Cockney: A Stepbrother Romance (25 page)

Chloe wraps her arms around my neck, holding onto me as I start to slide my cock in and out of her, fucking her hard and deep against the wine shelves. She’s making this incredibly sexy moaning sound, her breath coming in gasps as she rocks her hips to meet mine, like she’s urging me on. 

I wasn’t lying before - I’ve literally never done this like this; bare and without anything between us. Of course, in this moment, I couldn’t even remember a single detail of another woman even if I fucking tried because I am just losing myself in this girl. I’m in deep - and not just physically - but I know that this is more than just fucking. This is a
lot
more than just “clearing the sexual tension”, or “doing what we should’ve gotten out of our systems five years ago.”

It’s a
lot
more than that, and it only takes one look in her eyes to know she knows it too.

We’re moving faster and faster, our hips rocking together and the slickness of her impossibly perfect pussy milking me to the point where I know there’s no way I’m going to hang on here. I grab her hair and pull her head back, making her gasp as I nip at her collarbone. My hand grips her ass firmly, kneading the skin there while my other hand slides between us. I run my fingers over the stiff button of her clit, urging her on as I fuck her hard and deep.

I want to watch her come. I want to watch her fall right over that edge as I empty every drop of my cum inside of her.

Her moans get louder and louder, until she’s all but yelling as her body begins to clench up under me, “Oh
fuck,
Oh God! I’m coming! I’m coming! Oh
fuuuck!
” She yells, and I can’t hold back. 

I slide my lips to her ear, determined to push her over that edge as hard as I can, “I’m gonna come, Chloe. I’m going to come so deep inside of you,” I growl, biting her ear as I feel my vision start to black at the corners just as I start to lose control.

“Do it! Please do it! Fill me!” She cries out, and I then I’m roaring as I come, hearing her crying out and feeling her milking me for every drop. 

It’s like waking from the blank whiteness of a dream as I blink and slowly realize we’re panting, forehead to forehead, our eyes slowly focusing on the other. And then I’m kissing her as we slowly sink down to the floor, slumping against the wine crates in a pile of our clothes. 

“
Holy. Shit.
” She whispers, laughing as she drops her head to my chest and runs a finger over my skin.

“You fuckin’ said it, luv,” I grin, panting. I reach up and fumble inside the open lid of one of the crates above us and pull back with a bottle of wine in my hand. I grin, “Drink?”

Chloe laughs and then her eyes go wide at label, “Jesus, Oliver that’s like a $500 dollar bottle of wine.”

I snort. “Well, Barney’s paying for it, so we’ll do the pound conversion later and just enjoy, yeah?” I reach up for one of the spare cork-screws on the shelf, “Cheers, sweetheart.”

I snort out a laugh, almost spitting the insanely expensive and insanely delicious wine out through my nose as Oliver finishes the story about the time he walked in on Danny Cole screwing one of his waitresses
while
cooking a steak on the stove-top.

“The man is shameless, honestly,” he laughs, taking a big sip of wine and just
genuinely
smiling. “Oh,
God
, and the
shrieks
that one had when I barged into that kitchen! Like an ostrich or something!” He pantomimes wildly flapping bird wings and squawking sounds as I lose it all over again, devolving into another giggle fit. “Honestly, diced onion and crimini mushrooms
everywhere
,” he says, tossing his head back and laughing, 

It occurs to me right then and there that I’m quite simply having the time of my life. It also occurs to me that I have
no
idea how long we’ve been down here in the wine cellar.

I sit up with a start, “Wait, what time is it?”

Oliver freezes for a second, as if also
just
remembering that we’re actually at
work
, before he just grins and shrugs in that patent way of his. 

“No idea, luv.” He rummages around under us in the pile of our clothes and comes back out with his cellphone, “Oh, bugger.”

I laugh, giggling all over again. I’m sorry, but there is just no way to hear the word “bugger” without laughing, even if it
is
coming out of the perfect mouth of a
very
perfect looking and very
naked
man who happens to have just utterly and completely fucked your brains out.

I force myself to stop giggling, “Wait no seriously, what time is it?”

“Late.”

I roll my eyes, “Oliver-”

“I mean, late enough,” he turns the phone to face me, and my jaw drops at both the time and twenty-odd missed calls and messages from both Ian and Marco.

Oh, shit.

Oliver grins, “Hang on, sit tight for a second.” He jumps up and then takes the stairs up to the door. 

“Are you
crazy!
” I’m scrambling for my clothes when I hear him laugh and then slowly pad back down the stairs, “We’re off the hook.”

“What? What do you mean?”

He grins, “I mean the place is dark and locked up; apparently we weren’t missed.”

I shoot him a look, “Uh,
apparently
, we were,” I nod at his cellphone. 

“Oh, that?” Oliver make a brushing motion, “Not even a problem.” He picks up the phone, and I’m trying very hard not to blush as I realize what happens to be right at my eye level with him standing there naked like that.

“Poof, magic. We’re good.”

I raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Well, you see,
I
had to leave early on the very pressing business of getting absolutely roaring drunk with Danny Cole, and
you
had to go console your mum about some sort of emergency wedding planning stuff.” He sighs and shakes his head, “I mean,
I
thought it was fairly unprofessional of you to leave work early for something like that, but I guess we
are
going to be family and all.”

I wrinkle my nose and poke him in the chest as he laughs and scoots back down to sit against the crates next to me. “You
dick!
Now they both think I’m sort of ditzy nepotistic charity case.”

Oliver raises a brow and smirks at me, “You’d rather I tell them what you were
actually
doing?”

“Um,
no
, thank you,” I roll my eyes at him.

“So, here we are, with the whole restaurant to ourselves,” I gasp as I suddenly feel his hand on my bare thigh. “What
ever
shall we do?” He leans in and kisses my ear, and I can feel that now familiar buzzing shiver run down my spine as he whispers into my ear, “Chloe,” his breath is teasing and has me wet again in a second. 

“
I want
...” he husks into my ear, making my eyes flutter close and my breath catch in my throat when his hand slides tantalizingly close to the heat between my legs. 

“
I want…
” He trails off again, letting his fingers slowly walk their way even higher on my leg.

“
I want
…”

“
Yes,
” I whimper.

“I want to cook for you.”

There’s a beat, and I can feel my entire face go bright red before I slowly shake my head and open my eyes to see him grinning widely at me, “You’re a fucking
asshole
you know that?”

Oliver laughs, “I do know that.” He jumps to his feet again and then reaches down for my hand, “Hey, I’m serious though, come.”

He drags me up the stairs out of the cellar so fast that I barely have time to grab my chef’s coat, let alone anything else. Of course, I’d feel stranger about being
totally
naked in the middle of my place of
work
like some sort of bad dream if it wasn’t for the fact that Oliver didn’t grab a single piece of clothing. 

The dream factor turns decidedly more fun when it involves a panty-meltingly hot, tattooed man with an incredible cock who happens to be naked and about to cook for me.

I shriek as he lifts me up and puts me down on one of the stainless steel prep tables in the kitchen, “
Fuck!
It’s fucking
cold!
”

“Whoops, sorry,” he grins and hoists me back up over his shoulder, making me shriek and giggle as he slaps me on the ass. “That ought to warm you up, luv.”

I shriek again as he puts me back down onto the metal table, but this time, it’s the softness of a folded up white apron that greets my butt instead of the icy freeze of the tabletop. 

“Are you seriously going to cook right now?” I raise an eyebrow at him as he ties an apron around his naked, chiseled body. 

“Chloe,” he winks at me. “Sit, watch, be still. Let me do this.”

I do, and
damn
is he good. A typical shift in the kitchen doesn’t have Oliver
cooking
much; head chefs don’t actually do much cooking during the service itself, as odd as that sounds. They’re there more as a general, or a coach. So most times when I’m in the kitchen with him, he’s barking orders, or plating dishes, or expediting orders out to servers, or just generally making sure things don’t go sour.

But here, now, watching him is like watching ballet.

I’m literally speechless as I watch him move, and dice, and chop and sauté, and whisk. And we’re laughing, and having an absolutely insanely fun time together. And suddenly, this is the boy from before; the boy that stole my heart back when we were young and innocent and he was visiting like some sort of English pauper-prince. We’re drinking wine and laughing, and he’s feeding me morsels of stupidly good food. And then he pulls up two stools and we eat right there in the kitchen. 

“Holy
shit!
Oliver, this is fucking amazing.”

“I know.”

I snort again and roll my eyes, “No human is actually that arrogant, you know,” I say, sticking my tongue out. 

He grins, “Well maybe no human cooks as well as I do, yeah?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “You’ve caught me, Chloe. I’ve been a
robot
this entire time.”

“I’m pretty sure robots don’t fuck that well.” I almost can’t believe
I
said that, but I laugh as I see Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up and redness creep into his cheeks. “My
my!
Did I just make big bad tough guy Oliver Beckett blush like a little girl?”

I’m falling into another fit of giggles as his face goes even redder, before he coughs and reaches or the wine, “Need a bit more there, luv?” He says, dumping the last of the crazy expensive wine into the plastic to-go cups we’re drinking out of.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I say, pushing my empty plate away and turning to cock my head at him.

“Shoot.”

“Why do you stay here?” I can see him bristle and quickly put a hand on his shoulder, “You know what I mean.” 

Oliver shrugs

“Because of your mom?” 

His eyes quickly dart to mine.

“I talked with Danny the other day,” I say with a small shrug.

He glares at me for s second before his look softens and he nods. “Eh, possibly part of it.”

“And your dad?”