Recipe for Love Julia Talbot All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Julia Talbot
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Recipe for Love Julia Talbot All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Julia Talbot
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical
means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior
written permission from Changeling Press LLC.
ISBN (10) 1-59596-350-2
ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-350-5
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MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader
Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1561
Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Connie Alberts
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Recipe for Love The bell over the door to the Magic Muffin jangled, causing Megan to curse as the muffin pan she’d just pulled out of the oven burnt her fingers. Damn that Annie Frost for quitting on her to go off with that Army captain anyway. It was awfully tough having to do the baking and watch the front of the shop too. “Coming! Just a moment,” she called, plopping the muffins on the cooling rack and shaking her fingers. She untied the flour covered apron she wore too, heading out to the space behind the glass counters that kept all of her baked goods fresh. Muffins and croissants with chocolate fillings, fruit tarts and Napoleons all sat in gold and silver foil cups. Their colors and textures looked just perfect under the natural lighting she’d had installed. The smell didn’t hurt sales either. Fresh baked pastry always smelled like home to people. “Hi, may I help you?” she asked the man who stood on the other side of the counter, hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, his shoulders hunched a little as he peered into the displays. “I hope so,” he replied, smiling. Wow. That made him kinda hot. He wasn’t her type at all, with his hard masculine angles and brown hair, but that smile… well. She’d probably just been breathing too many blueberry crumb fumes if some random guy was making her stare. “Uh,” she fumbled a little, trying to get her eyes to do something else. Like maybe blink. “So, what are you looking for?” “I’m fixing to have a meeting in a few minutes and I need something doughnuty, but less bad for you.” “Oh.” Megan pondered that a minute. “What sort of meeting?”
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“Beg pardon?” he asked. His accent was decidedly southern, making the first word sound like at least two syllables. Megan just grinned. “What’s the purpose? Creative brainstorming? Training? Sales?” “Oh. Uh. Sales.” He gave her a look. “Why?” “Well, if it was for brainstorming, I’d suggest poppy seed muffins or scones. Seeds bring new life, after all, so those would make a great choice. For sales, though, I would go with the carrot cake muffins. Good and good for you.” His eyebrows went up. “What do carrots do?” “They have a very fertile quality, breeding what you want them to, bringing things to you. Very good for sales.” Megan laughed, breaking off a piece of a carrot cake muffin and handing it to him as a sample. “Besides, I make a fabulous cream cheese frosting. Light, not greasy.” His eyes (they were gray, a really light, clear color) widened as he tasted the dense, moist muffin. Then he licked his fingers. “I’ll take six,” he said, staring at her. Like really staring. “Cool.” Ducking her head to hide her suddenly hot cheeks, Megan boxed up the muffins, putting in a lemon poppy seed just because. You never knew when you might need a kernel of an idea. “That’ll be eighteen-fifty.” The man handed her a twenty. “You can keep the change,” he said, grinning suddenly, that whole face lighting up again. Damn, it was just stunning. “If you tell me your name.” “Megan,” she answered without thinking. “Megan Donnelly.” “I’m Jack. Jack Rabin. Nice to meet you, Megan. I hope your muffins really are magic. I need this meeting to go well.” She watched him as he turned and headed out the door, making the bell ring again. When she found herself nibbling on an anise and almond cupcake, she started laughing, feeling the effect anise had on her feminine energy right away.
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“You have no idea, Jack Rabin,” she said aloud. “No idea at all.”
*** Jack sat in his meeting, squirming, trying not to show how bad he was sweating. Well, not sweating. More… prickly. Heat zinged along his body, but especially in his balls, up his spine. He kept losing track of the conversation his salesmen threw around. All he could think about was Megan Donnelly, she of the best damned muffins he’d ever eaten, along with a smooth, short cap of brownish-blonde hair and huge green eyes. Like anime girl eyes. She’d been cute as a button, standing behind that display case that came right up to her breasts, emphasizing how high and tight they were. They weren’t big, just perfectly shaped. God, he’d just totally lost Tom’s question thinking about a girl’s boobs. “What’s that, buddy?” he asked. Tom slid a yellow legal pad across the table at him, practically bouncing. “I think we got some really good stuff, Jack. I think we’ve got a winner here.” The scribbled notes indicated that Tom might just be right. The sales plan the four men had come up with showed originality, which in computer software campaigns was a rare and wonderful thing. Jack nodded. “Excellent. Run with it, guys.” “Yeah?” Carl Hurley stood up, clapping Tom and Joe Frahley on the back. “Cool. “Thanks for the muffins, Jack. They really helped,” Carl said. “They did? I mean, they did!” They’d helped him get hot and bothered, for sure, but if they’d helped the other guys think, then they’d lived up to Megan Donnelly’s promise. “Y’all think we’ve got enough to go with, then it’s good enough for me. Mock ups on my desk by Wednesday?” “Sounds good,” Tom answered as the others nodded and rose, pulling on suit jackets and straightening ties. That and asking each other to lunch. Not him, though. Hazards of being the boss.
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That worked right well though, considering he wanted to go back to the Magic Muffin and see what Megan Donnelly did for lunch. Which was exactly what Jack did, walking down the block and a half separating his rented conference room and the shop with the bell over the door. “Hold on! Be right there,” he heard the voice in the back say. Her voice, just a little deep with a kinda fuzzy, husky edge. It was a fine voice. Something smelled amazing, sharp and green, really savory. Jack’s mouth watered a little, but it watered even more when Megan came out from the back, a smear of flour on her cheek. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Well, hey. Back again, huh?” She smiled at him, smoothing her hands down the front of her stained apron, which looked… well, it contrasted heavily with her pretty face and her curves. The fabric had the kind of coloring usually found in grass or shag carpeting. “You making something with spinach?” he asked, waving a hand at the violently green cloth. “Oh…” Her cheeks heated and she untied it, stuffing it under the cash register. “Asparagus soup. Avocado salad. Um, and a gnocchi with basil pesto and some fresh tomatoes and olive oil. The lunch special.” “It sounds very… green.” It did; it sounded good too. “Would you like to eat lunch with me?” “Me? Now? I have to keep the shop open. Lunch…” Those eyes just ate him up though, telling him yes, please, okay. Now. “You don’t have any help, do you?” Megan sighed. “I don’t. Annie quit, and I haven’t hired anyone new yet.” “All right, then. Let me buy your lunch special. All of it.” The offer seemed reckless but he wasn’t exactly poor, and he really wanted to spend time with her. Her eyes twinkled as she grinned at him, heading around the counter to go to the front door. When she got there she locked it, turning the “We’ll be back at” sign to two, which gave him two whole hours.
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Jack’s body perked right up. “Whatever you put in those muffins really did the trick,” he said, shifting from foot to foot. His collar felt itchy all of a sudden, his pants a little too tight. “Yeah?” She smelled like herbs and pepper as she moved past him again, her hair bouncing where it flipped in the back. He always had liked perky short hair on a woman. “Sure. The guys came up with great strategies,” he answered. The look that crossed her face made him twitch in all the good places, and she looked south like she knew exactly what was happening. “Really? What came up for you?” she asked, the rasp in her voice deepening. “Uh…” he stammered a little, his cock rock hard now. “Carrots are considered a symbol of male energy, you know,” she said, waving him back toward the kitchen. “Come sit, and I’ll get us lunch.” “A symbol? Like as in magical properties or something?” Yeah, that would go with the Magic in the Muffin that made up the name of her shop, he guessed. “Yes. Exactly.” Tucking an errant strand of bang out of the way, Megan dished him up a bowl of soup, putting a dab of what looked like cream on top. “I believe firmly in gourmancy.” “You mean you’re a gourmand?” That didn’t sound right, not the way she looked. Though right now he was looking at her ass in those faded old jeans. Lord bless him. “No,” she replied, those green eyes flashing over her shoulder, laughing at him. “Gourmancy. Food magick. Magick with a k on the end.” Jack sniffed deliberately, saying, “I don’t smell patchouli, and you’re not wearing crystals. I’m not sure I believe you.” “Oh, ha ha. Here, try the soup. Asparagus is prized for male potency, due to its phallic shape. It’s often used in male sex magick.” The bowl clunked as she set it on the counter.
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Well, he might oughta try it, then. Not that he really needed any more sex stuff. He ached. One sip from his spoon had him moaning happily at the slightly bitter but clean taste, accented beautifully by the cream. “That’s great,” he said, licking his lips. “What are the female energy thingies?” “Figs,” she answered, her eyes half closing. “Nutmeg. Vanilla. Then of course, there’s the general stimulants. I indulged a little this morning.” Her lashes fluttered, and Jack could see her pulse beating in her throat. “Really?” He set the soup aside, his feet moving him right to her, his hands gaining a mind of their own and reaching for her. “So between my carrots and your…” “My anise and almonds,” she finished, nodding. “We have a situation.”
*** God, what was she doing? They had a situation, all right. Jack’s hands rested on her hips; her hands came up to settle on his chest, which was broader than she’d thought. Warm too, even through his clothes. She wanted him bad, like she hadn’t wanted anything or anyone in a long time. It was just totally unlike her. Her own concoctions never worked on her. How many times had she wished they had? This time the magick must be working because when Jack “the total stranger” bent and kissed her, Megan moaned and kissed him right back. Her hands slipped up to curl around his neck and hold him close. She was already wet, had been since he walked in, and as they rubbed together, her nipples hardened, pushing against his chest. The sound of his moan came hard and masculine, making her groan right back, opening her mouth so he could take the kiss deeper, his tongue pushing in and out of her mouth, simulating having sex. His thigh pushed between hers, giving her something to ride, and Megan took advantage of it, straddling him and rubbing. The seam of her jeans pressed up against
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her, rubbing her clit. Little shocks ran up her spine to explode in her brain, making Megan gasp, making her clutch at Jack’s neck, her nails digging in. The kiss broke and he pulled back to look at her, those clear gray eyes gone almost black. His eyes were hot as they looked at her. “Damn, darlin’,” he said, his breath hot on her cheek. “Damn.” “You’re not my type,” she said, licking her lips and tasting him on them. His hair felt good under her hand as she raised one to stroke the back of his head, learning his textures. “No? What is?” he asked, even though he didn’t seem to really want to know from the way he nibbled his way down her neck. Megan shivered. “Blond. I like blonds. I like lean, sort of girly guys, too.” He was so not girly. His shoulders and chest would block the light if they got in bed together, and his face was all angles. Somehow she didn’t mind. Megan pressed her lips to his cheek as he kissed her shoulder. Rough whiskers prickled against her lips, fascinating her. Just to feel the difference, she pushed his head to one side to get to the bottom of his throat, biting a little. He laughed, the sound low and deep. “Greedy,” he said, his voice going as rough as his cheeks. “Yes. More.” Like a glutton who could eat fifty muffins at one sitting, Megan wanted more. Jack gave it to her, kissing her mouth hard as he started working on her clothes, pushing her back against the stainless steel counter so he could pull off her t-shirt and wrestle with the clasp of her bra. This was where she got more than a little self-conscious, even with the reinforcement of the magick muffins and the asparagus soup, because heaven knew, she wasn’t playmate material. Jack didn’t seem to mind though, the way he covered one of her breasts with his big hand, the nipple fitting perfectly against his palm. He hummed for her, the sound appreciative, hot. “Pretty lady.”
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“Yeah?” she asked, smiling up at him, unable to stop the grin that almost hurt her cheeks. “Hell, yes. Perfectly shaped. Do you taste as good as your pastry?” he added, bending her back, his lips closing over her nipple so he could suck strongly, just grazing her with his teeth. She cried out, clutching him for balance, her legs rising to wrap around his thighs. Oh, that almost hurt, it felt so good. She was so sensitive there. When he moved to the other breast, his rough cheek scraping her tender skin, she moaned, her hips humping up, totally out of her control. “Let’s get rid of these too,” Jack said, pulling at her jeans. He had dimples, deep ones that creased his cheeks when he smiled. They were damned hot. Jack stepped back and unzipped her jeans, sliding them down her legs. All she had left was her underwear, a tiny scrap of lace and elastic. When he would have stepped back between her thighs, she held up a hand, saying, “No, now you. I’m feeling a little, uh…” “Naked?” Obligingly, he undid the knotted tie and took off his jacket, unbuttoning his dress shirt. “Yes,” she agreed, staring a little. Okay, a lot. He had a glorious upper body, wide and firm, his belly ridged with muscle. Megan figured she was going to have to rethink the smooth, boyish chest thing. She sat up, reaching for his fly, feeling a heavy bulge underneath as he pressed against her hand. “Feels good, darlin’,” he said, practically growling for her. “Then this will feel better,” she replied, sliding off the table and hitting her knees on the floor. Good thing she kept a spotless kitchen. She dug into his zipper and that silly flat front hook and eye thing, getting his cock out into her hand. Oh, God, he was hot, long and firm, already wet at the tip. Her own wetness might have embarrassed her if she wasn’t so hot for him, so eager, putting her mouth to the head of his cock, her tongue coming out to taste him.
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“Oh, fuck.” His hands ruffled her short hair, stroked her cheeks, her throat. “Good doesn’t… unh.” He trailed off as she engulfed his cock with her mouth, her lips sliding down as far as she could go. Her tongue pushed along the underside, feeling his pulse in the big vein there. His taste came to her, salty and bitter and hot, and she wished she could bottle that, sell it as an aphrodisiac. His flavor made her throb. It made her moan around him and press her thighs together. Jack’s shirt fluttered to the floor next to her as she sucked, almost distracting her, but not quite. Megan was just too intent on his taste, her eyes closing as she let her throat relax, taking him all the way in until her nose hit his lower belly, just above his cock. “No.” Suddenly Jack pushed her away, his cock slipping from her mouth, making her blink, her lips swollen and throbbing. “What… what’s wrong?” she asked, feeling disoriented, needing his solid, earthy scent and feel to anchor her. “Nothing, except I want to taste you too, darlin’. Before you make me come.” Gently, Jack lifted her to sit on the counter again, skimming her tiny panties down her legs, opening her thighs so he could see… everything. Megan flushed from her face all the way down to her belly, struggling not to hide herself with her hands. “Yeah. That’s… oh, Megan.” Jack bent to kiss her belly, her thighs, his hands moving on her, making goose bumps rise on her skin. He stroked her inner thighs, making her shiver, pressing her open even more without her noticing it until his fingers slipped up between her legs, pressing against her clit, rubbing it in a circular motion before his fingers slid down to open her, moving right inside her cunt. She was so wet that he just eased right in with no resistance. “Oh…” She clutched at the counter, hands scrabbling for purchase on the cold, slick steel.
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“Hell, yes,” Jack agreed, pulling his fingers free. He touched her breasts again, leaving wet trails of her own juices on her nipples before leaning in to lick it off. Squirming, Megan pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him to move, to take that magical mouth lower. Never in her life could she remember being so demanding or wanting something so badly. He finally gave in, his chuckle warm and damp on the curls between her thighs, his tongue pushing between the lips of her cunt so he could taste her. “Oh, God,” she moaned, her head clunking back against the counter as she arched up. He was going to drive her crazy, licking at her, holding her open so his lips could close on her clit, then moving back down to push his tongue inside her, just like his tongue had moved in her mouth when he’d kissed her. The wet, soft noises he made might have made her cringe if she’d had any shame left. She didn’t though. Why had she ever thought he wasn’t her type? Just the sight of his dark head between her legs made her want to scream. Megan stuffed the edge of her hand in her mouth to keep from yelling. Old Mrs. Abrahams who owned the knitting store next door would so not approve. Jack looked up at her, his chin resting on her belly. “I want you, Megan. Please?” “I… okay. Yes.” This was probably really stupid and risky but yes. She wanted him too. “Yes. Please.” “Oh, thank God, darlin’,” he said, standing up between her legs again, moving close, his cock pushing at her folds. His eyes practically glowed for her, so dark that the pupils had nearly disappeared into the deep gray irises. The change from the crystal clear light gray earlier fascinated her. Megan moved herself up on his cock, pushing it into her cunt. She watched his eyes widen, watched his throat work as his hips started to roll, his cock sliding into her over and over, his muscles standing out on his chest and belly, his thighs rock hard. They rocked together. Jack practically doubled over to kiss her as he pushed her knees almost back to her chest. Thank goodness for all that yoga. She could taste herself
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on his mouth, and would bet anything he could do the same with her, her tongue still tingling from the flavor of his pre-come. In and out he thrust, her wetness and his heat making them both pant and groan, making the very air in the kitchen seem thick and steamy. His eyes met hers as he reached between them to touch her, his thumb finding her clit. Megan let herself go, her inner muscles clamping down on Jack as she came hard, her entire body shaking and shuddering. Jack came only moments behind her, his cock jerking inside her, filling her with his wet heat. A loud pop had her jumping, had Jack cursing as every pot on the stove exploded, the lids flying off, and soup and pasta with pesto flying everywhere. Wow. Jack just kind of… stood there, staring at her. “What the hell was that?” he asked, his eyes not leaving hers. They were back to that light, clear color now, and Megan could swear she saw something like fear creep into them. “That,” she replied, “was magick. Sex magick, they call it. One of the purest energies on earth.” “Uh huh,” he said. He was already pulling away from her, she could tell. It wasn’t long before his physical action matched his mental ones, and he stepped back, slipping out of her. Megan struggled up, grabbing an apron to cover up with as he dressed. “Let me give you lunch to go?” she asked. “No. No, I…” Jack wouldn’t meet her eyes as he did up his tie, looking at anything but her. “Thanks, though.” “No problem,” she replied as he hurried out. She was oddly glad he didn’t offer to pay like he’d said he would. That would have really made her feel less than magical for sure.
*** Jack stared at the sign in the window of the Magic Muffin. He couldn’t believe he was back, especially after making such an ass out of himself before, just walking off
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without a “Good-bye” or “Hey, that was fun.” Not only was it rude, it might just be lifethreatening. They hadn’t used a condom. He’d been trying to convince himself he was just there because he was craving a muffin. It wasn’t working. He was there for Megan, plain and simple. The bell over the door jingled as he went in, grabbing the Help Wanted sign out of the window. “Just a minute,” he heard from the back, and between that husky voice and the smells of bread and fruit and chocolate, his heart was just pounding, knocking against his ribs. Megan came out, brushing flour off her face. She stopped dead when she saw him, her eyes going from summer green to deep, stormy sea. Before she could open her mouth to let him have it, Jack held up the Help Wanted sign. “Do you still need someone?” he asked, taking in every feature with his eyes, from her short hair to the curve of her small breasts under her t-shirt. “Why?” she countered, a slow smile starting to dawn. “You looking for work?” Jack smiled back, feeling the electric current he’d felt with her before go through him. “No,” he replied. “I just thought I’d see if you could teach me how to make a little magick.”
The End
Julia Talbot Julia Talbot resides in the Southwest of the United States with her dog and several houseplants, and has not quit her day job. She has a penchant for blank books, gay porn, and big, ugly hats. She can most often be found in coffee shops and restaurants, scribbling in her notebook and entertaining other diners with her mutterings. Visit Julia’s website at http://thegates.net/juliatalbot to see her current stories, upcoming projects and visit her blog.