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“No, everything’s fine here.” Gayle covered the phone with her hand and whispered to Rikard, “My safety call.”
“Take the call. I have to prepare the next course, anyway,” he murmured.
Deftly, he slid out from beneath her. He cleared the table of the salad plates and forks, and carried them to the sink. She heard the clink of plates and a rush of water, followed by the throaty whoosh of a gas range, and the soft opening and closing of kitchen cabinets.
“Gayle?” Carrie asked. “You sound kind of funny. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I have just had the most amazing orgasm of my life,” Gayle whispered.
There was a moment of silence. “I thought you were having lunch.”
“We are. The orgasm came after the strawberry salad. It was to die for.” She turned and looked over her shoulder into the kitchen. Rikard was spraying oil onto a griddle pan. He’d taken the cover off the platter he’d placed on the counter earlier, revealing two red slabs of meat, liberally coated with seasonings. “I think we’re having steak for the entrée.”
“You had sex right there among the salad plates?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“You did it on the floor? Up against the wall?”
“On a kitchen chair, actually.”
“Gayle, honey, are you listening to yourself? You aren’t a ‘sex on the first date’ kind of girl.”
“Technically, this is our second date.”
“And you slept with him less than an hour into it! The man is messing with your head somehow. Maybe calling him a Svengali wasn’t so far off the mark.”
Vigorous sizzles came from the kitchen, along with a heavenly aroma blending Asian spices and seafood. Gayle moaned, her mouth watering, and closed her eyes to better focus on the delicious smell.
“Good grief! Is he touching you now?” Carrie demanded.
“No. He just put the steaks on the grill. I think they’re tuna steaks. They smell so good.”
Rikard called, “Two minutes.”
“I’ve got to go. The food’s almost done.”
“I’ll call you back in an hour.”
“There’s no need. I’ll be fine with him.”
“Uh-huh. Then you won’t mind me calling back in an hour.”
“Okay, but if I don’t answer right away, it’s not because something’s wrong. It’s because we’re having incredibly hot sex and I don’t want to stop to answer the damned phone.”
“Hey, you asked me to do this for you. Don’t get all snotty with me just because I’m doing what you asked me to.”
“Oh, Carrie, I’m sorry. I know, you’re just trying to help. But that’s what I’m telling you. I don’t need your help on this anymore.”
“Humor me. Okay?”
“You’re wasting your time. But if it’ll make you feel better, fine. Call back in an hour. I have to go now. Lunch is almost ready.”
“All right. But tonight, after you get home, you’re giving me the whole story about what went on during this date.”
“Deal.”
Gayle closed the phone and stuffed it back into her purse. She hadn’t realized Carrie was such a worrywart.
