Chapter 38

MILA

When Felix bent me over the counter, I thought I was going to combust.

Our lovemaking had always been on another level, but something about having him inside me while in a kitchen, the place I loved most, felt forbidden and sexy in a way I had not been anticipating. Even if my restaurant failed within a day of opening, all the work had been worth it for this exact moment.

Felix wove one hand into my hair, yanking it back. The other gently clasped my throat, the necklace I never knew I needed. I knew I was close from the way my heart was hammering, the way my skin felt tight and hot over my bones.

With each thrust, Felix claimed me as his own. It would be a freaking miracle if I was able to walk the next day, let alone clean. I could tell I was veering towards the edge.

I’d been a sweaty mess in the kitchen before, but this was something new entirely.

It had certainly not been my intention to have sex in my newly cleaned kitchen, but something about the idea of Felix caring so much about me that he could sense my troubles made me extra sensitive.

It helped that he was so handsome.

Felix was, well… unlike any man I had ever met. If I was a master in the kitchen, he was certainly a master in the bedroom.

I came undone quickly, crying out as I rode the waves of my pleasure. Felix collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving.

We laid there in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily, before Felix finally rolled off me. My knees buckled under my own weight, having lost his support holding me up. I felt empty without him, and not just in a literal sense.

We both stared at each other for a moment. My hair had fallen loose from its bun, tumbling over my shoulders. Felix played with a strand while I attempted to straighten my dress.

“I like this dress,” he said finally.

I laughed and looked at him. “I asked Mrs. Raven to pick something out for me.”

“Did she know I was going to take it off you?” he asked. I chuckled.

“I’m sure she suspected,” I said.

“Well, she did a great job. You look beautiful,” he said, putting his hands on my ass and tugging me to him. I felt another rush of heat run through me at his words. Or maybe that was his hand placement.

“We should clean up,” I finally managed to say. “The staff did such a good job today, I would hate to mess it all up in one night.”

“You’re quite the professional,” Felix said.

“As professional as one can be after having sex in their workplace,” I said lightly. Felix smirked and tugged me closer.

“Anything you say, chef,” he purred. I let go of him, reluctantly.

Felix pressed a kiss to my throat before helping me wipe down the countertop.

“I’ll bring in the stuff from dinner,” he said, disappearing into the dining area to collect the dishes.

I allowed myself a moment to process what had just happened. Everything with Felix–not just the physical intimacy–felt more intense. I knew I had never really been in a real relationship before, but this felt different from even what my friends described. It was as if mine and Felix’s souls were somehow connected, as silly as it sounded.

The kitchen itself was a fairly easy clean. I looked around the space, admiring it. I really was so lucky to call it my own.

Felix carried in our picnic supplies, and I had never found anyone more attractive than him when he went back for seconds of my cooking.

Felix and I got to work handwashing the dishes from dinner. As we worked, I quizzed him on the dishes I prepared. I wanted to know his likes, his dislikes, any and all feedback for my food.

Felix loved everything, which was very sweet, if unhelpful.

“Please,” I begged him. “Just tell me something I can improve on. I want this menu to be the best it could possibly be.”

Felix sighed and turned to face me.

“Fine,” he said. “My only piece of criticism–constructive criticism, mind you–is that I think you need a signature cocktail. Really pull it all together.”

I clapped a hand to my forehead.

“Of course! A signature cocktail! I knew I was missing something!” I exclaimed, running over to my notebook to jot it down.

My head started spinning with ideas. There were so many things I could tackle… a frozen margarita… a flavored gin and tonic… something with coconut rum, my favorite…

“You’re disappearing again,” Felix teased. He was wiping down the plates.

I looked at him curiously. “What?”

“When you think about cooking or food or something, you get this faraway look on your face,” Felix explained. “It’s very cute. It’s like you’re in a whole other world.”

I tilted my head. “You do the same thing, you know.”

Felix looked at me, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“You get this distant expression sometimes,” I said. “It feels like there are places in your mind that I haven’t quite unlocked yet.”

Felix nodded, considering my words.

“I think,” he said carefully, “that I’ve never been in a relationship that makes me feel like I can share every part of myself.”

One corner of my mouth turned up. “Really?”

“I’m not lying when I say that you’re special, Mila,” he continued. “I really do mean it.”

I blushed and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him close.

“You’re really special to me, too, Felix,” I told him. “And I’m sorry if that’s not something I say all the time, but I want you to know that it is true.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Mila.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “You’re amazing.”

I stepped away from him, looking into his eyes. Our conversation felt even more vulnerable and exposing than the sex.

I plunged my hands into the sink, reaching for the plates, when something sharp slid across my skin, cutting me.

I cried out in pain as I looked down at my hand. One of the steak knives had sliced me, leaving a thin line of red blood in its wake.

Next to me, Felix let out a grunt of pain. I looked over to see that he had an identical cut in an identical location–his right hand, stretching from his thumb across his palm.

It was curious, considering he wasn’t near any sharp objects. He was just drying dishes. And to have a fresh cut in the same spot? At the same time as mine? It felt… weird. The latest in a line of odd behavior and coincidences. I didn’t allow myself to think the word suspicious.

Before I could ask him about it, he spotted my cut.

“Mila, are you alright?” His voice was full of concern. I nodded, mutely, as he scrambled around the kitchen, hurrying to wrap my injured hand in one of the cloth napkins.

“Careful!” Felix warned me. “You have to pay attention or you could get hurt!”

I swallowed my questions and allowed him to take care of me. He bandaged up the injury and kissed it, smiling up at me.

Somewhere, in a deep part of my brain, a quiet little doubt began to form.