Authors: N.J. Young
Chapter Eight
Foster
was trying so hard to go slow, but Linzee made it impossible. Everything about
her was perfect. He took her mouth, and when he thrust his tongue forward, she
moved her hips against him, and his cock slid along the wet seam of her pussy.
“Now,
Foster,” she begged. “Please. Now.”
That
was all the encouragement he needed. He reached down to line himself up with
her opening, and her heat nearly overwhelmed him. Linzee cried out, her grip on
his shoulders tightening as he thrust forward and completely buried himself in
her warmth.
He
had to stop for a moment and take a few deep breaths to make sure he didn’t go
off. He was already so close, but he paused to let her adjust to his size. He
wanted this to be good for her. Hell, he wanted to feel her come around his
cock. And holy hell, she was tight. He hadn’t expected her to be this fucking
tight.
She
was on the edge of the counter, so her movements were limited, but she wrapped
her legs around him as he began to thrust, trying to set a slow rhythm. With
each deep stroke, she let out a little whimper, her hands roaming along his
back, their movement growing more frantic with every thrust. The feel of her
heels pressing into his lower back made him tremble with the need to throw
caution to the wind and pound into her.
Foster
sped up, needing her to come so he could let go. He slid his hand in between
them and his thumb found the hard nub of her clit. Her eyes widened for an
instant, and he sped up his thrusts, pumping into her as his thumb pressed down
firmly.
“Foster!”
she cried as her pussy clamped down on his cock. Her body went rigid and then
she shattered. Her arms clenched tight around his neck, and she buried her face
in his shoulder as her body shook and shuddered in his arms.
He
held her tightly, nestling his face in her hair as he gave one final thrust. Her
spasming pussy milked every last drop of his come.
Foster
held her tightly to him, enjoying the final quivers of her body. Vaguely, he
was aware he hadn’t worn a condom. Part of his mind knew he should be kicking
himself, but his body was reveling in the best sexual experience of his life.
He’d never felt like this before. Not ever.
He
was so caught up in Linzee that he didn’t hear the door, didn’t hear anyone
enter. He just heard Ethan’s angry voice. “Seriously? In my fucking kitchen?!”
Linzee
stiffened, shoving him away from her, and Foster backed up to see Ethan and
Tori standing in the doorway. Tori’s eyes went wide before she yanked at
Ethan’s arm. “Outside. Babe, we need to wait outside,” she said.
But
Ethan wasn’t listening. Linzee was frantically searching for her clothes,
yanking them back on as Ethan yelled. “Foster, I’m going to fucking kill you. I
fucking told you not to fuck my fucking chef. And not only do you
not
listen to me, but you fucked her in
my fucking kitchen!”
Foster
reached for his jeans, yanking them on as he looked at Linzee. Her face was
bright red with embarrassment, and he could see tears in her eyes. Fuck! He was
going to kill Ethan.
Tori
stepped forward and yanked on Ethan’s arm harder this time. “Ethan, we are
waiting outside!” This time his brother paid attention and followed her out the
door, grumbling. But it was too late. Linzee was practically sprinting out the
door.
“Linz!
Wait!” He tried to grab her arm to stop her, but she pulled away from him, a
tear spilling over.
“No,
Foster. Just … don’t.” And she turned and ran.
Chapter Nine
The
next morning, Linzee sucked down her third cup of coffee. After a sleepless
night of tossing and turning—and way too much thinking—she was pretty sure
there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to wake her up.
She
sat at the ledge counter at the Cup o’ Joe coffee house. The counter lined the
large bay window that faced Main Street. She told herself she wasn’t sitting
there because it faced F. Price Photography. She told herself she wasn’t hoping
for one glimpse of the god of a man who had been inside of her last night.
Warmth
flooded her at the thought. She’d tried to tell herself it was wrong and that
the whole thing was a mistake, but her body disagreed. Her nipples pebbled at
the thought of his mouth on her, and she could feel liquid pool at her center
as she thought about how amazing he’d felt. The only man she’d been with was
her husband, and in eighteen years of marriage, she’d never felt so wanton, so
consumed with need.
She
lifted a shaking hand to her coffee cup.
Pull
it together, Linzee.
The
thought of facing her boss was enough to sober her up. While she’d ignored fifteen
phone calls and texts from Foster, she hadn’t received one from Ethan. The
thought of facing Foster might be a moot point since Ethan could very well fire
her, and she might have to leave town anyway.
The
bell above the door jingled, and Marnie Peters walked in. Linzee had run into
Marnie around town, and the older woman was so engaging that Linzee had found
herself volunteering to help at the animal shelter Marnie owned.
“Linzee!”
Marnie came over and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so glad I ran into you. I just
got the most wonderful news. My daughter is moving back to town.”
Linzee
smiled, but she couldn’t help feel a small pang of jealousy. She’d give
anything if her own daughter lived closer. “That’s wonderful, Marnie.”
“You’re
just going to love her. She was friends with Becca in school. Those girls sure
knew how to have fun, let me tell you.”
Linzee
couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I have no doubt.”
Marnie
chatted for a few more minutes before she said, “Well, I’d better get. I’ll see
you Friday at Becca’s little soiree.”
Before
Linzee could answer that she might not be going, Marnie was already making her
way over to the front counter to place her order.
Turning
back to the window, Linzee took a sip of her coffee and watched a couple of
twenty-something women breeze through, deep in conversation. She wouldn’t have
given them a second glance until she heard Foster’s name.
“So
let me get this straight,” the young brunette was saying. “You made an
appointment for Foster Price to take a Christmas card picture of you with your
dog just so you could spend some time alone with him?”
Linzee
glanced at the blonde, who flipped her hair back as she giggled. Not only was
the blonde way younger than her, but Linzee would bet the girl still had a
warranty on the double-D breasts she sported on her tiny body. Why did men like
women who displayed two massive water balloons on their chests?
“I
know Foster is into me,” the blonde was saying. “He flirts with me all the
time.”
Her
friend rolled her eyes. “Foster Price flirts with everyone. Duh, Heather.”
The
woman named Heather planted perfectly manicured hands on her hips and glared at
her friend. “Not like this. I know what I’m talking about. Foster is into me.
He just needs a little push. So when I go in with Princess, I’m going to make
my move.”
“I
wouldn’t get your hopes up. I hear he has a thing for Ethan’s new chef. Some
gal from Chicago.”
Linzee’s
ears perked up, but the women paused their conversation as they placed their
order. When they sat at a table behind her, they picked up where they’d left
off.
“So
have you seen this woman?” Heather asked her friend. “The one Foster supposedly
likes?”
“Nope,
but I heard she’s pretty,” the brunette said.
Linzee
heard a harrumphing sound that she assumed came from Heather. “Well, I heard
she’s old. People can talk all they want, but it’s not like Foster would ever
choose some cougar when he could have this.”
Cougar.
She’d always hated that term. But that was what she was, wasn’t she? Since
she’d struck up a friendship with Rebecca Price, Linzee had learned a lot about
the Price clan, including their ages. Foster was thirty-two, eight years
younger than she was.
Linzee
had heard enough. The air seemed to close in on her as the women continued to
speculate about all of her faults.
Then
she heard Marnie’s voice and whipped her head around. The older woman was
standing at the two younger women’s table, holding her coffee as she gave them
a withering stare. “You sure do have a lot to learn, Heather. Even if your fake
nails and even faker boobs were Foster’s style, which they’re not, I can tell
you for certain that he doesn’t go for your particular type of mean girl.”
Heather’s
jaw dropped open in surprise that anyone would talk to her that way. Before she
could gather herself to respond, Marnie was already heading for the door. She
turned to offer Linzee a wink on the way out.
The
two women were staring at her then, and she was sure it wouldn’t take them long
to put two and two together. After standing up and gathering her purse, Linzee all
but ran out of the coffee shop and around the corner, gulping in breaths of
cool air as she tried to calm herself.
Why
was she getting upset? Despite Marnie’s defense of her, the younger women were
right, weren’t they? Why would Foster go for someone like her when he had hot young
women falling at his feet? The inkling of hope she had for any sort of
relationship with him faded. It was ridiculous for Linzee to stay in this
situation. She’d made a mistake, and she knew what she needed to do. It was
time to cut her losses.
Chapter Ten
When
Linzee’s outgoing message played again, Foster had to grit his teeth and
restrain himself from throwing his phone across the room. He’d tried calling
her countless times last night and this morning, and she still wasn’t
answering. He’d left what seemed like a hundred messages, so there really
wasn’t a point to leaving any more. She knew he was looking for her. Hell, at
this point, he’d be lucky if she didn’t have him arrested for stalking. The
thought that she didn’t want to talk to him cut him deeper than he cared to
admit.
Ethan
had refused to give him her exact address despite Foster’s attempts at bribing
and blackmailing his brother for the information. Ethan had just cited some
bullshit about privacy laws and said no.
Well,
he’d be damned if that stopped him. After checking his messages at the studio,
he locked the front door and headed in the direction of Price B&G. Linzee
was going to talk to him even if he had to corner her.
The
bell jingled as Foster entered Price. The door was open, so hopefully that
meant Linzee was there already. “Hello! Anyone here?”
Normally
he would have stopped to admire the way the place was coming along, but right
now he was laser-focused on one thing only. He’d just made it to the kitchen
door when it swung toward him.
Ethan
walked out looking grim, and was followed by Linzee. Her eyes were red, and
Foster could immediately tell she’d been crying.
“What
did you do?” Foster bit out the accusation at his brother. “Why is she so
upset?”
Ethan
hadn’t been thrilled with him for making love to Linzee in the kitchen of the
restaurant, but after giving Foster a thorough reaming, he’d said he was happy
that Foster had finally found someone. Ethan and Tori apparently thought they
made a perfect couple.
But
right now, it didn’t look like Linzee was lost in new romantic bliss. He turned
to look at the redhead, and didn’t like the way her gaze slid away from his.
Moving next to her, Foster lifted an arm to hug her close, but she shrugged him
off and stepped away. His face tightened and he glared at Ethan, waiting for an
explanation.
“Don’t
look at me like that. I tried to get her to stay, but she won’t. She says
she’ll only stay until I can find a replacement chef.”
The
blood felt like it completely drained from his body. No. He’d finally found the
woman he’d searched for. The woman he clicked with. And she was leaving?
“What
is he talking about?” he demanded, but Linzee remained silent, her hands
twisting in front of her. “Linz, answer me!”
She
jumped, and Foster realized how harsh he must have sounded. But dammit, he was
angry. She couldn’t just walk away.
She
cleared her throat, and squared her jaw as she looked up at him. Why the fuck
did she look like she needed to gather her courage to talk to him? She should
be able to say anything to him, dammit.
“Foster,
I’ve decided that Oakville isn’t a good fit for me after all. I think it’s best
that I go back to Chicago. Like I told Ethan, I’ll give him time to find a new
chef before I go, but I … I think this is the right decision.”
He
was stunned. He stared at her for a long moment and watched as her face
flushed, and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“Linzee,
you can’t do this. You can’t just walk away from this.”
Ethan
shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I think I’m
going to call to make sure our deliveries will be on time.”
Ethan
gave him a look that could only be described as pity before he went back into
the kitchen, and it made Foster’s blood boil. It was the same pitiful look he’d
received from his siblings when he’d lost the Donovan Award for the third year
in a row. He wasn’t good enough for that, and apparently, he wasn’t good enough
for Linzee either.
“Foster,
last night shouldn’t have happened.” Even though her words were soft, they held
a jagged edge. “It was a mistake.” She took a deep breath. “Not only would it
be awkward for me to keep working for your brother, but I’m not doing well
being away from my daughter. I think it would be best if I left.”
He
couldn’t blame her for wanting to be near Georgia, but dammit, he just wanted
to come first for once. It was selfish, but he didn’t care. He felt an ache in
his chest that made him realize just how much Linzee had gotten inside of him.
Letting her see that would just make things worse.
He
hardened his gaze. “Right. Well, I’m sorry a good fuck wasn’t enough to keep
you here.”
Linzee
gasped at his cruel words, and Foster hated himself for it.
“Tell
Ethan I have to go. Let me know if you need help packing.”
He
turned to leave, hoping she would come after him, that she would call his name
and tell him she was wrong. But she didn’t.