up the other vegetables.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Tackett got a pot of coffee brewing, set the radio to a local pop station, and then grabbed the green peppers and onions and brought them to the sink to wash. “How do you want these cut, in strips or cubed?”
“Cubed. I expected oldies or classical,” Micah teased, nodding toward the radio. “Not the Black Eyed Peas.”
There was his naughty pup. “And I expect that comment is good for a stripe on your ass, don’t you?” Only partially teasing. “Would you rather listen to something else?”
“No, I like this station and yes, I do believe that is one strike,” Micah said with a sly smile.
Tackett sliced the peppers while Micah peeled and chopped the potatoes. It had been years since he’d prepared a meal with anyone. Many, many years, in fact, since he’d helped his mom. Wow.
“You like to cook?” Tackett asked.
“Mmm hmm. I’m not very good at it, my skills are pretty limited, but when I get the chance, I like it. Joe thinks I’m great but that’s because he’s a lazy bitch who wants me to do all the cooking.”
“Joe?”
“My roommate. We’ve been living together for a couple of years. He’s all right for a straight guy even if he is lazy,” Micah laughed.
The peppers done, Tackett scraped them from the cutting board into a bowl and then grabbed the onion. “Is he in the lifestyle?”
“Joe? Ha, that dude isn’t only straight, but vanilla has nothing on him.” Micah shook his head. “What a boring way to spend your life.”
How the hell had he and Joe come to live together? He couldn’t imagine two more opposite people. “Does he know about you, what you do for a living?”
“Sure. I know what you’re thinking. We are complete opposites, but we’ve also known each other since we were kids. Not close friends or anything like that, but we trust each other. Besides, he works days and I work nights, so we rarely see each other. Where do you keep the pans?”
“The bottom cabinet, next to the stove. The veggies are done, anything else you need me to cut up?”
Micah set a large frying pan on the stove. “No, but if you could get me some butter and point out where you keep the spices, I’d appreciate it.”
Tackett grabbed the butter from the fridge and handed it to Micah. “If by spices you mean salt and pepper, look above the stove.”
“You don’t have spices? If not garlic, maybe some all-season?” Micah sounded a little shocked.
“I told you, I don’t cook, I eat out.”
“This nice big kitchen and you don’t use it.” Micah rolled his eyes. “Such a waste.”
“Since cooking will be your job while you’re here, it won’t go to waste.” He popped Micah on the ass on his way to get a cup of coffee. “Problem solved.”
They found a rhythm, Micah even adding a few impressive dance steps while they moved around the kitchen. Tackett kept a close eye on Micah, but the man seemed genuinely content, whistling and humming to the radio while they finished preparing breakfast. All traces of the angry man from the day before were gone.
“T HAT was amazing,” Tackett praised,
spearing the last bite of eggs from his plate and popping it into his mouth.
“Yeah, I’m stuffed,” Micah agreed, pushing his empty plate away and grabbing his glass of juice. “Okay, I’m washed, brushed, and fed—now about those plans.”
Tackett leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “Nothing like getting right to it, huh?”
“Just following your schedule, Sir.” Micah grinned.
It shouldn’t surprise him Micah wanted to discuss their arrangement, given the events of the day before. It was also good to know he could give Micah more than one task at a time.
“I still have my doubts about your sincerity in wanting to please a Dom, to be his everything. You know all the pretty little moveskeeping your eyes lowered, calling me Sirbut you don’t understand what it means to submit, to set your desires aside and please someone else. I can help
“Yes, Sir.”
Tackett got a pot of coffee brewing, set the radio to a local pop station, and then grabbed the green peppers and onions and brought them to the sink to wash. “How do you want these cut, in strips or cubed?”
“Cubed. I expected oldies or classical,” Micah teased, nodding toward the radio. “Not the Black Eyed Peas.”
There was his naughty pup. “And I expect that comment is good for a stripe on your ass, don’t you?” Only partially teasing. “Would you rather listen to something else?”
“No, I like this station and yes, I do believe that is one strike,” Micah said with a sly smile.
Tackett sliced the peppers while Micah peeled and chopped the potatoes. It had been years since he’d prepared a meal with anyone. Many, many years, in fact, since he’d helped his mom. Wow.
“You like to cook?” Tackett asked.
“Mmm hmm. I’m not very good at it, my skills are pretty limited, but when I get the chance, I like it. Joe thinks I’m great but that’s because he’s a lazy bitch who wants me to do all the cooking.”
“Joe?”
“My roommate. We’ve been living together for a couple of years. He’s all right for a straight guy even if he is lazy,” Micah laughed.
The peppers done, Tackett scraped them from the cutting board into a bowl and then grabbed the onion. “Is he in the lifestyle?”
“Joe? Ha, that dude isn’t only straight, but vanilla has nothing on him.” Micah shook his head. “What a boring way to spend your life.”
How the hell had he and Joe come to live together? He couldn’t imagine two more opposite people. “Does he know about you, what you do for a living?”
“Sure. I know what you’re thinking. We are complete opposites, but we’ve also known each other since we were kids. Not close friends or anything like that, but we trust each other. Besides, he works days and I work nights, so we rarely see each other. Where do you keep the pans?”
“The bottom cabinet, next to the stove. The veggies are done, anything else you need me to cut up?”
Micah set a large frying pan on the stove. “No, but if you could get me some butter and point out where you keep the spices, I’d appreciate it.”
Tackett grabbed the butter from the fridge and handed it to Micah. “If by spices you mean salt and pepper, look above the stove.”
“You don’t have spices? If not garlic, maybe some all-season?” Micah sounded a little shocked.
“I told you, I don’t cook, I eat out.”
“This nice big kitchen and you don’t use it.” Micah rolled his eyes. “Such a waste.”
“Since cooking will be your job while you’re here, it won’t go to waste.” He popped Micah on the ass on his way to get a cup of coffee. “Problem solved.”
They found a rhythm, Micah even adding a few impressive dance steps while they moved around the kitchen. Tackett kept a close eye on Micah, but the man seemed genuinely content, whistling and humming to the radio while they finished preparing breakfast. All traces of the angry man from the day before were gone.
“T HAT was amazing,” Tackett praised,
spearing the last bite of eggs from his plate and popping it into his mouth.
“Yeah, I’m stuffed,” Micah agreed, pushing his empty plate away and grabbing his glass of juice. “Okay, I’m washed, brushed, and fed—now about those plans.”
Tackett leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “Nothing like getting right to it, huh?”
“Just following your schedule, Sir.” Micah grinned.
It shouldn’t surprise him Micah wanted to discuss their arrangement, given the events of the day before. It was also good to know he could give Micah more than one task at a time.
“I still have my doubts about your sincerity in wanting to please a Dom, to be his everything. You know all the pretty little moveskeeping your eyes lowered, calling me Sirbut you don’t understand what it means to submit, to set your desires aside and please someone else. I can help
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