“Something smells good,” I praise as I walk into the kitchen.
I’m dressed in a sundress with the back cut out and a pair of flip flops. My hair swishes around my back effectively tickling me.
I have seen Emilio naked, I have seen him in the throes of passion but seeing him in loose-fitting jeans is something I never thought was sexy. He turns to look at me with his chest bare and a small splattering of hair on it. He doesn’t have any tattoos but his almost-six pack is still sexy.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he replies with a wink.
“Starving…” I’m not lying either. I haven’t had sex in a long time and I’m feeling the exertion of the workout.
Emilio is walking around my kitchen like he owns it. I have lived here for quite a while and have never used the kitchen like he has right now. In fact, I don’t know how old any of those spices are in the cabinets nor did I know I had spices. My idea of eating dinner is usually ordering something through takeout.
“Well, I guess this is one thing I learned about you,” I inform him with a smile. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”
He’s been living with me for a short amount of time and there is no way for me to learn anything of substance about him. I do know he’s amazing in bed… and the shower…
“My mother is from Italy and my father is a pure Greek through and through. I learned how to cook at a young age. My father always told me the way a man cooks is how he makes love. I took that as he meant it.”
My body is heating just thinking about making love to him again. “Well, you do that very well,” I admit. “What else?”
He’s bringing over the two plates with a dirty yet promising smile on his face. “What do you want to know?”
“What do you do for a living?”
