will you take the night shift?

Cassandra noticed you staring and chuckled. “That’s Grant Reilly. He’s the head chef and co-owner.” 

“He’s…” you couldn’t even find words to describe him as you stared at him. Your eyes gazed at his salt and pepper curls, the white t-shirt that strained against his muscles, his veiny arms, his thick fingers, and his hazel eyes. Fuck, he was hands down one of the hottest men you’d ever seen.  

“Yeah, he has that effect on people but just a warning, he’s very professional. Dozens of servers, customers, and line cooks have tried and failed to get with him. That man does not fuck staff. It’s a shame because- well you have eyes,” Cassandra explained. 

“That is a shame,” you sighed, greedily taking in every inch of him with your eyes. 

“Chef, do you have a second?” Cassandra called out. 

Grant turned his head to look at Cassandra and he did a double take when he noticed you standing beside her. 

Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t the first time Grant saw you. He had walked past Marcus’s office during your interview. All it took was one look at you and he was hooked. Grant spent the rest of that day thinking of you, your smile, the way you nervously twiddled your thumbs, and your perfect face. He spent that night convincing Marcus to hire you, even with your lack of experience in the food industry. Now that you were here, standing in front of him, he regretted it immediately. There was no way he would be able to focus with you in his restaurant. You were just his type with your pretty smile, innocent doe-eyed look, and your body was downright sinful. His mind immediately wandered off to a dark and dirty place, thinking of all the things he’d want to do to you. 

“Sure,” he nodded in a slightly strained voice. As he walked over to you, he let out a deep breath, trying to push away all the lustful thoughts that entered his mind at the sight of you. In all the years he spent building up North & Vine into a renowned restaurant, he had always remained professional with his staff. He was resolved not to let you be his exception. 

“Grant, meet our newest team member.” 

“So this is the backwaiter with no experience that Marcus hired without consulting me,” he lied, staring at you with a raised eyebrow. His tone came off harsher than he intended but he made a conscious effort not to sound nicer. He figured being a little stern with you would be better; establishing some distance would help keep you at bay. 

You felt heat spread across your cheeks and you faltered slightly under his intense gaze. “That’s me,” you smiled awkwardly. There was a clear hint of annoyance in his voice and you suddenly felt unwelcome. 

“She’s a fast learner,” Cassandra spoke up, winking at you. 

You gave her a grateful smile and nodded at Grant. “I’m so thankful for the opportunity to work here. I’ll try my best not to let you down.” 

Fuck. 

Not only were you gorgeous, you were sweet too. That would make things all the more difficult for Grant. He nodded, only glancing at you before turning to Cassandra, “Do you think she can handle dinner service? She doesn’t have any experience.”

Cassandra gave him a confused look. It wasn’t like Grant to be so cold. “Yeah, she’ll be ready.” 

“She better be. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work,” Grant said. He turned around and started talking to some of the cooks on the line. 

“Sorry, he’s not usually like that,” Cassandra whispered.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you shrugged. 

“Some influencer called our food ‘classic’ and that sent Marcus spiraling. He’s been pushing Grant to revamp the menu, hence the tension. He’s probably just stressed,” she explained as she guided you back to the dining area. 

“That must be difficult for him,” you nodded sympathetically. You looked over and caught Grant staring at you. As soon as your eyes met his, he blushed slightly before quickly turning his attention back to the kitchen. 

In the few seconds his hazel eyes held your gaze, you felt heat spread across your body. He stared at you with a passionate intensity you’d never been on the receiving end of before. 

“Alright, we’ve got four hours to prepare you for service!” Cassandra said, clapping her hands together. 

You thought that your experience working in retail would have prepared you to work in the food industry but you were wrong. Six hours into your shift and the food industry had proved itself to be a different beast altogether. Your feet hurt, your arms ached, and you were convinced that you were developing tendinitis in your left wrist. It also didn’t help that every time you walked into the kitchen, you could feel Grant’s eyes following you, watching your every move. His intense gaze made you even more nervous than you already were on your first day. From the second dinner service started, you were on your feet, carrying plates to tables, refilling water, and fetching ice for the bar. 

“Refill water for 24.” 

“Bread 12.”

“Bar needs ice.”

“Table 27 needs a soup spoon.”

“Restock Sancerre.” 

As you walked into the kitchen to help Cassandra bring dishes to table 12, you spotted Grant. God, he looked good in his white t-shirt and brown apron with a white tea towel slung over his right shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed as he watched the sous chef plate up food. Amongst the chaos of the dinner rush, he remained calm, totally in his element as he guided his chefs through the storm. You watched intently as he yelled out orders, tasted sauces, and gave feedback. 

“Add a pinch of salt to that, Beans,” Grant said. He froze for a second and as if he could feel your gaze on him, his eyes slowly drifted up to meet yours. Fuck, you looked good in that button up white long sleeve, black tie, and black trousers. The uniform was supposed to look polished and professional but he couldn’t help thinking of grabbing you by your tie and pushing you into his body so he could kiss you. He found himself getting lost in your pretty eyes. The way you stared at him, eyes wide and entranced as if he was the only person in the room, the only one who mattered. 

“Chef, can you taste this?” Beans asked. “Chef?” 

Grant broke eye contact with you and turned back to Beans. “What?” he asked, slightly disoriented. 

“I added more salt. Can you try it now?”

“Oh, sure,” Grant nodded absentmindedly, glancing over at you again. He practically had to peel his eyes away from you as he took a spoon and tried the sauce. “Yeah, it’s good now.” 

“Alright, Cassandra, pick up table 12,” Beans said, putting the plates on the counter. 

“Great, let’s move,” Cassandra said, motioning for you to follow her. 

Grant tried his best not to let his eyes wander or linger on you for too long as you stood in front of him picking up plates but he couldn’t help it. You were hard to look away from and even worse, he didn’t want to look away from you. 

“This is a six top. Can you handle a three-plate carry?” Cassandra asked. 

You watched as she expertly took a plate in her hand, balanced another on her forearm, and then grabbed the third plate with her free hand. “Yeah, I think so,” you nodded. 

“Great, take those,” she said as she walked past the double doors into the dining area. 

You quickly tried to follow suit, taking a plate in your hand and grabbing another to place on your forearm. As soon as the plate touched your forearm, you felt a sharp burning sensation from the heat. “Fuck!” you cursed, dropping both plates as you clutched your forearm. The plates fell with a loud crash, the sound of glass shattering as the fresh food landed on the kitchen floor. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Beans sighed in an exasperated tone. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Grant asked, rushing towards you. He moved with urgency, completely forgetting his earlier determination to keep his distance from you. His expression softened as he placed his hand on your back, looking at you with his concern-filled hazel eyes. 

“I’m so sorry. It burned me,” you muttered, rubbing your tingling forearm. 

“Re-fire strip steak, medium rare and two halibut,” Grant called out to Beans. . 

“I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. I just- I didn’t expect the plate to be so-” you stuttered. 

“Let’s take a break, yeah? You’ve been on your feet all day,” he said, leading you into the staff room. With his hand still on your lower back, he sat down beside you, tracing soothing circles with his hand. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, it just felt like second nature for his hand to be on your body. 

You let out a deep breath, finally relaxing in the silence until you realized you were alone in a room with Grant and he was touching you. Heat surged through your entire body and you tensed at the contact. The warmth coming off of his large hand was both comforting and titillating. “I’m really sorry about breaking those plates,” you finally said, trying to break the palpable tension encasing the room. 

“Don’t worry about it. Breaking plates comes with the territory,” he smiled. 

You felt heat spread across your cheeks. The faint wrinkles and creases around his eyes as he smiled at you made him look even more perfect. “Thanks for being so nice,” you said softly. You weren’t sure where you stood with him. He had been cold to you in the morning but now, he was soft, caring, and gentle. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about earlier. You’re new to the team and it’s my job as the head chef to make you feel welcome. I was just…I had a lot of things on my mind,” Grant explained. He didn’t mention that you were the main thing on his mind. 

“It’s okay. Cassandra mentioned you were stressed about some stuff with Marcus,” you smiled sympathetically. 

“He wants North & Vine to be trendy and hip. He keeps acting like being classic is a bad thing but it’s all I know. Most head chefs at Michelin-starred restaurants trained in Europe while I learned to cook in army kitchens…and they don’t really cover fine dining in the army.” Grant was surprised by how easy it was to talk to you; he didn’t really open up to anyone, especially when it came to doubts he had about his cooking. There was something disarming about you, he wanted to let you in, tell you everything. 

“I’m kind of in the same boat- I mean, I’m the farthest thing from a chef but about the whole fine dining thing, I’m pretty clueless,” you confessed.  

“Guests giving you a hard time?” 

“A guest asked me what wine paired best with the risotto and I had no idea what to say. When I was refilling water for table 26, the couple there asked me what region our Riesling is from. The closest I’ve ever gotten to fine dining is the Cheesecake Factory…I guess I’m starting to realize why you didn’t want me here,” you confessed. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you here,” Grant shook his head. 

“Really?” you asked, looking at him with a surprised expression. “I got the impression that I wasn’t really wanted. Aside from Cassandra, most people seem annoyed to have someone as clueless as me working here.” 

He was silent for a few seconds, wondering what to say next. Part of him wanted to confess that the problem was he wanted you too much but the other more logical part of him wanted to stay quiet and continue being cold to you. But before he could stop himself, the illogical part of him took over and he found himself saying, “You’re wanted here.” 

“I am?”

He turned to look at you and nodded. This time saying it with more conviction because that man really did mean it, even if it was for the wrong reasons, “You’re wanted here.” 

“Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” 

You sat beside him in silence for a few moments, suddenly feeling more sure of your place at North & Vine when you felt him move his leg just an inch closer to yours, his thigh now touching yours. “I could uhh…give you lessons, if you want,” he offered. His cheeks blushed a faint pink colour as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Lessons?” 

“Yeah, it’s important for you to know how the food is supposed to taste and what wines pair best with our dishes.” 

“Like lessons in taste?” you asked in a soft voice that came out more seductive than you intended it to sound. 

Grant inhaled sharply and looked up at the ceiling for a second, trying to remind himself who you were and who he was. He told himself he would do the lessons to benefit the restaurant, he couldn’t have a backwaiter working at North & Vine who didn’t know the first thing about food. “Yeah, something like that,” he shrugged casually, pretending like his heart wasn’t practically thumping out of his chest at the feeling of your leg touching his. 

“Can we start tonight- if you’re not busy?” you asked. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy knowing you were about to spend the rest of the night alone with Grant. 

He was pleasantly surprised by your eagerness. “Okay, sure. Just hang around here after service is over.” 

“Pick up table 12!” Beans called out from the kitchen. 

“I should get back out there,” you said, standing up and straightening out your apron. 

Grant nodded and watched you walk away as he wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. He knew it was a bad- no, it was a terrible idea for him to be alone with you when he was thinking of you in ways no boss should be thinking about their employee. But there was something intoxicating about your presence. You made him want to push all the boundaries and break all his rules just to be alone with you. He wanted to lose himself in you. 

The remaining hours of service seemed to drag on for Grant. Each minute passed excruciatingly slowly because all he could think of was being alone with you. Once dinner service was finally over and customers emptied out of the restaurant, leaving behind staff, Grant walked out of the kitchen and into the dining area to watch you. 

He stood at the bar, under the guise of taking inventory of what type of alcohol he needed Marcus to reorder just so he could watch you. There you were, standing in the dining room with Cassandra bundling up silverware. Your black tie had been loosened and your white shirt was unbuttoned. His eyes flitted to your lips, so plump and full that he couldn’t help wondering what they would look like wrapped around his thick cock. Then he noticed your fingernails, perfectly manicured, which naturally brought the thought of what your fingernails would feel like digging into his chest. When you leaned down to pick up a fallen napkin off of the floor, Grant caught a glimpse of the bra you were wearing. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of your cleavage, perfect round breasts being held up by that delicate pink lace bra. Grant made a fist and brought it to his mouth, biting his knuckles to suppress a groan. All it took was one look at your chest and he could feel a tent forming in his pants, his cock straining tightly against the fabric. 

“Goodnight, chef. See you tomorrow!” Beans waved as he walked out the door. 

“Goodnight,” Grant said in a strained voice. Thank god he was wearing an apron that somewhat managed to hide his erection. More staff members were filtering out of the restaurant and he knew he needed to act fast. He was about to spend the next hour or so alone with you, teaching you how to taste. Grant knew that he needed to do something to curb his insatiable appetite for you or he’d be stuck with a boner all night. 

While you were finishing the silverware, Grant quickly rushed to Marcus’s empty office, locked the door, and pulled out his aching cock. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and he closed his eyes as he slowly wrapped his fingers around his length. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, inhaling a sharp breath as his thumb swiped over his sensitive tip. 

He spat in his hand and with his eyes closed, pretending his hand was you, he started stroking his cock. It was thick and heavy, pulsing in his hand. His chest heaved up and down, thinking of how good it would feel to be inside you. Your tight, wet, and warm pussy; walls clenching tightly around him. His movements started speeding up, stroking his length with urgency. 

“Yeah, yeah, just like that,” he gasped. His eyes were closed and he had to put his free hand over his mouth to cover all the whimpers and moans that were threatening to spill out of him. With a few more strokes and a couple squeezes around his cock, hot ropes of cum were spurting out of his tip, spilling all over his hand. 

Embarrassment, guilt, and another emotion he couldn’t quite decipher- shame or maybe perverted arousal swept over him. You were younger than him, much younger, not to mention the fact that you were his employee and he was your boss. In all his years as a chef, back in the army and at North & Vine, he had never pleasured himself at work. Grant liked to think of himself as a disciplined man but for whatever reason, you had him fucking his fist like a horny teenager in his partner’s office. 

Then he heard you call out his name, “Grant?” followed by footsteps heading towards the office. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He frantically grabbed a bunch of tissues and wiped the cum off of his hands and the floor before opening the door. 

“Oh hi,” you smiled when he walked out of the office. “Everyone else has headed home so…” 

“Yeah, great. Let’s go back to the kitchen,” Grant said, slightly breathless. He placed his hand- the hand he just used to stroke his cock and cum, on your lower back and led you into the kitchen. 

“So, what’s on the agenda for tonight’s lesson, chef?” you asked in a playful tone, leaning against the counter. 

Grant turned his back to you as he grabbed a few things from the walk-in and closed his eyes, surprising a groan. Hearing you call him chef turned him on much more than it should. Fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him. 

“Let’s start with wine tasting,” he said, pulling out a bottle of wine. 

“Wow, getting me drunk?” you laughed softly. You looked at him, hoping he would be laughing but his entire body was tense and rigid. His lips were pressed together in a straight line. You stopped laughing immediately and said, “Shit, sorry, that was inappropriate.” 

“No, don’t apologize,” Grant shook his head. He knew he was probably giving you whiplash with his constantly changing emotions but he was losing his restraint by the second. Hearing your laugh, being alone in a room with you, it was all becoming too much for him. 

“Okay.” 

Grant pulled up a stool and motioned for you to sit down. “Here, try this,” he said, pouring a glass of white wine and handing the glass to you. His fingers grazed yours, sending shivers down your body at the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your hand. 

You took the glass in your hand and sniffed the wine because that was something you had seen people do in movies before drinking it. 

“Slow down. Just take a few sips, let it sit on your tongue,” he said. 

You paused for a second and then nodded, trying to ignore the heat growing between your thighs at the sound of his voice. 

“That’s it. Good,” he nodded approvingly. “Now what do you taste?” 

The wine swirled around in your mouth, coating your tongue before you swallowed. “It’s quite sweet…a little sour,” you replied, looking at him. 

“You taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue and the sour near the back, right?” he leaned in towards you and took the glass from your hand, taking a sip right where your lips had touched the glass. 

Your eyes widened, surprised by his action and how much it turned you on. You exhaled a shaky breath as you felt your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. How’d you know?” 

“Every taste has its corresponding area. You taste sweet on the front of the tongue, then salt on the side, umami in the middle, sour on the back ends, and finally, bitter at the back of your tongue.” 

“Wow, I never noticed that before,” you remarked. “Can we try another one?” 

Grant smiled and nodded. For a moment, he forgot about all his lustful thoughts, relishing in how good it felt to teach you. He liked how eager you were to learn and as a chef, he loved passing on his culinary knowledge. “Here, taste this,” he said, holding a spoon with the ice cream he had used for tonight’s dessert to your lips. 

You leaned forward, letting him feed you. You kept your eyes locked on his as your lips wrapped around the spoon and tasted the ice cream. Closing your eyes for a second, you let it coat your tongue, feeling the cool sweet creamy flavour on your tastebuds. You tasted the sweet vanilla on the tip of your tongue, the slight acidity from the lemon, and the bitterness from the bourbon hitting the back of your tongue. 

“What do you taste?” he asked. This time his voice was low and when you looked into his hazel eyes, his pupils were dilated. 

Without giving yourself a moment to hesitate, you leaned in closer to him, glancing down at his lips then back at his eyes before you kissed him. Grant was frozen for a few seconds, he couldn’t believe that you had kissed him. “Oh my god. I…shit, I can’t believe I just did that,” you stuttered. You felt heat spread across your cheeks as panic washed over you. 

“Wait,” Grant said. Deep down, he knew that it would be better for both of you if you walked out that door but fuck, he couldn’t let you go. 

“No, I should go,” you shook your head and started walking towards the doors. 

Grant called out your name, grabbed you by your black tie and pulled you back into him. He pressed his warm lips against yours and rested his large hands on your hips, kissing you with all the passion and intensity he had been fighting from the second you walked into his restaurant. Kissing you like this crossed a line that there was no going back from. But truthfully, that line had been crossed the second he put his personal feelings before his professional feelings and hired you instead of the dozens of other more qualified candidates. That line was crossed again when he fucked his fist thinking of you. 

You gasped softly as his hand found your lower back and pressed you against him. “Grant,” you moaned softly into his mouth. You felt his tongue slip into your mouth, dancing against yours. The taste of his spit in his mouth, mixing with your saliva had you clenching around nothing. 

“You tell me what you want,” he whispered into your ear as he kissed your neck.  “Can I touch you here? Do you like that?”’

You pulled away from him for a second, looked into his eyes and said, “I like it all.” 

That gave him the confidence he needed. With his unsteady hands, he unbuttoned your shirt and found your nipple, lightly pinching it through your bra. “Does that feel good?” 

The friction of the lace rubbing your nipple and his finger pinched the nub had you moaning, “Fuck, Grant, feels so good.” 

“God, I want you so badly,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. His chest moving up and down as he stared into your eyes. He placed your hand over the rock hard bulge in his pants. “You feel that?” 

Your mouth started salivating as you felt the outline of his thick cock. “Yeah,” you nodded, biting your lower lip. 

“This is why I didn’t want you here. You’ve been on my mind all day…I can’t focus on anything else but you,” he confessed. His calloused hands stroked your soft cheek and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Can I taste you?” 

Grant was surprised by your request. Kissing you was one thing, but letting you suck his cock was something different altogether. But his cock twitched at the way you asked, so politely, so eager to touch him. “You want to?”

“Yes, I really want to,” you said, licking your lips. 

“Fuck, okay, get on your knees,” he nodded. 

You obediently dropped down to your knees, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his past down. You started off by teasing him, rubbing his throbbing cock against his boxers before you pulled them down. When you took out his cock, you paused for a second, taking it in. It was so girthy that your fingers didn’t meet as you held it in your hands. You swiped your thumb over the slit, spreading around the pre-cum that was dripping from his top. Then with both hands, you started stroking up and down his length. His hips jerked forward when you tightened your grip around him.

“Yeah, just let me make you feel good,” you whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Grant hissed. His head fell back as he started moaning your name. The warmth from your mouth surrounding his cock, the feeling of your plump lips wrapped around him felt so good. 

Your eyes started watering as you felt him hit the back of your throat but you kept going, you wanted to take all of him. His fingers were tangled in your hair, wrapping around your ponytail as he jerked his hips forward, losing himself in pleasure and coming undone in front of you. 

“Yeah, just like that. Fuck. You look so pretty sucking my cock,” he moaned. His chest moved up and down, his breaths growing quicker and unsteady. His grip on your ponytail tightened and his cock twitched in your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Mmm,” you nodded. His cum spurted into your mouth, filling you up. You kept bobbing your head up and down, working him through his orgasm as more hot ropes of cum flooded your mouth. 

When you pulled off of his cock, you looked up at him. Your cheeks were stained with tears, lips were swollen, saliva smeared around your mouth, and his cum dripped down your chin. “Tell me what you taste,” he said. 

You closed your eyes, letting his cum swish around your mouth, coating your tongue. “Salty, a little sour and sweet.” 

“Good girl,” Grant nodded approvingly. He leaned down to wipe your tears with his thumb and then he put his thumb towards his mouth and licked it, tasting your salty tears. 

“What’s the next lesson?” you asked, 

Grant chuckled, amused at how keen you were. “Since you’re doing so well. You deserve a reward.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. With his big strong hands, he lifted you up by your hips, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing and carried you into the staff room. He placed you down on the table.

“Grant,” you whined, tilting your head back as you felt his calloused hands all over your body. He quickly took off your bra, followed by your pants and lace panties until you were completely naked on the table. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Grant groaned. His eyes wandered all over your body, drinking in your curves, stomach, and breasts before landing between your legs at your soaking pussy. 

He leaned in and started kissing you, one hand wrapped around your neck while the other moved down your body, squeezing your breasts and twisting your sensitive nipples. He could feel the heat radiating off of your body as his tongue was in your mouth. 

“Grant, I need you,” you whimpered, pulling back from the kiss to look at him. 

“Lean back for me, sweetheart,” he commanded, using the same authoritative voice he used while working in the kitchen. 

You obliged, leaning back and spreading your legs for him. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch as he dropped to his knees. He gripped your hips and pulled you forward all the way to the edge of the table. 

Grant buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a starved man. His tongue licked up and down your folds. His nose bumped against your clit and you buried your fingers into his hair. His tongue went deep inside you, moving around your gummy walls as your pussy clenched around him. “You taste so good,” he moaned. A low groan escaped his lips at the taste of your sweetness that vibrated into your pussy. 

“Oh fuck, Grant!” you cried out. You bucked your hips up, thrusting into his face, needy for more. 

The sound of Grant licking your pussy and your moans filling the staff room were obscene. If anyone walked in, you would lose your job but you were too blissed out to care. You had entered a mindless state of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was how good it felt having Grant’s mouth on your pussy. Your vision went blurry and white hot pleasure surged through your entire body. 

He pulled his mouth away from you and you squirmed at the loss of contact until he slapped your pussy a few times, his palm hitting your clit. The sound of his hand against your sopping wet pussy filled the room. The pressure from his slaps felt so fucking good that you could feel tightness building up in your lower abdomen. Then he slid two thick fingers into your pussy. “That’s it, keep your eyes on me. Good girl,” he said, looking up at you. Your juices dripped down your chin, his pupils were dilated, and his hair was disheveled but fuck, he never looked better. 

Grant’s fingers pumped in and out of you, starting with slow, languid movements before speeding up. All it took was his two fingers and he was hitting all the spots your fingers were never able to reach. He rubbed your clit, moving his thumb on the sensitive bundle of nerves with hard, slow circles. His free hand reached up to your breasts, twisting each nipple. 

“Yeah, fuck, right there,” you moaned when his fingers curled inside of you and hit that deep spongy spot. Your legs started shaking and your entire body trembled. Your walls pulsed and clenched tightly around his fingers. 

“Cum for me,” Grant said, watching intently as you fell apart for him. 

“Oh my god, Grant I’m cumming!” you cried out, arching your back and rocking your hips up. The tightness in your abdomen snapped, sending your entire body convulsing. Your mouth fell open as moans spilled out. 

Grant fingered you through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. When you propped yourself up on your elbows again to look at him, he was watching you with adoration. The corners of his eyes were slightly crinkled as he smiled at you. His hand traced soothing circles on your shaking thighs while he brought his other hand to your mouth. “Taste yourself.” 

You opened your mouth and sucked on his thick fingers, your tongue licking up every bit of your arousal that clung to his skin. “Tastes sweet,” you hummed. 

“That’s right,” he nodded. “You did so good today, sweetheart.” 

You scooted closer to him, leaning your head against his chest as you looked up into his eyes. “Can we do this again?” you asked in a hopeful voice. 

Grant ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, a chuckle coming out of his lips when he looked down at you. 

“What?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“All it took was one shift,” he laughed softly.

“What do you mean?”

“When you walked into the kitchen with Cassandra, I was determined to keep you at a distance, to stay professional. And I didn’t even last a fucking day,” he gently tilted your chin up to look into his eyes.  “That’s the effect you have on me.” 

“Being professional is overrated,” you smirked, kissing his bicep. 

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from having you every night.”