“Do you have to work tomorrow?” George asked.
“No. I can call out. I have over two hundred sick days built up.”
“Two hundred?” George laughed. “That’s like a year.”
“Yeah, I don’t use them often. I could call out for months and no worries.”
“Good.” George traced his finger softly around Mikey’s nipple. “Because I may want to stay up a little later... make us a midnight snack. But first—”
George slipped beneath the tablecloth, trailing tiny kisses down Mikey’s belly. When he reached his groin, he pressed his face in deep there, inhaling his scent.
“Mm. Still smells like you down here. Makes my head swoon.”
Mikey relaxed, closing his eyes.
“Oh, and look what I found—an Italian sausage.”
Mikey snorted. “OK. That’s terrible.”
George gripped him, giving the flesh of his swelling manhood a long, enticing lick. “No. It’s sweet. Delicious, in fact.”
He took Mikey in his mouth, relishing the remnants of his salty-sweet flavor.
Mikey melted deeper into the sofa, his legs parting wider. “I’m gonna last longer this time, George. I promise.”
And he made good on that promise—whether from it being his second go-round, or just being more relaxed and comfortable with George. And when he came, George held him snug in his warm, wet mouth while he burst like ripe fruit.
And George savored those juices, keeping him dry.
Chapter 16
The following day, George and Zac were in the kitchen hammering out ideas for the grand opening menu.
“I say we keep it simple with a couple of showstoppers. That way we still have the comfort food feel of a family restaurant, but there’s an option for those who want to take it up a notch. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” Zac said. He was thumbing through a stack of index cards he’d brought with him. “I have a recipe in here somewhere for rack of lamb with mint chutney. If I can find the damn thing.”
“That would take the entrée selection up a notch for sure. But we don’t need a recipe. I can do a lamb-rack in my sleep.”
“I’m sure. But it’s the chutney ingredients I’m looking for. It’s off the charts. I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m liking this... the symmetry of keeping the menu the same, but adding something with flare to each category. Any ideas for appetizers?”
Zac thought about it. “Saganaki?”
“Can’t go wrong with fried cheese. We’ll have to find Graviera, though. If not, we’ll fall back on dolmades. And I think I’m going to elevate the spanakopitas too, add sliced potatoes and caramelized onions.”
“That makes me hungry right now.” Zac chuckled. “But you said we weren’t deviating.”
“Oh, well. Sue me.”
The door out front jingled.
“That’s probably May. Find that chutney recipe. I’ll be right back.”
George went out front to find that it was May. She was removing her coat, plopping it with her bag on the hostess stand. When she turned, he saw an enormous smile on her face. She opened her mouth to speak and—.
“Stop,” he said. “I don’t want to hear it.”
