Turning Up the Heat: Chapter Four

Around seven-thirty the next night, I pulled into the lot behind Oskar’s restaurant. He’d told me to park around back by his house as the parking in front could get crowded and he was right. I was amazed at the cars that seemed to wind around the block and the crowd that was gathered in front of the understated restaurant.

The sign in front simply said: Mesa.

I walked in and a young hostess approached me. “Are you Miss Rankin?”

“I am.”

She had short red hair and a friendly but no-nonsense expression. “Chef Olsen told me to expect you around this time. I’m Sophie, let me show you back to the kitchen.”

I wound through the tables where dishes clinked and quiet conversation hummed. Every dish I passed made my mouth water. I knew I was in for a fantastic meal.

The door to the kitchen swung open as we approached, and I caught my first glimpse of Oskar in his element as he barked orders at his line chefs and checked the stove in front of him. Flames leapt up from underneath the pan he held, and he dipped a spoon into the pan, then up to his lips to taste. His forehead furrowed, and he quickly added something to the pan before looking up and catching me watching him.

Oskar’s eyes were heated and intense; he licked a bit of sauce from his lower lip before offering me a slight nod. He caught Sophie’s eye and motioned to a small table in the corner of the kitchen with his chin. Then his attention was drawn away by one of his line chefs who asked a question. “Victor, where are we on the pork belly?”

“Coming out of the oven in five, Chef.”

I settled myself at the table and Sophie excused herself. There was a single place setting along with a number of wine glasses and an open bottle of white was chilling in a bucket.

I heard Oskar shout above the din of rattling pots and pans. “Pour two glasses of wine. It’s one of your brother’s and it will go nicely with your first course.”

I raised my voice so he could hear me. “Do I get to pick what I’m eating?”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then no.”

I smiled and poured a modest amount into two glasses. I figured from the profile in the magazine that Oskar Olsen would be a bit of a tyrant in the kitchen and he did not disappoint. He barked orders and cursed in what I assumed was Danish. He bantered with the cooks and glanced my way repeatedly, shooting me stares that made my stomach  clench in anticipation.

While I was usually fascinated watching any chef work, with Oskar I was mesmerized.

And completely turned on.

He was incredibly attractive and when he was in chef-mode, he was scorching. There was a slight lull in the action, and he made his way over to the table and set a small plate in front of me.

“Your amuse-bouche.” He sipped a bit of wine and went back to the grill.

“What is the amuse-bouche, Chef?” I got out a notepad and started taking notes.

“Wild mushroom pate from locally foraged chanterelles, served with sourdough crostini, a hint of sage oil and toasted hazelnuts on the side.”

I swirled the wine and breathed in deeply before taking a sip. It was a Viognier, and the bright acidic taste woke my palate. I spread a bit of the pate on the crostini and took a bite.

“Oh my God.” I breathed out a long sigh. Incredible.

Oskar glanced up. “Good?”

“I love mushroom pate and yours is very good.”

“I know. I mean, I know it’s very good.” He lifted one shoulder while he watched something simmering in a pan. “And now I know you like pate.”

He continued feeding me, course after course: a savory crepe filled with fresh goat cheese, local honey and figs, a braised pork belly with toasted mustard seed and quince, short ribs in a cabernet reduction. I took small bites of everything so I didn’t stuff myself and throughout the meal.

Oskar would drop by the table, sharing what he put in front of me, sipping wine and explaining different things about the menu. He also asked me personal questions, mixing the personal and the professional in a way that was fun, but a little unnerving.

I was in heaven. I wasn’t sure if this was technically a date, but if it was, it was the best one I’d ever had.

“Your food is great,” I told him on one of his breaks. “And it pairs really well with my brother’s wine.”

He glanced at my notebook. “Are you working right now?”

“Kind of?” I squinted. “The lines are a little blurry with you.”

He smiled. “Good.”

Oskar stood and went back to work, and my eyes tracked him. Unlike the night before at the party, in the kitchen he wasn’t unsure of anything.

I was impressed on so many levels. His restaurant was amazing. He was amazing. My brain was swirling and it wasn’t from the wine.

As the evening slowed down, he sat with me and ate more, leaning closer to me and even feeding me a few bites he put together.

“Come on.” He urged my mouth open. “You have to try the pork belly with the quince.”

“Oskar, I know—”

“Trust me.”

The tip of his fork touched my lips and I opened for him.

“See?” He smiled. “Now you can tell Talia you’ve definitely had my meat in your mouth.”

I barely managed to swallow, I was laughing so much.

Slowly but surely the kitchen emptied out. The last table left. The chefs cleaned their stations. The dishwashers shouted back and forth as they finished small hills of plates, silverware, and glasses. One chef was helping out polishing glasses that he immediately hung on a massive rack near the door.

Oskar and I were nibbling on some cheese and grapes and finishing a bottle of shiraz when I realized we were finally alone. The last cook had finished cleaning his station and Sophie popped her head back into the kitchen.

“Should I lock up the front, Chef?”

“Yes, Sophie, we’ll go out the back. Thank you.” He lifted a hand. “Enjoy your day off.”

“Thanks. You too.”

I looked at Oskar who had unbuttoned his white jacket and stretched his legs out from the table. He looked exhausted, but totally keyed up.

I knew the feeling. “So, what do you do to wind down from dinner service, Chef?”

He smiled. “Tonight I’m enjoying a bottle of wine with a beautiful woman who has moaned over my food for the past few hours.”

“Moaned? I don’t think I was moaning.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I heard one or two.”

“What can I say?” I leaned an elbow on the table. “I was hungry.”

“Is that so?” He leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. “Then I’m glad I could feed you.”

His chest was a work of art. I was so turned on from watching him cook, he could have flicked a finger and had me on my knees.

Oskar looked over and saw me looking at his body. “I think you’re still hungry.”

I slowly shook my head. “This is probably a bad idea.”

“Why?” The corner of his mouth turned up. “I think we’re both thinking the same thing.”

“Are we?”

He leaned across the table, ran his thumb along my jaw, and traced a finger around my lips. “You’re beautiful and I want you.”

“I know.” I smiled. “I mean, I know I’m beautiful and now I know you want me.”

What are you doing, what are you doing? I was being an idiot, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

The corner of Oskar’s mouth turned up. I stood up and stepped behind him, working his jacket off his shoulders. He wore nothing but a white sleeveless t-shirt underneath it. I put my hands on his muscular shoulders and dug in.

He let out a long breath. “Fuck, that’s amazing.”

“Does cooking turn you on?”

“Cooking makes me happy. You turn me on.” His head fell back against my stomach.

I slowly worked my hands down his biceps, then up the back of his neck.

He caught my hand and pressed it to his chest. “Stop.”

I leaned down and brushed a kiss over his rough cheek. “Thank you for dinner, Chef.”

Before I could squeak, he pulled me around sat me on his lap, wrapping an arm around my waist as he pulled me close and kissed me.

This was no amouse bouche. This was the seven-course dinner.

My hands tangled in Oskar’s hair and I moaned into his mouth. His tongue was tart from red wine, and his large hands framed my face as he angled my lips against his over and over.

Oskar pulled back and stared at my lips. “I told you. Still hungry.”

With that, he picked me up from off his lap, his hands cupping my backside and walked me to one of the large work tables at the back of the kitchen that had just been cleaned.

Was I really doing this?

Oskar set me down and looked at me, his lower lip swollen from my teeth. “Yes?”

Oh fuck yes. I started lifting his shirt. “Definitely. Yes.”

“Good.” His hands teased underneath the edge of my shirt while his mouth worked down my neck. I was trapped in his arms, my eyes rolled back in pleasure as he set my body on fire.

Oskar’s hungry mouth moved down my neck, and he nipped at my collar bones with his teeth before pulling back and looking at me again.

“Kelsey.” He murmured something under his breath as his fingers dug into the skin on my lower back. His hands slid up, taking my shirt with them, but he paused to look in my eyes. “Really?”


I yanked my shirt over my head and Oskar ripped his own undershirt over his head and threw it on the ground. My shirt followed, then my bra. When we were both naked from the waist up, he lowered me back and stood over me, taking in the view.


The cool stainless steel on my back and his heated gaze raking my torso had my nipples on pointe. Oskar stood over me, bared to the waist, a light dusting of hair scattered over his chest and the hair he’d pulled back in a short knot falling around his face.

He looked feral.

And very hungry.

He made a low sound in his throat as he bent down to taste my breasts. He ran his tongue over them before sucking the peaks into his mouth and nibbling at the sensitive underside. His hands gripped my back, bringing my torso up to meet his mouth, and he paused briefly to murmur something against my skin.

“What?” I hadn’t caught what he said.

“First course.”

I groaned and my head fell back, hitting the hard table, but I didn’t even register the pain. His mouth moved back to my breasts before trailing down to the button of my slacks. He slowly unbuttoned them with callused fingers, sliding the zipper down while his tongue made lazy strokes around my belly-button. He pushed them down my legs and my panties went with them.

My shoes had fallen off when he set me on the work table, so my trousers slid down with a soft thump, leaving me completely naked on a stainless steel work table. He knelt down and licked his lips in anticipation. I’d propped myself up on my elbows, and he hooked my knees over his broad shoulders to open me up.

His tongue licked from my knee all the way to the junction of my thighs, and his hands gripped my legs as he bent his head. He nibbled lightly at the sensitive skin, slowly working his way up.

My body was on fire. I was consumed by him and ready to be consumed.

“Main course,” he murmured before diving in.

I was already so turned on that it took only of few minutes of his mouth nibbling and licking before he brought me to a screaming climax.

“Oskar.” My throaty scream echoed through the kitchen.

My head banged down on the table, but I didn’t care. The waves were cresting and I hadn’t had a release like this in… months. Years. Ever?

I was nearly sobbing by the time Oskar started to ease me down, sucking, then placing soft kisses all the way up my torso as he rose from his knees, pulling me up to sitting as he went.

I was shaking, but I pulled him down for a hard kiss, licking the taste of myself off his lips. The sound he made in the back of his throat made my body hum. My hands moved to the front of his pants where his hard length was straining to get out.

Oskar hissed out a hard breath as I stroked him through his pants.

“Kelsey, I want you so—“

“So that was the main course?” I continued stroking him.

He closed his eyes, rocking back and forth a little in my hands, and smiled. “I think you’re my new favorite flavor.” His eyes were closed, but he ran soft fingers through my hair, teasing my neck and my ears.

“Well, Chef. I hope you left room for dessert.” I unbuttoned his pants and shoved them and his boxer briefs down as far as I could reach. He caught his pants quickly and grabbed for his wallet in the back pocket, taking out a foil packet before I remembered to be smart.

“I am so glad you thought of that.”

He set it on the table next to me, and braced his long arms on either side of my body. “Put it on.”

“Yes, Chef.”

I grabbed his very hard, very ready erection in two hands. I stroked it a few times while he moaned and closed his eyes.

He hissed from between his teeth. “Kelsey, I need to be inside you now.”

It wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but I wasn’t going to argue.

“Absolutely, Chef.”

I tore open the condom and rolled it on him. Then I scooted forward and and he grabbed my legs to pull me closer to edge of the worktable. It was the perfect height, and he gripped my legs as he slowly worked his way in my body.

I was ready for him, but I’d never had a lover that large and the fit was tight. Nearly painful. Oskar kept kissing me over and over as he slid in. When he reached the hilt, he let out a slow breath, put his hands on my hips and rocked slowly.

Fuck me, he had size and he knew how to use it? What was wrong with him? There had to be something wrong with him.

“What are you thinking” —he hitched me closer, angling up as he rocked and knocking every thought from my head— “in that busy brain of yours?”

I shook my head because there were no words.

Oskar tilted my head up and locked his eyes with mine as he pulled out and pushed in, slowly building a steady rhythm. “Good?”

“So good.” I could barely speak.

After giving me a few strokes to get used to his size he reached down and lifted my legs up, then I wrapped my legs around him and he took the brakes off. Oskar’s eyes were intent on me, locked with mine as he thrust into me over and over.

My only thought was that I wanted more. I never wanted this to end, it felt so incredibly good. I could feel a climax building again, and my hands gripped his shoulders.

“Look at me.”


He took by breath away.

When he tilted me back I knew he was coming undone so I closed my eyes and let go, shaking as a second climax took me. I wrapped my arms around Oskar’s broad shoulders and he followed my release, shouting something I didn’t understand as his eyes closed and his head tilted back in ecstasy.

I leaned up to lick his neck, salted with sweat. The taste stung the sides of my tongue and made m mouth water. His hand moved to my neck as he brought my mouth to his and slowly rocked us down from our mutual high.

When we’d both stopped shivering, Oskar brushed a kiss over my cheek and stepped away to take care of the condom. I stretched my legs, flexing them and hoping the feeling would return eventually.

Oskar walked back to the table, his pants hanging loosely on his hips. “Kelsey, we have some problems.”

“What?” For a second, I thought the condom had broke, but he was smiling and stroking my hair. “What’s wrong?”

“We-ell.” He drew out the word and I heard his accent get stronger. “It’s very late, and you have had far too much wine to drive back to your friends’ house. You should probably come home with me, since I live right behind the restaurant.”

“Hmm.” I nodded, narrowing my eyes as I hopped down off the table and searched for my clothes. “Safety first.”

He picked up my bra, dangling it off his finger. “Yes. Safety.”

“Safety is so important.” I grabbed the bra and stuffed it in the pocket of the pants I’d just pulled on.

Oskar looked around the restaurant. “Also, we’ve made a bit of a mess.”

Thank God for condoms because it could have been so much worse. “Yes. We should clean it up.”

“In the morning,” he added. “After breakfast.”

I grinned. “Agreed.” I pulled my shirt on quickly, because I was starting to shiver. “Anything else, Chef?”

“Eh…” He was looking around the kitchen and frowning. “The main problem is, how am I ever going to cook in here again without being completely distracted?”

Copyright 2024, Elizabeth Hunter

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