Once we had the mix well combined, it was time to add the cookies. Holding three or four cookies in the palm of one hand, I faced the camera to give a clear view of how to do it best; pressing the thumb of the other hand into the middle of the cookies to break them in a few chunks.
"You can use any brand of Maria cookies since they all taste the same. We're getting there, viewers. Now, we add the cookie bits, but don't do it all at once as you might find you don't need them all."
The cookies were going in, and so far, most of them stayed in the bowl. "It's getting harder to mix them now," Joel said, turning the bowl to me as I leaned in closer.
The smell of Joel's shower gel and the chocolate were doing funny things to me. Fortunately, it seemed as though Joel was finally concentrating on the job at hand.
"We're almost finished. Now comes the messier part," I said, winking at the camera. "We have two pieces of waxed paper, one on top of the other, and we're going to transfer the mix to the paper so we can start shaping the salami."
"Sounds complicated. Maybe you should do this bit," Joel said, frowning.
"Nope, we want to show the viewers at home that anyone can follow this recipe."
I explained how Joel should use the paper to mold the mix and then roll it into a salami shape. Then we folded the ends as though it was a large candy wrapper ready to go in the fridge.
"Now the salami goes in the fridge to set. Once it has set, you can unwrap it, slice it, and serve it. It should be in the fridge at least two hours or ideally overnight, but you can feel how hard it is by touching it."
Cue a cough from my fourteen-year-old companion.
"We're going to tidy up while the salami sets, and then we'll be back to show you the result. See you in a bit." I waited a few seconds and then went around the table to turn the camera off.
I stood behind the camera, looked at the small screen, and my breath caught in my throat. I looked up to see Joel running a finger inside the bowl that had the chocolate salami mix. He put the finger in his mouth to taste the chocolate and moaned. It was the sexiest sound I've heard in my life, and it went straight to my dick, so I didn't have enough brainpower to conjure moving or taking my eyes off him.
Joel looked at me, and his cheeks went immediately red at getting caught tasting the leftover chocolate. However, that look was quickly replaced by one of heat when he looked down and saw the thick outline of my cock straining against the fabric of my jeans.
I was sure I resembled a rabbit struck by bright lights, frozen in place and unable to move. Joel must have noticed because he moved his eyes up to meet mine slowly, and then without breaking eye contact, he put his finger in the bowl once more and ran it oh-so-very slowly along the sides, catching more of the mix.
Joel brought his finger up to his mouth and took his time opening his lips to lead the chocolate-covered finger in, all without taking his fucking gorgeous blue eyes off mine.
Suddenly I wasn't in control of myself anymore. I took the few strides needed to stand right in front of Joel, grabbed his finger up with one hand, and used my free hand to pull him closer to me. I was still looking into his eyes so full of desire they were a dark sapphire blue. I pulled his finger up to my mouth and sucked it clean, closing my eyes and letting my taste buds learn the taste of a chocolate-covered Joel.
"Mhm… you taste delicious," I said with a hoarse voice, breaking the silence for the first time since we stopped filming. Before I could do anything else, I felt Joel's lips on mine, soft and full in contrast with the rough scruff on his face.
I knew about muscle memory. I ran often, and I exercised. If I had a particularly busy time at the café and was unable to do either of those, I knew from experience that my muscles would know what to do and where to hurt the next time.
What I didn't know was that my lips would also have a memory, because the moment Joel's lips touched mine, I was fourteen again, and there was nowhere else I belonged other than here with his soft lips tentatively pressing against mine, confident but also unsure.
Joel licked my lower lip, coaxing my mouth open, which I was happy to oblige since I couldn't wait a second more to taste him. The kiss didn't disappoint. Joel's tongue was hot and sweet and tasted so chocolatey, I wondered how many licks of the bowl he’d had before I caught him.
I must have moaned in my lust fog, giving Joel permission to pull me closer. I could feel his hard cock against mine before he palmed my cock over my jeans, making me moan louder. I had to put a hand on the table to steady myself, and when I accidentally knocked the bowl off the table and onto the floor, I forced myself to give up Joel’s hungry, sweet lips.
Fuck, what was I doing? I wasn’t supposed to kiss him.
I took a step back, and Joel looked at me, the question written all over his face, but words failed me. My lips were still tingling from his touch, and my dick was at war with my brain, still pressing hard against my jeans.
"Joel... fuck, I’m sorry," I said when I got my speech back. "I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry."
He looked hurt for a moment but quickly stiffened and smiled. "I kissed you, remember? I’m sorry. I clearly misread the situation. It won’t happen again." He went around me to pick up the bowl from the floor and took it to the sink.
All I could think was that he hadn’t misread the situation at all. I wanted him to kiss me. I’d wanted that since the first moment I saw him in the café. I just couldn’t afford to give in to my feelings, and I was too scared to tell him why. It was one thing to think about Joel’s lips, his body, and wanting them; it was another to act on it.
We cleared up the kitchen in silence. I was desperate to take it all back, to rewind the afternoon and see playful Joel again, but I knew I had ruined everything like I always do.
Earlier, I’d put the salami in the freezer to help it set faster so we could do all the filming today. I was checking on it when I saw Joel put the dishcloth down and turn to face me. He looked like he was going to say something but stopped himself. Fuck, please don’t tell me you’re walking out on me.
Maybe my pleading eyes told him what I couldn’t say out loud; maybe he just understood, because when he asked if the salami was ready so we could resume the filming, I thought I was going to sob with relief that he wasn’t going to leave me just yet.
"You think you might try making that recipe again?" I asked tentatively.
