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Once I was dressed in my typical weekend uniform, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and looked around for something to keep me occupied.
I decided it wouldn’t be intrusive to make some coffee. I set it up and glanced in his fridge.
He hadoutstandingingredients on hand and before I realized what I was doing, I ransacked his kitchen for the right utensils and pans.
“Bitch, you can atleastmake the man food for those orgasms.”
So true.
I was whipping eggs when he appeared downstairs in nothing but basketball shorts.
“Good morning, Petra.” Looking at the chopped veggies, bacon, and cheese, he grinned. “You’ve been busy.”
“Do you mind?” I shifted my weight to the other foot. “I figured you’d be starving.”
He walked around his island and took the bowl from my hands. Setting it gently on the counter, he pulled me close and laid a kiss on me that made me moan.
A long while later, he lifted away to say, “I am. You didn’t have to do all this. I wanted to take you to brunch.”
I snorted. “My food is better. Trust.”
“Don’t you dare give me another reason to worship you.” He tilted his head. “I thought…with the yogurt.”
“Oh. Icanmake my own but Mom making it means it’s naturally got this extrasomething.” I shrugged. “I love to cook.” Gesturing to the ingredients, I added, “I figured you cooked to have all this.”
“My housekeeper. She preps stuff for the week and I reheat.”
“Then I think you’ll like this.” I crossed my eyes. “We need sustenance. Specifically, protein. Damn.”
He laughed and I moved around him to return to whipping eggs. Pouring them in the pan, I added the other bowls of diced ingredients, sprinkled more cheese over the top, and seasoned everything with a mysterious blend I found that smelled delectable.
Sliding it into the oven, I set the timer and turned around in time for him to press me to the refrigerator.
“You look even better in casual clothes.”
His mouth trailed up my neck and made me immediately breathless. He smelled so good…
I wanted to eat him up.
Turning us, I knelt on his kitchen floor, pulled down his shorts, and thanked him for two bouts of explosive orgasms by taking him to the back of my throat.
The sound he made sent chills all over my body. I took my time, used every skill I learned from having a gay man for a best friend, and took him apart one suck, one lick, at a time.
His legs shook and he locked them out. His breathing was ragged in the quiet kitchen.
When he was close, I focused on his face while he panted through parted lips and stared right back at me.
I swallowed everything he gave me, cleaned him up, and settled his shorts in place before standing.
The timer sounded and I grinned. “Food.”
He didn’t move as I washed my hands, took the frittata from the oven, and found plates.
I cut us slices and poured us cups of coffee. I set everything at the bar and watched him snap out of the trance he’d been in since I sucked every drop of come he managed to produce in the hours we’d been sleeping.
“You’re incredible.”
He said the words in awe and it made mefeelincredible. Sitting beside me on a barstool, he dropped a kiss on me before cutting into his food.
