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The kiss went on and on, and I knew if one of us didn’t pull back soon, we would end up naked in the middle of my living room. I let the kiss go on just a bit longer, slid my tongue deep into her mouth and pulled her against me until she groaned, and moaned a little when I pulled back. “Hello,” she laughed and shook her head.
“Dinner is just about ready. Hungry?”
“Starved.”
Don’t turn around. I heard the heat in her voice and I knew if I turned around, dinner would burn. Maybe the whole damn house would burn. “Good.” Inside the kitchen, I checked the stuffed meatballs in the oven, along with the vegetables and potato wedges. “Want something to drink? We have a few more…minutes.” What I saw, stole my breath. Instead of my fingers being the instrument that parted the fabric of her dress, Zola’s had. Her full breasts were on display, heavy with hard peaks. Her chest heaved, she looked like a superhero standing there with her hands on her hips.
“I think sometimes, it’s okay to start with desert.”
“I like the way you think.” I smiled and scooped her into my arms, laid her out on the table I was now happy that I didn’t set it earlier. “You’re beautiful, Zola.”
“I’m just me, Drew.” Her brown eyes smiled up at me and then to a spot just behind me. “I brought something for dessert.”
Over my shoulder I spotted the familiar jar that Megan sold at the bakery. “Zola,” I growled and grabbed the jar of caramel, smeared it across her bare sex and feasted on her. I took a seat at the head of the table, as a man should, and feasted on Zola and the caramel, the best thing I’d had in my mouth in years. She squirmed and moaned, shouted her pleasure as she speared her fingers through my hair.
“Drew,” she moaned. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
Those words were like pouring fuel onto the fire. The more noises she made, the harder I became and the louder she was. It was a vicious cycle I had no desire to end too soon.
“Drew.” Her legs trembled, her muscles quivered. Zola was close. “Drew.”
I sucked on her clit until it triggered her orgasm. Her body rolled into me in waves, moans of pleasure left her plump mouth. She was stunning as she fell apart under my mouth, my tongue.
“So. Hot.” Her body went limp and a satisfied smile spread across her face. “I guess you like the dress.”
“I like what’s underneath it even more.” The oven timer sounded and reluctantly, I pushed back from the table and smiled. “Ready to eat?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah. It smells incredible.”
“Wait until you taste it.”
Zola nodded again and I helped her off the table, smiling at the shiver that shook her small frame. “Just let me freshen up and I’ll be right back.”
While Zola freshened up, I pulled out the meatballs, drizzled them in sauce before putting them on a platter with the roasted potatoes, corn on the cob and carrots. It wasn’t the most romantic dinner in the world which was kind of the point.
“Wow. You made this?” She looked up at me like I was something special and I felt my chest puff out a little with pride.
“I did.”
“Impressive.” She eyed the food with as much heat in her gaze as she aimed at me. “He eats and he cooks.”
I took in the sight of her, wearing nothing but my JRMC Jamboree t-shirt, from another hospital fundraiser event, and groaned. Eventually, her words sank in and I laughed. “Funny.”
“Giant meatballs,” she sighed and took a seat, tucking the t-shirt carefully around her thighs. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“About the t-shirt?” I shrugged. “I would have preferred nothing at all. That’s my only problem with it.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes and once again I was grateful to Zola for being so easy to be around. She didn’t need to fill every silence, she could just enjoy it. “Why did you choose to work with kids?” Apparently I felt the need to fill the silence.
Zola chewed and she thought, careful before answering. “Because kids are the lesser of two evils. They want to get better, they don’t lie to their doctor.”
“You’re the only person I’ve ever heard say that about kids.”
She laughed. “Well I grew up in Los Angeles and the kids were brutal, but they were nothing compared to the stuff the adult tabloid journalists wrote about me. I always wanted to work in cardio, but then my surgical round started and that was that,” she smiled and I knew exactly what that smile was about.
“You were hooked.”
“I was. Completely.” She let out a low huff of laughter as if she still couldn’t believe it.
“It doesn’t seem like it should be allowed, what we do. Does it?”
