they were here, just like this again, after so long.
“Mmm?” Her eyelashes fluttered against his shoulder.
“I need to straighten you out on something you said earlier. It’s pretty important.” He was smiling as he said it, humor coloring his voice.
“What’s that?” she murmured, stretching long and languidly against him so that a breast just happened to slip into his palm. And he couldn’t ignore that, so he began to gently roll his thumb over the tip of her tightening nipple, smiling more as she shivered delicately against him. “I hope you’re not going to tell me Ricky’s lost interest. I brought him flowers and everything.”
He huffed a laugh and tweaked her so she squeaked in outrage, then kissed the abused nipple with a long, sensual swirl of tongue. He loved the way she sighed when he was touching her, all low and sexy.
“No, and I don’t know why you’d bring my pop into this moment,” he said as he pulled away, and felt her lips curve into a smile when he cuddled her close again. “It’s a little disconcerting.”
“Oh, you’ll get over it,” she said, scratching his chest lightly with her fingernails. It made him want to purr, and for a moment, he just reveled. Then she stopped and said, “Well?”
“Oh, right. So…you don’t put steaks in the oven,” he said.
“What?” She propped up onto an elbow to give him a confused look. Her bourbon-colored hair tumbled over her breasts as she blinked matching eyes in confusion.
“What, meaning—what do you mean you don’t put steaks in the oven; I thought that’s how you cook them? Or what, meaning—what did I say, because you were so overcome with lust that you didn’t hear me?”
She chuckled, then sobered. “Steaks don’t go in the oven? Really? And why did you bring that up, anyway?”
“No, sweetheart, they don’t go in the oven. They go on the grill, or on a broiler—”
“But isn’t a broiler in the oven?”
“Technically it is—”
“Ah-ha!” She poked him in the belly. “So technically I was right.”
“Technically, yes—but when you say ‘in the oven,’ that implies something else—like baking or roasting. Like, you put bread in the oven, or a cake, or a roasting chicken, or meatloaf, but not steak. Never a steak. You’ll ruin it.” He couldn’t control a little shudder, thinking of the two-inch-thick filets he had waiting for them if they ever dragged themselves out of bed.
The sunset he’d promised her was long over with, and he’d been ignoring hunger pangs for quite a while in favor of other, more interesting pangs.
“And when did I say anything about putting a steak in the oven, anyway? I’d never say something like that. You know I’m allergic to cooking.”
“Earlier today, when you were engineering our escape from Maxine and my pop. You said something about putting the steaks in the oven, and I thought I’d do a little PSA just in case you got motivated to get up and start dinner in order to refuel me so I have the energy to jump your bones again. You wore me out, VL,” he said as she shook with silent laughter against him. “I’m going to need sustenance before I—”
He closed his mouth when she curled her fingers around his cock, which had been relaxed and basking until the idea of jumping bones had come up.
“What were you saying?” she said, her voice muffled as she slipped down beneath the sheets.
“I have no idea,” he said as she closed those luscious lips around him. “And…I don’t…care.”
It was the blackest part of night when the steaks finally made their way onto the grill. A swath of glittering stars danced above them and out over the dark blue Great Lake. The moon was high and sliced in half, but it cast a fair amount of blue-silver glow. The world was so quiet in the earliest hours of Sunday morning that Vivien could even hear the waves washing up on shore in the distance.
An owl hooted, and frogs and cicadas croaked and buzz-zapped in competing rhythm as a few bats swooped gracefully below the stars. The smell of summer and lake and the faintest tinge of a distant bonfire lingered in the air, and a gentle breeze made Vivien almost need a sweater.
“This is the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” she said, sighing with delight as she tasted the filet for the first time. “Red wine, steak, baked potatoes slathered with sour cream and chives, and fresh Michigan corn on the cob…