The doorbell rang. Godfrey raced to the door, barking.
"Shhh. Go to your place, Godfrey." I looked through the bay window to see Scott, grocery bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. I opened the door.
"Peace offering?" He smiled, and as much as I didn't want to deal with him tonight, I let him in. A free gourmet meal is hard to pass up, I don't care who you are. I stepped aside so he could pass. Godfrey whined from his bed in the kitchen.
"Godfrey, I have something special for you."
Godfrey whined louder. He wouldn't move from his place until I gave him the okay. I made him wait until we were in the kitchen.
"All right, Godfrey. Come here." Scott handed me a boneless rib eye. "Is this for him? Really?"
"Nothing but the best for my buddy."
"What are we having?"
"Filet mignon with a balsamic reduction, fresh green beans, roasted red potatoes, and this." He handed me the wine.
"Rubus Cabernet 2007? What's the occasion?" I never spend more than ten bucks for wine. Scotch is a different story all together. And don't get me started on my tea purchases.
"It's a peace offering, remember? I didn't like how we left things the other day, and I know how much you love red wine, so I went to Spirit World and picked up a few bottles. Why don't you get that opened while I start on dinner?"
I have a short list of what makes a man sexy as hell. Cooking is number five. I sat at the table, sipping a wonderfully aromatic, flavorful Cabernet, and watched Scott move effortlessly around the kitchen. I turned on Pandora, hit my Too Hot play list, and propped my feet up on the next chair. I've Been Thinking started and his hips began to sway to the rhythm of the music. I'd already explored every inch of his fine body, but it'd been a while since I'd taken a moment to appreciate his symmetry.
As he washed the potatoes, my second glass of wine worked its way to my brain. The funky rhythm of Cockiness made my body want to move. It had to move. I stood behind Scott. My fingers started at his shoulders and worked their way down the V-shape of his back. He was a foot taller than me. That was number four on my list. My fingers reached his waist. I moved my hand between his elbow, and side, to the dial on the stove, and turned off the flame. My hand caressed his taut stomach, then traveled lower to his crotch. He set down the utensil he'd been using. My left hand moved around and slid up his chest beneath his shirt. He turned to face me. It'd been over a month since we'd gotten this close. His hands cradled my face as his lips connected with mine. One of his hands move to my breasts. He unbuttoned my blouse. His lips traced their way down my neck.
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