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“Finding something to whip up for breakfast.”
The only thing that comes to mind is the time he tried to cook eggs one morning when my parents were out of town, and they were burnt to the skillet. He wanted us to eat them and there was no damn way.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Why don’t I just go pick something up?” I say, getting off the couch.
“Sit down, Ange. I can cook now. Your house isn’t going to get burned down or anything.”
I love his vote of confidence, but I’m still on the fence. It’s my day off and don’t feel like putting out any fires.
When I walk into the kitchen, he has eggs in a one skillet and bacon in the other. I eye the burner to see what he’s got them on, low. So, maybe he has learned a thing or two in his adulthood. Just another thing for me to like about him. I can cook, but nothing fancy. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter, since I figured I would be single for the rest of my life.
My thumb is in between my teeth and I’m just staring at him. Stefan Valentino is in my kitchen with no shirt, just grey sweatpants cooking me breakfast. Does it get much better than this?
I keep my mouth shut, trying to give him the space to finish, but still admiring. He keeps looking over at me and rolling his eyes.
“I don’t need a babysitter. Go sit down, it’s almost done.”
He shoos me away, and I oblige, taking my seat back on the couch watching the news. Maybe I just want to admire the view of his morning wood in his sweatpants and that magnificent ass of his. I could take care of him, if he would just let me.
I hear the burners turn off and two plates being grabbed out of the cabinet. He successfully cooked breakfast without starting a fire, I’m so proud.
“Food is served,” he says, setting two plates onto the coffee table and then taking a seat next to me again.
My mind isn’t on food at all. How is he walking around with a boner? That has to hurt, right? I know he said that last night was the last time, but technically he hasn’t left yet, so...
I get on my knees.
“What are you doing?” he says, his hands going up in the air.
“Just let me take care of you, Stefan. I can’t eat while your hard as a rock next to me.”
He laughs, and his eye twitches. “I’ve never met a girl like you, Ange. So willing to take care of me, even if it means nothing for yourself. I admire that.”
His hands go behind his bed, and he inches off the couch for me to let his cock out of its cage. When it springs free, I nearly come on the spot. He’s so big.
I push him down long ways on the couch and rest my pussy right above his face. “This seems like a better idea. Tit for tat, yeah. If you want to come, then you have to make me.”
I’m usually not this forceful or dominant, but fuck do I want to just everything I can get before this man leaves back to Dallas. I need my fucking fix now.
His hands go around my ass, holding me in place as his tongue circles my clit, and I put him into my mouth. My hand closes around his circumference and works in a rhythm with my mouth until he starts groaning.
“We need to hurry up before our food gets cold,” I say, before putting him back in my mouth and picking up my speed. He gets harder and harder and his groans become more frequent.
“Make me come, Stefan. Please. I need you.”
With just those words, he sucks on my clit and puts two fingers inside me. Fuck! It throws me over the edge, and I go all the way down on his cock until he explodes into my mouth. I arch my back and let the orgasm writhe through me.
“Don’t you feel better now? Let’s eat.”
There is no point is lolly gagging around the subject, but I wasn’t giving up the opportunity for him to touch me one last time before he goes.
I sit up on the couch and pick up my plate, putting a bite of eggs into my mouth. He just stares at me for a second before he picks up his.
“What the hell have you done with Angela fucking Haddon? This is not the girl I used to know. And now I’m really regretting being friends with Hendrix.”
I smile without looking his way and continue to eat.
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.
