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A Special Dinner — Scott & Sofie

Scott flipped through the catering proposal, pausing at another photograph of a perfectly arranged plate.

Everything looked carefully placed. The portions were small, the sauce was brushed neatly across the plate, and the desserts looked almost too pretty to touch.

It looked expensive—the kind of food that looked impressive for a few seconds before you actually tasted it.

He had seen enough of that.

This wasn't the gathering where people simply ate and went home.

The guests would notice everything—the food, the service, the smallest details—and remember them long after the evening was over.

Scott wasn't looking for a menu that sounded impressive on paper. He wanted someone who knew what they were doing in the kitchen.

Scott closed the last proposal and reached for his phone.

Vanessa was the first person he thought of.

She was always sending him pictures of food—new restaurants, dishes she'd tried, sometimes a place she'd dragged him to because she was sure he'd like it.

Then, the next morning, she'd be at the gym like she hadn't eaten half the menu the night before.

If Vanessa recommended a chef, Scott knew she'd actually tasted the food herself.

Scott had known her since S-University, where she had been a year behind him, and they had stayed close ever since.

He called her.

She picked up after a few rings.

"Scott?"

"Hey. You busy?"

"With you calling this early? Apparently not."

He smiled. "I need a favor."

"Scott? It's early. What did you need?"

He smiled. "Nothing. I need a chef."

"That's disappointing. I was hoping for something more interesting."

"I have a dinner coming up. Important. I need someone good."

Vanessa was quiet for a moment.

"I know someone."

Scott leaned back. "Go on."

"Sofie. She opened her own restaurant a few months ago. It's small, but the food is seriously good."

"How do you know her?"

"I've eaten there," Vanessa said, then added with a little pride, "twice."

"Twice?"

"You know me. I don't go back unless I like the food."

Scott laughed. "So what did you think?"

"She can cook, Scott. I'm serious. I've been telling you to try the place for weeks."

"What's the name?"

Vanessa gave it to him.

Scott picked up his keys.

"I'll check it out."

"Of course you will."

"What?"

"Nothing." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Go judge someone's food in person. It's what you do."

Scott hung up, still smiling.

Then he headed for the restaurant.

The restaurant was small and clean. Only a few tables were occupied, but the smell coming from the kitchen made Scott slow down as soon as he stepped inside.

Garlic, butter, something smoky, and a fresh herb he couldn't quite place. He took another breath, letting the smell settle before he looked around.

The food already had his attention.

A moment later, Sofie came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her dark hair was tied back, and a few loose strands framed her face.

She looked at Scott.

"Table for one?"

"No, I'm actually here to see Sofie."

"That's me."

She set the towel over one shoulder. "What can I do for you?"

He introduced himself and explained that he was looking for a chef for an upcoming private event. The food needed to be exceptional, and he wanted to make sure he had the right person before he made any arrangements.

Sofie listened without interrupting.

"So you want me to handle the food?"

"I wanted to meet you first and see what you can do."

Sofie looked at him for a moment, then a small smile touched her lips.

"Give me a minute."

She handed the towel to someone passing by and headed back into the kitchen.

Over the next hour, Sofie brought out one dish after another.

The flavors were clean, balanced, and confident. Nothing was overloaded or dressed up just for show. Every dish had a reason to be there, and Scott found himself taking his time with each one.

At some point, he stopped looking at the plates and started watching Sofie instead.

She noticed.

The corner of her mouth lifted, as if she was trying not to smile.

Sofie leaned against the counter.

"So?"

Scott glanced at the empty plates. "Vanessa was right about you."

"Which Vanessa?"

"From S-University. She said your food was worth trying."

Sofie thought for a moment, then smiled. "The fitness coach?"

"Sounds like her."

"She liked the place enough to come back."

Scott glanced at the empty plates. "She wasn't wrong."

Sofie smiled.

Scott handed her his card. "Call me tomorrow. We'll discuss the details."

Their fingers brushed as she took it.

"Tomorrow?"

"I'll be waiting."

Over the next two weeks, Scott found more reasons to stop by the restaurant.

At first, it was to discuss the menu.

Then it was to check a sauce, change a dish, or ask about something that could have easily waited until tomorrow.

One evening, Sofie placed a small plate in front of him without a word.

Scott looked at it. "What's this?"

"Nothing."

"You made it for me."

"I needed another opinion."

"You've already made it three times."

Sofie tried to hide her smile. "And you keep eating it."

He did.

Their meetings started running longer. A discussion about the menu could turn into coffee, then another half hour of talking about everything except the event.

Scott learned that Sofie wanted her own name on more than one restaurant someday. She learned that he hated last-minute changes, except when she was the one making them.

"You know you don't have to check everything yourself," she told him one night.

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

Scott looked at her over his coffee.

"Good question."

She smiled and looked away.

By the time the event arrived, they had stopped pretending every visit was about the food.

Then the night of the dinner finally arrived.

By seven that evening, the guests started to arrive for Scott's private dinner.

Servers moved between the tables with glasses of wine while staff made the final checks. In the kitchen, Sofie had already taken her place at the pass.

"Table four, two starters!"

She checked each plate before it left the kitchen, fixing a sauce here, adjusting a garnish there. The orders kept coming, but she never rushed a plate just to keep up.

Scott moved through the dining room, greeting guests and making sure everything was running smoothly.

Whenever he passed the kitchen, though, his eyes found Sofie.

During a brief lull, he stepped inside and found her alone near the pass. Her cheeks were warm from the heat, a few strands of hair had come loose, and there was a faint smear of sauce near her wrist.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," he said.

She looked up and smiled. "I am."

"You look like you're having fun," Scott said.

Sofie glanced at him. "I am."

"Good. I was worried you'd blame me for keeping you this busy."

"You're not that important."

Scott smiled. "That's not what you said last night."

She gave him a look, trying not to laugh.

A server called her name from the other side of the kitchen.

"Go. Guests are waiting."

"Let them."

Sofie glanced toward the pass. "Stop distracting me."

Scott smiled. "Fine."

She turned back to the Kitchen, but Scott caught the smile she was trying to hide before he stepped away.

---

When the last guest finally left, the restaurant seemed to exhale.

The staff moved quietly in the background, clearing glasses and wiping down tables. Sofie was still at the pass, leaning against it for a moment with her eyes closed.

Scott watched her.

"You ate tonight, right?"

"You've barely eaten tonight."

"I've been busy."

"I noticed."

She looked at him, a tired smile forming. "You were watching me that closely?"

"More than I should have. I've been watching you all night."

That made her look at him for a second longer.

"Have you?"

Scott smiled. "Among other things."

She shook her head, but the smile stayed.

They settled at a corner table still covered with a white cloth. Sofie brought out a few leftover dishes, setting them between them before finally sitting down herself.

For the first time that night, neither of them had to rush anywhere.

They talked about the restaurant, her plans for the future, and the partnership that had helped her get it off the ground. Scott told her why the dinner had mattered and what he had been trying to accomplish.

Somewhere between the second glass and the empty plates, the conversation became less about restaurants and business.

Sofie rested her chin on her hand. "So, do you always interview chefs over dinner?"

"Only the ones Vanessa recommends."

"That's a terrible excuse."

"It worked."

She smiled. "Apparently."

Neither of them looked in a hurry to leave.

Sofie set her fork down and met his eyes.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

Scott smiled faintly. "Because I like being here with you."

She held his gaze, her expression softening.

"I know."

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Scott reached across the table and ran his thumb lightly over the back of her hand. Sofie turned her palm beneath his and slipped her fingers between his.

He stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

When he leaned in, she met him halfway.

The kiss was gentle at first, almost careful. Then Sofie moved closer, her hand settling against his chest as his fingers slipped into her hair.

When they finally pulled apart, neither of them spoke.

Sofie looked at him, her breathing a little uneven.

"Upstairs."

She gave him a small smile.

"My apartment's above the restaurant."

They barely made it through the door before Scott kicked it shut behind them.

Sofie ended up against the wall, the narrow hallway leaving them barely any room between them. Scott kissed her again, this time with less restraint.

He bit her lip, then pushed his tongue deep inside like he was starving for her. Sofie drew in a sharp breath and opened her mouth to him.

Scott deepened the kiss, his movements rougher now, until she felt the strain in her jaw and her pulse racing in her throat.

One hand shoved under her chef's jacket with no hesitation; his fingers slid greedy and hot over her bare skin. He dragged his palm up her ribs, rough and impatient, until the heel of his hand pressed hard under the swell of her breast.

She felt the heat of him everywhere—his mouth, his hand, the solid press of his body pinning her to the wall.

Sofie let out a small broken sound into his mouth. "Fuck—"

She caught the front of her chef jacket and helped him pull it off; his white Shirt followed a moment later, landing beside them.

The bra came undone with the same impatient ease he seemed to bring to everything.

Her tits spilled free, and his hands were on them instantly—rough palms filling, thumbs scraping over tight nipples until they ached.

Scott leaned in, sucking along her throat before lingering just above her collarbone. His teeth grazed her skin, leaving a faint mark behind.

She arched against him, a shaky breath catching in her throat. Her fingers tightened around his shoulders as she tried to steady herself.

"Scott…"

Her voice came out softer than she intended.

He didn't stop.

He murmured against her skin and pinched both nipples at once, rolling them between rough fingers until her hips jerked forward, seeking friction that wasn't there yet.

They were too close, and neither of them seemed willing to step back. Her bare back stuck to the wall while his breath warmed the fresh mark on her skin.

She pulled him closer.

"Fuck me, Scott—"

He turned her, walked her backward toward the bedroom without breaking contact. Behind them, clothes were left scattered across the floor, one piece after another. By the time the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she was naked, and his cock already hard and pressing against the fabric of his pants.

Scott guided her onto the bed and followed her down, settling between her thighs. He kissed down her stomach, biting lightly at the soft skin of her hip.

Sofie's fingers threaded into his hair when he finally put his mouth on her cunt.

He licked her slowly at first—broad strokes of his tongue over her clit, tasting her wetness. Then his two fingers slid inside her while he sucked, curling, finding the spot that made her thighs tighten around his head.

Sofie cursed, her hips rolling up against his mouth.

"Don't stop—fuck, right there—"

He didn't.

He ate her until she came with a broken moan, cunt clenching around his fingers, wetness coating his chin. Scott kept licking her through it, softer, until she tugged his hair hard enough to pull him up.

Sofie pulled his cock out, thick and already leaking. She wrapped her hand around it, stroked once, twice, then guided him to her entrance.

Scott pushed in slowly.

Both of them groaned.

She was tight and still fluttering from the orgasm. He paused for a moment, breathing hard as they held each other close.

"Okay?" he asked.

Sofie nodded, nails digging into his shoulders. "Move."

He did.

Deep, steady thrusts that made the bed creak. Sofie met every stroke, legs locked around his waist, matching his movement and pulling him nearer. Scott fucked her like he'd been thinking about it for weeks—controlled at first, then less so.

He hooked one of her legs higher, changing the angle so every thrust dragged over that spot inside her. Her second orgasm hit harder as she came with a sharp cry, cunt squeezing him so tight he had to grit his teeth not to follow.

He pulled out before he came. Then he flipped Sofie onto her stomach and yanked her hips up high. She went with it, arching her back and pushing herself toward him.

Scott slammed back inside her from behind, and the sound she made was pure filth.

He fucked her harder now.

One hand on her hip, the other reaching around to rub her clit in tight circles. The wet slap of their bodies filled the room. Sofie pushed back to meet him, hair a mess across the sheets, moaning into the pillow every time he bottomed out.

"Harder," she gasped. "Scott—fuck me harder—"

He gave her everything.

When she came again, it was messy—shaking, dripping around his cock, voice breaking on his name. Scott pulled out, flipped her again, and shoved back in.

He wanted to see her face when he finished.

Sofie wrapped her legs around him, pulled him down so their chests pressed together. He is buried in her deepest part, glued against her on every stroke.

He came hard, planting his prick in her to the hilt and spilling inside with a low, rough squeak. Sofie's cunt milking every pulse.

They stayed locked together while the aftershocks faded.

Sweat cooling on skin.

Hearts slamming.

Scott eventually rolled to the side, pulling her with him so she ended up half on his chest. Sofie traced lazy patterns on his skin with one fingertip.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

---

Morning light slipped through the blinds.

Scott woke first. Sofie was still asleep against his shoulder, one leg tangled with his. A red mark remained near her collarbone from the night before.

He brushed her lips with his thumb.

She stirred, blinked up at him, and smiled sleepily. "Morning."

"Morning." His voice was rough from sleep. He looked at her for a moment before adding, "I'm starting to think I should organize another event."

Sofie gave him a suspicious look. "Another one already?"

"I have a reputation to maintain. The last dinner went well, but I think the menu could use a little more work."

She laughed, resting her head against his shoulder again. "The menu was fine. You just want another excuse to come here."

Scott smiled. "Can you blame me?"

She lifted her head and kissed him, then settled back against him with a satisfied little smile.

"Fine," she murmured. "Call me when you have another event."

"I will."

"And Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Give me some warning next time. I might actually need to plan for you."

He laughed and pulled her closer.

Downstairs, the restaurant would eventually need both of them. For now, neither seemed interested in being the first to leave the bed.

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