“See if you can find a large mixing bowl. I’m going to start the grill.” I also need the fresh air so I don’t do something stupid like make a move. Our physical attraction is off the charts. That kiss the other day was my best kiss ever. Then Coach texted me after to check in and make sure Ivory was okay. I respect Coach. I don’t want him to think I took advantage of his daughter while on my extended vacation. Taking a few deep breaths and clearingmy thoughts, I get the grill fired up, and go back inside where Ivory is waiting at the counter with a large mixing bowl in front of her.
“I figured this is where you were going,” she says, gesturing to the bowl on the counter with the hamburger meat inside.
“Great start. You’re in charge of mixing and I’m in charge of grilling.” I walk Ivory through the steps of adding the various spices and seasonings to the raw hamburger meat.
“Now what?”
“Now you mix it together.”
“Okay.” Ivory begins looking around.
“What are you looking for?”
“Something to mix it with.”
I reach out and grab her wrist, stopping Ivory before she can start opening drawers. Swinging her back towards me, Ivory’s other hand lands on my chest. The heat from her palm radiating deep into my skin. I lift both of her hands in front of her face. “These make the best mixing tools for homemade burgers.”
“You want me to stick my hands in there?” Ivory asks incredulously.
“Come on, Hollywood, don’t be a chicken. It’s not going to hurt you.”
“It’s disgusting!”
“It’s just a little messy. Nothing to it.” When Ivory doesn’t move, I reach for her hips and slowly turn her to face the counter again. “You can wash your hands after. Get in there, chef.”
Ivory hesitates for another beat, then squints her eyes as if the hamburger meat will bite her as soon as she touches it. She gently places her fingers into the bowl.
“You’re not going to throw up or anything are you?”
“I don’t think so. It’s cold and sticky.” Ivory just barely touches the raw mixture.
“Come on, you can do better than that. Really dig in there and mix it together.”
“I am in there! You do it then.” Ivory moves to pull her hands out but I won’t let her give up on this.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Stepping up behind Ivory, I cage her in. My arms reach around to still her hands, my back flush against hers. It’s only now I realize this was a terrible fucking idea. Her tight round ass is pressed up against the top of my thighs. Ivory is tall but I still tower over her. My chin could easily rest on the top of her head. She fits perfectly in my hold at this angle. Ivory freezes entirely. Her body locked tight at the proximity. “Relax,” I breathe into her ear and don’t miss the slight shiver that passes through her body.Get your shit together, buddy. There’s no turning back now.“We’re going to do this together.”
“Together,” Ivory repeats under her breath while trying to loosen her muscles.
I like the waytogethersounds. Her hips wiggle and it takes everything in me to stifle the groan in my throat at the contact. Running my palms down Ivory’s forearms, I link our fingers together when I make it to her hands.
“Ready?”
Ivory nods and I direct our joined hands back into the mixing bowl. Using my hands to guide hers, I sink our fingers deep into the meat mixture. It’s squishy and cold but my blood is running hot with the skin to skin contact. “The trick is to fully submerge your hands in, then grab the meat and knead it together. Pulling back to catch the excess and mashing it back together.” I demonstrate the actions as I talk her through the steps, never breaking the link in our hands.
Ivory’s breathing comes in fast spurts, or is that mine? I can’t tell which action is hers and which is mine. She’s an active participant but doesn’t remove her hands from mine, so we keep mixing and mashing, flipping and kneading. I lose myself in the movement and the warmth of our bodies pressed together. When Ivory wiggles her hips again, I can’t help the slight thrust into her backside. She feels so good.
A noise that sounds like a moan disguised as a cough comes from Ivory as she asks, “How do you know when it’s done?”
Shit. That snaps me out of the daydream of bending Ivory over this counter and running my throbbing cock through Ivory’s slick heat.
“Um”—clearing my throat and my thoughts, I subtly create a distance between Ivory’s ass and my rapidly growing erection—“it looks to be good now.” I stop our hands and remove them from the now large ball.
“Now what?”
“Time to make the patties.”
“How do we do that?” She asks with a breathy moan, a clear sign she’s as affected by this as I am. And damn, does that make me feel good.
