odd fluttery chill teased the back of her neck and she tried to imagine what it must be like to exist in such a vacuum of superficiality.
“If that’s what real, then I want to hear some of it from you. We can both be professional in the kitchen for a while. I’ll be a chef cooking dinner and you can be a musician”—she waved her hands as words escaped her—“providing ambience. There’s a guitar in the cupboard directly opposite ‘our’ mirror.”
Without waiting for a reply, she headed for the rear of the house, stifling a yawn as she contemplated dinner. A note hung at a jaunty angle from her kitchen door and she damn near collapsed with relief as she read Brad’s message. Kept one container for the delivery girl. Enjoy!
She kicked her shoes off, selected a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat down while the oven preheated.
…
The fabulous smell of lamb kofta filled the kitchen. Beth was surprised to find herself hunched over the bench with her head resting on her folded arms. She sat upright and looked around.
“Good timing,” Jake said. “Here, put this on.” He wrapped one of her mother’s emboidered tablecloths around her shoulders like a cape at the hairdresser’s.
“What’s this for?”
His smiling face appeared in front of hers. “Dinner. You don’t want to get food on your dress, do you?”
“No, but I’m not thrilled about wearing a straitjacket either.”
“Have a little faith. Close your eyes.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m a little light-headed and this seat has no back.”
He moved, his body supporting hers from behind. His arms wrapped around her to provide extra security. “Close them.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and obeyed, the waft of her favorite wine beneath her nose making her feel strangely breathless. It was as if she was floating above the world in a warm cocoon of familiarity. Jake stirred against her lower back and a low moan climbed her throat. He’d mentioned paradise yesterday, and clearly she’d arrived.
“What do you think?”
“Hmm? About what?”
“The ambience,” he said.
I could stay here forever. Catching herself before she said those words aloud, she reached for sarcasm instead. “Well, the straitjacket and strong-arm tactics are winners for sure, but promising alcohol then not delivering might be a tad excessive.”
The rim of a wineglass made contact with her lower lip as she spoke and he chuckled. “Ready?”
He must’ve taken her surprised squeak as a yes because the wineglass tipped. The tiniest trickle of wine landed on her tongue and it had never tasted so good. The weird combination of comfort and deprivation had her entire body fizzing with expectation.
Being semi-helpless intensified the joy of being in Jake’s arms, and her imagination was having a field day with the idea of trusting him to give her little doses of blind pleasure.
“More please.”
“Wine?”
She nodded. “More everything.”
The wine was delicious, and the awkward method of drinking added to the experience. Jake pushed her hair forward over one shoulder and nuzzled the soft skin below her other ear. A rush of heat between her thighs confirmed where this was going, and she relaxed as Jake moved against her back.
“Time to change venue?”
“To the dining room?” His tone was the epitome of innocence.
“I’d rather eat here.”
She arched forward, needing Jake’s hands to slide beneath her makeshift cape far more than she needed alcohol. “Enough wine. What else have you got?”
“Lamb kofta.”
What? “I thought—”
One arm tightened around her, tablecloth and all, in a fierce hug, and she heard the wineglass clink against the stainless steel counter a moment before his other arm completed the embrace.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want every memory you have of me to be one where I’m taking something from you.”
“Like when? What did you take?”
“Your freedom, your right
“If that’s what real, then I want to hear some of it from you. We can both be professional in the kitchen for a while. I’ll be a chef cooking dinner and you can be a musician”—she waved her hands as words escaped her—“providing ambience. There’s a guitar in the cupboard directly opposite ‘our’ mirror.”
Without waiting for a reply, she headed for the rear of the house, stifling a yawn as she contemplated dinner. A note hung at a jaunty angle from her kitchen door and she damn near collapsed with relief as she read Brad’s message. Kept one container for the delivery girl. Enjoy!
She kicked her shoes off, selected a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat down while the oven preheated.
…
The fabulous smell of lamb kofta filled the kitchen. Beth was surprised to find herself hunched over the bench with her head resting on her folded arms. She sat upright and looked around.
“Good timing,” Jake said. “Here, put this on.” He wrapped one of her mother’s emboidered tablecloths around her shoulders like a cape at the hairdresser’s.
“What’s this for?”
His smiling face appeared in front of hers. “Dinner. You don’t want to get food on your dress, do you?”
“No, but I’m not thrilled about wearing a straitjacket either.”
“Have a little faith. Close your eyes.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m a little light-headed and this seat has no back.”
He moved, his body supporting hers from behind. His arms wrapped around her to provide extra security. “Close them.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and obeyed, the waft of her favorite wine beneath her nose making her feel strangely breathless. It was as if she was floating above the world in a warm cocoon of familiarity. Jake stirred against her lower back and a low moan climbed her throat. He’d mentioned paradise yesterday, and clearly she’d arrived.
“What do you think?”
“Hmm? About what?”
“The ambience,” he said.
I could stay here forever. Catching herself before she said those words aloud, she reached for sarcasm instead. “Well, the straitjacket and strong-arm tactics are winners for sure, but promising alcohol then not delivering might be a tad excessive.”
The rim of a wineglass made contact with her lower lip as she spoke and he chuckled. “Ready?”
He must’ve taken her surprised squeak as a yes because the wineglass tipped. The tiniest trickle of wine landed on her tongue and it had never tasted so good. The weird combination of comfort and deprivation had her entire body fizzing with expectation.
Being semi-helpless intensified the joy of being in Jake’s arms, and her imagination was having a field day with the idea of trusting him to give her little doses of blind pleasure.
“More please.”
“Wine?”
She nodded. “More everything.”
The wine was delicious, and the awkward method of drinking added to the experience. Jake pushed her hair forward over one shoulder and nuzzled the soft skin below her other ear. A rush of heat between her thighs confirmed where this was going, and she relaxed as Jake moved against her back.
“Time to change venue?”
“To the dining room?” His tone was the epitome of innocence.
“I’d rather eat here.”
She arched forward, needing Jake’s hands to slide beneath her makeshift cape far more than she needed alcohol. “Enough wine. What else have you got?”
“Lamb kofta.”
What? “I thought—”
One arm tightened around her, tablecloth and all, in a fierce hug, and she heard the wineglass clink against the stainless steel counter a moment before his other arm completed the embrace.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want every memory you have of me to be one where I’m taking something from you.”
“Like when? What did you take?”
“Your freedom, your right
Similar Books
