BLOG TOUR ~ Under Pressure by Aria Cole

 

 

 

 

 

 


Jean-Luc Martel knows good taste. As the award-winning celebrity chef of éloïse, he’s amassed a high-end clientele and hordes of dedicated foodie fans. But while he’s a master in the kitchen, his reputation for being a nightmare to work with precedes him. Known for his rapid-fire temper, chiseled good looks, and a dash of tattooed, bad boy edge, Jean-Luc doesn’t take shit from anyone. Until he meets Delaney Thomas. She’s talented, sassy, entirely too sexy for her own good, and the niece of his best friend and sous chef.

Every bone in his body is telling him to take what’s his, but outside forces soon conspire to pull them apart, and Jean-Luc finds himself more torn and tortured than he’s ever been. As his bad boy reputation threatens to rattle the very foundations of the forever he’s trying to build with Delaney, they’ll both be forced to decide if love really can exist under the most intense pressure.

Warning: Jean-Luc is a sex-on-a-stick, walking, talking, blue-blooded alpha male. The only thing that melts this man’s frozen heart is the woman of his dreams, and something tells him nothing would taste sweeter than Delaney on his tongue. If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of Jean-Luc’s kitchen!



Jean-Luc

“Get these out the door. Come on, guys! It’ll be fucking cold by the time it reaches the table!” I belted, pushing two elegantly decorated plates into the hands of the next server that walked into the kitchen.
She looked at me, eyes wide as she struggled, nearly dropping one of them.
“Table twelve.” The growl that vibrated from my throat must have done its job. She spun, racing right back out the doors she’d come through without a word.
“Fuck, who does the hiring around here?” I shoved a hand into the deep pocket of my apron and pulled out my pack of cigarettes. I was supposed to be quitting, one last habit I hadn’t quite been able to shake. “I’ll be back in five.”
I waved, leaving the kitchen staff to handle the firing of a new round of dishes. Sometimes I imagined what my life would be like if I went somewhere else, cut and run on this little venture, but I couldn’t, because it was my little venture.
I groaned, shoving through the back door to the alleyway and leaning against the cold brick as I lit the stick in my mouth. I took one long, slow inhale, letting the smoke evaporate my anxiety, feeling it coil through my body like an instant muscle relaxer. No wonder I couldn’t quit these little babies; my life was too damn stressful at éloïse not to have a few vices to get me through.
“Chef?” My sous chef, Nero, pushed through the crack in the door.
“Fuck, what, man? I can’t take any more shit tonight. I’m going to start taking the hiring away from Frank. I can’t carry the front and the back of the house by myself.”
Nero’s eyes widened before someone stepped out from behind him, almost smaller than he was, as if that were possible. She was barely five foot two and had enough curves to get a man lost for days.
“Who’s this?” I drew on my cigarette.
“This is my niece. Frank hired her as the hostess, but she’s got some experience expediting.” Nero nodded. “She grew up in my father’s restaurant, knows her way around things real well.”
“How old is she?” I tried like hell to keep my eyes off her oversized ocean-blue ones. Christ, why did she keep looking at me like that? Like she was seeing inside my soul. Every goddamn dark corner I kept hidden, she shone a light on. It made me uncomfortable, made me kinda fucking itch. I sucked another lungful of cancer into my body and exhaled, trying to shake the feeling, praying the nicotine would do its job and relax my muscles into submission.
“Just turned twenty-one,” Nero finally answered. I knew his family came from a long line of chefs, cooks, and restaurateurs. They were an accomplished family in their own right, and that’s why he was my right-hand man. Also, because he knew me, inside and out. Every shameful secret I had, Nero knew. He was one of the few people who knew everything about me that I actually kept around—and only because he was a damn good cook. I couldn’t run this place half as well without him, and I paid him top dollar to show my appreciation. Fucker deserved a gold mine for the hell I put him through.
I’d met Nero years ago, during a time I’d rather forget. That guy had seen me at my worst. And now that we were both in a better place, it’d only made sense that I bring him on when I finally cajoled investors and was able to open my own restaurant. Whoever sank two million into the startup of éloïse had to be a little crazy, and Frank was no doubt that, but he also saw something in me no one else had: passion. Food was my life, and it was the only thing that saved me all those years ago when I was destitute on the street.
But that was the past, and hell if I liked lingering there.
Éloïse, home of seasonal local dishes that evolved on a daily basis, was my baby. All plates curated by me, Chef Jean-Luc Martel. Food & Wine had rated me #1 up-and-coming chef to watch when I was twenty-two. I’d had a rocky road the first half of my thirty-two years, but the second half I’d made count.
The one thing I apparently did not have?
A decent wait staff.
“Tell Frank I want to chat with him about hiring,” I shot to Nero, tossing my cigarette in the butt tray then finally catching the eye of the blue-eyed beauty who’d been cowering in the shadows before now. “What do I call you?”
She took a step into the light, eyes narrowing before her lush lips opened. “Delaney Thomas.” I swore when she said her name a lightning bolt cleaved my heart in two. “Can’t wait to work with you, Chef.”
Christ, I was in deep water with this one.
My gaze ate up and down her form. “How loud do you holler?”
Her eyes flared with surprise as Nero’s laugh pulled me from Delaney Thomas. “I’ll catch you later, Lane.” Nero patted Delaney on the back, shaking his head at me before putting up a finger. “Go easy on her, Chef.”
“Goin’ easy on anyone never got them anywhere.” I knew that firsthand. I’d worked tooth and nail to get this place, and the fact that the front of the house was all but failing was a thorn in my side. I had to take the reins on hiring, and I only hoped Miss Delaney Thomas knew what she was doing because I didn’t have the tolerance for ineptitude. There was a reason éloïse was a Michelin starred restaurant, and I planned on keeping it that way.
“I can work front or back, wherever you want me,” she said. Her uncle had left us alone, this dark alleyway and a sliver of moonlight the only things separating me from her.
Our bodies.
Fuck.
I hadn’t thought about a woman this way since… Hell, maybe ever. And that irritated me. Everything about this irritated me. How could I work in the kitchen when she was floating around, bumping against my body, and leaning over, her gorgeous tits flashing in my—
“Where do you want me, Chef?”
I cleared my throat, suddenly starved for something. Her, underneath me, would satisfy my craving, for starters.
I moved closer, the heady scent of delicious peaches unfurling around me. Jesus, did she really smell like that? I wanted to bury my face in her creamy, delicious flesh and take my fill. Eat and drink from her altar until I was covered in her juices, dripping with the scent of ripe peaches and Delaney. Damn, I bet she tasted like honey.
Fuck. I had a problem.
“I’ve got high standards, Delaney. I’m not an easy man to please.” I paused, leveling her with my eyes. “I hope you can handle the pressure.”
One eyebrow arched, beautiful red painted lips quirking up in a soft grin. “You might be surprised what I can handle.”
Her arms crossing over her chest drew my attention to the delicate petal pink fabric falling over her heavy tits. I sucked in another inhale of peach-scented heaven, my jaw tense as I growled, “Don’t wear the smelly shit tomorrow.”
I don’t think my dick can handle it.
“Sure thing, Chef.” She tilted her head to the side and walked back through the back door, belting out orders to the kitchen staff like she’d been doing it her whole life.
Jesus.
I didn’t know if I should thank Nero for saving my life or fire him for torturing me with his niece.
Delaney was in my kitchen and under my skin, and I’d only known her five damn minutes.
I was in so much trouble.

 


 

 




Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.


For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn’t take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she’s writing next!

Sign up to get a NEW RELEASE ALERT from me!


About Book Loving Pixies

We live to read!!! Our favourite genre is PNR - yep, we are more than happy to admit that we are complete #parawhores...... saying that, we will read and review a real mix of genres - from the better known authors to new-to-us authors and everything in between. We hope you like our posts/reviews and enjoy our blog. Thanks for stopping by our site!!!

Posted on 30/03/2017, in Authors & Books, Blurb, Excerpt, New Releases, Teaser and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I just finished this last night. Really enjoyed it – sharing

    Like

  2. Reblogged this on and commented:
    Sharing book post from Book loving pixies

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

N.M. Catalano Writer/Author

Adult Content, 18+ Only

Lisa * My Everyday Life

My Life.- Everyday is an Adventure.

Exile on Peachtree Street

Hunter S. Jones. Author. Atlanta GA

Ophelia's

Speaking Out on the Unspeakable

Get Weekly Erotic Tales

Erotica, Writing About Writing Sex, and Much More!

BE MY BOOK BOYFRIEND

Fictional characters non-fictional feelings

...Burns Through Her Bookshelf

Voracious reader, book lover, spastic blogger, audiologist. These things are some of me, but not the sum of me.

DPAPA

Living a flip flop life!

Pink Ink

Ten authors, four countries, one blog.

After Dark Book Lovers

END YOUR DAY WITH A GOOD BOOK

Book Loving Pixies

We live to read ~ we love to read!!!!

Love Words & Books Blog

Keep Reading, Keep Dreaming...

Rusty's Reading

A place to spotlight books and authors

Rumpled Sheets Blog

#Rumpled_Sheets

Storytime with John

Pull up and listen...I've got a funny one for ya...

jessielanebooks.wordpress.com/

Best-Selling Romance Author

So, I Read This Book Today

Editing, Proofreading, Reviewing and Other Stuff

theinnerwildkat

Passions For Books, Writing and Music-however it manifests itself

Mallery Malone

Romance with a little heat

Just Another Book Bitch

FREEBIES, DEALS, REVIEWS, & PROMTIONS

ALL THINGS ROMANCE

LYNN A REYNOLDS. This site is for those readers 18 years old +.

Living with Cats

Just another WordPress.com weblog

IRC 2014 - Indie Romance Convention

Serving Indie press, Small press and Hybrid press Romance Authors

%d bloggers like this: