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I sipped my wine. “Thanks. I’m totally bluffing it. I have no idea how to raise a teenager.”
“You’d never know it.”
“My mom always said good parenting was spending half the amount of money you think you should and double the amount of free time you have with your kids. Lucky for Izzy, I’m always broke and have no life.”
Hunter chuckled and turned his attention back to the stove. He lifted the pan off the flame and flicked his wrist a few times to stir dinner before setting it down again. Then he lowered the heat to a simmer and came to lean across the other side of the island from me with his wine in hand.
“So what are your limits?”
I sipped. “My limits?”
“In bed. What’s a no for you?”
I was mid-swallow of my wine, and the casual way he’d asked the question caught me so off guard that I gulped it down the wrong pipe. I sputtered and coughed.
“You okay?”
I nodded and put my hand up while catching my breath. My voice was strained when I could finally speak. “Stop doing that to me. Who talks like that?”
“What?”
“You just asked about my sexual limits so casually, like you were asking if I wanted a glass of water.”
“How would you have liked me to ask?”
“I don’t know. Maybe less business and more personal, perhaps.”
He nodded. “Okay. I can do that.” Reaching across the counter, he took my hands into his. “Sweet pea, you have a mighty fine ass. What are your thoughts on my tapping that?”
I felt my face shade pink, and a knowing grin spread across his.
“You’re a jerk.”
“Pretty sure that’s not news to you.”
A crackle popped from the pan on the stove, forcing Hunter’s attention back to heating dinner. I watched him move around the kitchen with grace as he plated two meals and cut up a loaf of semolina bread. Though there was a dining room table, without discussing it, we ate in the kitchen on the island across from one another. It reminded me of hanging out and enjoying a meal with a friend, rather than forcing the formality of eating in the dining room. I liked that he just went with the flow. Garrett would never have eaten in the kitchen.
“This is really good,” I said. “Did you make the cream sauce yourself?”
“I did. Thank you.”
Hunter forked pasta and chicken, and I couldn’t help watching the way his throat worked to swallow the food. The masculine bob of his Adam’s apple was hypnotic. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to watch him undress if the sight of his neck did this to me.
As we ate, I quietly deliberated saying something. I had no doubt Hunter and I would have great sex, but if I was open with him, the way he was with me, things could only be better. So, deciding to push my embarrassment to the side, I opened up.
“I’ve never had anal sex.”
A slow smile spread across his face. He tore a piece of bread in half and dipped it around in the sauce on his plate. “Opposed to it?”
“I’m not sure opposed to it is the right term. Terrified might fit better.”
He chuckled. “Okay. Good to know. We’ll save that for when you learn to trust me in bed. How about oral?”
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. “Giving or receiving?”
“Both.”
“I enjoy both.”
