That's Amore! - Janelle Denison [36]
"We're not a restaurant," her father had said. "This place has run just fine for twenty-five years without the fancy things you want to do. What do you think puts the food on the table? Keeps a roof over our heads?"
Efi had offered him a huge eye roll but she hadn't given up on the idea. In fact, she fully intended to launch another attack as soon as she and Nick returned from their honeymoon.
The old, rusty cowbell on the front door clanged announcing a customer. Efi wiped her hands on a towel and went out to greet the arrival.
She'd no sooner opened the swinging door than she found herself in Nick's arms.
"Good, I was hoping I'd get you alone," he said with a wicked grin.
Efi's mood soared as he backed her into the kitchen, the door swinging closed behind them. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at work?"
"It's lunchtime." He glanced at his watch over her shoulder even as he worked at undoing her apron strings. "I only have fifteen minutes. Hurry. If we're quick, we might even be able to squeeze in some foreplay."
Efi laughed as they nearly upset a tray where loaves of tsoureki, sweet bread, cooled. Then they shuffled toward the preparation table where she pushed the tray of baklava aside so Nick could lift her on top of the cool marble. Good thing she was wearing white jeans where the flour wouldn't show too much. Not that it mattered. Nick was determined to rid her of clothes, period, starting with her jeans.
"Mmm." She reveled in the feel of his mouth against hers. His kiss was sweeter and hotter than anything the shop had to offer, with or without chocolate.
He tugged his mouth away and she made a sound of protest, until she felt his lips against her bared right nipple. She bunched her fingers into his thick, dark hair, enjoying the myriad sensations flicking over her skin in concert with the flicks of his tongue.
Their position reminded her of their first time together. She'd been seventeen and he'd stopped by the shop to pick up a torte for his mother for a party she was throwing on his father's name day. Or at least that had been the story. From what she knew, Nick Constantinos never ran chores for his mother. It wasn't the Greek way. Greek men, it was well known, were coddled by their families until they married, and then the job was turned over to their new brides. She knew many Greek men who didn't know how to boil water, much less iron their own shirts.
Her father had gone to the bank for some financial matters and she'd been in the shop alone. And Nick made no secret that this was the moment he'd been waiting for. The time when he might sample some of the shop's offerings … directly from her skin.
She'd been wholly unprepared for the desire, the longing he'd introduced her to. The feel of his tongue against her belly as he lapped cream from her skin. The liquid that had pooled between her legs that he'd tsked about then set about cleaning up with his mouth.
It had been Efi's first sexual encounter. And it wasn't something she was soon to forget.
And it seemed Nick was determined to make sure she didn't forget this time, either, as he stoked the sparks charging through her veins into a full-out fire.
His fingers were more skilled than they'd been back then. He knew just how to touch her, where to apply pressure, where to pluck and pinch and stroke, making each time her first time.
She fumbled for the catch to his pants, needing to feel the growing length of him, evidence of his want for her. So hot … so hard…
"Condom … back pocket," he ground out, his breath teasing the sensitive skin of her neck.
She took it out and put a corner of the foil packet between her teeth … just as the cowbell on the door outside rang again.
"Efi! Come on out front. I