Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,57
ballsy…or maybe he’s crazy. Now, there’s a possibility I didn’t even consider.
“I’m sorry…was last night a one-time thing? If it is, that’s cool, but I’d like to know.” He threw his apron on the counter as he stalked toward me. The corners of his lips turned up into a sexy smile. “Hey, why the serious face?”
I chewed my cheek, wondering the same thing, but decided to table that thought. “Just figuring out some things. I don’t know what this is, as it was just a few hours ago that it became a ‘this’ type of thing.” I needed to change the subject. I’d begun to flub big-time, and sounded like a fucking pansy. “Let’s eat. It smells delicious.”
We ate our stuffed veal chops and vegetable medley while overlooking the pool. The night air felt hot and thick on my skin, and it didn’t help that my cock was hard all through the meal. I watched carefully as his lips closed around the fork, his throat swallowing the food, and the sigh that followed. I’m surprised I was able to concentrate on a simple conversation.
“So, any family?” It was a nosy question, but I was a nosy motherfucker. I had to be.
He took a long sip of his chardonnay before answering. “Some family back in New York, but we don’t speak,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow, and I desperately wanted to do that for him. Thoughts of wiping random things from his body using my tongue entered my mind, and I had to shake them loose in order to keep up with the conversation.
“That’s too bad. I don’t have any real family except for what you see around here. But I’m thankful for what I have,” I stated, even though he didn’t ask. There was some discomfort to his answer, and I wanted to steer the conversation into more mellow waters. “So, how did you become a chef to the stars?” I asked curiously. I mean, who didn’t love a hot man who could cook. Sign me up for some of that goodness.
He took a sip of wine before answering. “My mother enjoyed cooking. I guess she loved just being around the kitchen. I started helping, asking questions, tasting new recipes…and it helps I love food. I find joy in it. To me, nothing says love more than preparing a nice meal for someone you care for. The caveat is the smile of appreciation on their face. It’s…golden. As a kid, my best memories were of rounding the corner to the smell of my mother’s cooking.”
Holy shit. All that, and he has a heart. Can it be? Could anyone be this lucky? “Well, someone needs to thank her. You’re exceptional…”
“I should clean up. It’s getting late,” he said, standing from the table abruptly.
Not happening. I wasn’t about to let him leave.
“No…no…no. You cooked. The least I could do is clean up,” I said, grabbing his plate. Yeah, fucking right. When in this lifetime have I ever cleaned up? Then again, when was the last time I had a cock like that in my mouth? Life was all about timing. I preached this shit to the girls endlessly, and never listened to my own words. I would seize this moment and freeze it for as long as possible…keeping him in a state of sexual bliss. He’d have no other alternative but to seek me out. Simply, people loved to get off, and if they found someone who was proficient at it—game over. This night would not end anytime soon if I had anything to do with it. If I had to be Cinder-fucking-ella, then so be it.
I took the decanter and placed it on the table closest to the pool’s entrance. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Sit and relax.”
He nodded, leaving his napkin behind and walking to the far table next to the pool. I watched his legs eat up the pool deck in long, powerful strides. He had a handsome face with defined features. Dark hair with a spattering of silver gave him a mature look, but still fuck-hot. By the tone of his skin and features, I suspected Greek. However, I wasn’t going to busy up the evening with any more probing questions. I scraped the plates into the garbage disposal and them left them in the sink. I’d come back to that at some point…or not.
I peeked out the slider and noticed his shoes were off. Good. He made himself comfortable. I hoped his clothes