.” Aware of him watching her, she made her way around the counter, placing her glass in the small sink. She had her keys in one hand and her bag in the other. Jackson still hadn’t moved.
Stepping toward him, she tried to keep her distance.
“I’m happy for Bella.”
****
There hadn’t been a single woman that could have made Jackson forget about Rebecca. Ever since he fucked her on his desk, he’d done nothing but remember, and want. He had almost forgot what it was like to want something. For a long time, he’d been going through life, just doing stuff to build his company, help his kid, and wait for death.
The women, they’d been mild entertainment for him.
“I’m not here to talk about Bella,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her close. She didn’t release the keys, nor her bag.
“Jackson?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m older, I’m fucking wiser, and I should know what I’m doing.”
“You said this was a mistake.”
“That’s what every part of me is saying, but I want this, Rebecca. I want you. Since you’ve been gone, I have missed you, and not just the sex on the desk. I’ve missed being with you.”
She smiled. “We can’t do this.”
He stared into her eyes, and he saw the same need reflected in his own gaze.
“Did you think we were a mistake?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to feel guilty, Jackson. When I look at you, I don’t see my friend’s father. I see you. Can you look at me and say you see the same?”
“I see you, Rebecca. I use Bella as an excuse, but I see you.”
He watched as she licked her lips. Sinking his fingers into her hair, he held her close. Her lips looked so plump, so inviting, so tempting, and he couldn’t refuse. He didn’t want to deny himself.
Slamming his lips down on hers, he finally found what he’d been craving. It had been another taste of her. Pushing her back toward the nearest post, he heard her drop the keys and bag, sinking her fingers into his hair.
She wore a plain white shirt and a pair of black pants. They molded to her curves, and were driving him crazy.
Opening the buttons of her shirt, he kissed down from her lips, grazing the top of her tits. She wore a plain lacy bra, which aroused him even more. His cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, and he wanted inside her.
“Jackson?”
“Tell me to stop.”
“I don’t want you to. Please, I need you.” She removed one hand from his hair, to press against the hard ridge of his cock.
He growled at the touch. Forgetting about her shirt, he went to her pants, quickly removing them. Within seconds he had his own pants open, and was lifting her up. Aligning his cock to her center, he eased her down his length.
She was soaking wet, and as he filled her, her cunt squeezed him.
“Oh, fuck!” She dropped her head back.
“Get your tits out, baby. I want them. I want to suck on them.”
Rebecca finished with the buttons on her shirt, and eased her tits over the lacy cups. He pulled out of her pussy, and with only the head inside, he slammed back up inside her. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d gotten the chance to fuck her, and he missed her. He’d been dreaming about this pussy, and wanting to fuck her every chance he got.
“You like that, baby. You like feeling my dick inside you, fucking you.”
“Yes, God, yes. I love it when you talk dirty.”
He felt her response to him, and he relished it. There was no holding back with Rebecca. This was their second time together, and yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Their time apart had only made him want her more.
“Touch your clit. I want you to come all over my cock.”
She stroked her clit, and he looked down, watching as her fingers moved over the hard nub. He also saw his cock, glistening with cream as it pounded in and out of her body. He was a fucking goner in every sense. She gave him so much pleasure, and he missed her. Damn it, no woman was going to have this kind of control over him, and yet she did. He didn’t understand it, nor did he want to think about it.
All he wanted to do was to feel, to bask in this moment no matter how long it lasted.
“You like this, Rebecca? You like having me fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to give it to you hard.”
“Yes.” She screamed the last as she came, and she came with so much force, her cunt clamping down on him, pulsing as wave upon wave of cum washed over him. He was shocked by how quickly she found orgasm.
“Oh, fuck, that feels good, so fucking good,” he said.
Gripping her hips, he fucked her hard against the wall, pounding into her slick flesh. Much to his embarrassment, it didn’t take him long before he spilled his release inside her.
They were both panting, and it couldn’t have lasted longer than ten minutes.
Stroking her cheek, he waited for her to look up at him. When she did, she was biting her lip.
“Are you regretting this?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I did what I thought I was supposed to. I don’t want to hurt anyone, nor do I want to hurt you.”
She rested her cheek against his hand. “You won’t hurt me.”
“I don’t know what this is.”
There was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m not some delicate woman, Jackson. This doesn’t have to be anything.”
“I like you. I like being with you, and I—”
“Like fucking me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, that I love doing.”
She glanced down at where they were still joined. “We made a bit of a mess.”
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“Would you like to come to my place?”
“I’d love to.”
He eased out of her, and took a handkerchief out of his pocket. He knelt between her thighs, and cleaned away his cum as it spilled from her lips. “Are you protected?”
“Yes, I am. I’m also clean. Are you?”
“Yes, of course. I would never do anything to harm you. I’m protected, and there hasn’t been anyone else since you.”
“For me either.” She pulled up her pants and buttoned her shirt. “Are you following me?”
“Yes. My car is parked just out front.”
She nodded, and together they left her restaurant.
He watched her locking it up. It was strange. He had been to her restaurant many times for business meetings, and just to catch up with friends. He’d loved everything about it. Looking at it now, he noticed it didn’t quite match Rebecca’s personality. She came from wealthy parents, who would want this kind of dream. This didn’t seem Rebecca’s dream.
“Your parents must be proud.”
She snorted. “Yeah, they are. They’re constantly bringing people here, and telling them what a wonderful chef I am.” She shrugged. “That’s what parents do though, right? Brag?”
He saw there was no real fire or passion in her eyes. “This is not your dream though.”
“Correct. This is not my dream, but I will never look a gift horse in the mouth. This was what my parents offered me, and it seems being a female chef is a pretty tough industry to crack. Not that I ever wanted to be a chef.” Again, she shrugged. “It’s a job at least.”
He didn’t like that.
When they had been cooking together over Christmas, there had been real spirit in her. She loved everything to do with the kitchen, and yet, the one place where cooking should be her entire world, it wasn’t.
He filed that thought away, knowing he’d deal with it at some point. He saw her to her car, and waited until she was set up before going to his own. He would always make sure women were safe.
Climbing into his own car, he followed her toward her apartment. There was plenty of parking, and he noticed how tired she seemed as he parked up behind her.
“This is me,” she said.
It was a nice apartment building.
“Is this what your parents wanted?” he asked.
“No. This was my decision. They wanted me to be in some place that you had to have your eyes read by some kind of laser to get into. No thanks. I like my spot in the world.”
He followed her up to the fourth floor, and her apartment was the third on the right.
Her space wasn’t overly big, but it was nice.
“It’s a one bedroom apartment. I’ll show you around.” She closed the door. “This is the sitting room.”
There was a small sofa, a bookcase in one corner, and a television in the other. He noticed the television was small though.
“You don’t watch a lot of television?”
She shook her head. “Nope.” She moved into another room. “Kitchen, and there’s a small dining room. Off from the dining room is my bedroom and a bathroom.” She spun to face him. “This is it.”