“Fuck off, Grant,” Lev says, but his tone is light and filled with amusement before he leans in and kisses my swollen lips. “Next time, there won’t be any interruptions,” he whispers loud enough that only I can hear.
The promise in his voice makes my pussy clench as I remember our date is this weekend.
“Let’s get to work,” I blurt out, trying to cover my nervous excitement about what his words mean.
39
LEV
Ilook around the kitchen, ensuring all the ingredients are ready while I wait for Ariah to arrive. Thomas agreed to drive her over so I could start the prep work. I put the dough to rest and begin to work on cutting the tops off the strawberries in order to hollow them out. I don’t want to make anything too elaborate tonight so that we can focus on getting to know each other more.
I grab the cheesecake filling I made earlier from the cooler and the piping bag once the strawberries have been hollowed. Then I work to fill each berry before placing them on a parchment paper-covered cookie sheet. Once they’re filled, I place them back into the cooler until it’s time for Ariah and me to make them.
Closing the door to the cooler, I turn to survey the kitchen— everything is ready. I walk to the pantry to grab the apron I had made for her, hoping she’ll enjoy my sense of humor. After the other day, things between us have finally lost their tension—at least the tension that had her annoyed with me. The sexual type, on the other hand—. I don’t finish my thought because just as I place the apron on the table, Geoffrey announces her arrival.
I take one more cursory glance around the room and make my way to the entrance to greet her.
By the time I reach the door, she’s standing inside the entryway, and I come to a complete stop. My mouth falls open as I take her in. She’s wearing high-waisted, distressed black denim jeans that accentuate her curves and an off-the-shoulder Nirvana hoodie. Her long bluish-black hair falls in waves down past her shoulders.Damn.She’s fucking gorgeous.
“Hey,” she smiles, alerting me to the fact that I’ve just been staring at her like an idiot without saying a word.
I look into her alluring eyes. I’d give anything to know what’s going on in that head of hers. Is she seeing how much I really want her— want this? Does she notice how sorry I am for my dickish behavior when I first met her?
“Hi,” I finally respond. Because I’m a man of many words.
We stand there momentarily just looking at each other before my brain gets the memo. It’s my house. I need to be the one to get this date started.
Clearing my throat, I try to actually formulate a sentence that’s not monosyllabic. “Um. Let’s go to the kitchen. I thought we could make dinner together.”
Way to sound confident there, my guy.
Ariah nods and begins to walk toward me. “Your mom mentioned I should get you to cook for me. I’m looking forward to seeing just how skillful you are.”
Was that a double entendre?
I want to say you’ll more than find out how skillful I am in and out of the kitchen, but I don’t want to push my luck. The energy between us might have been hot that night, but that doesn’t mean she wants to know what it feels like to have my ropes imprinting against her delectable ass.
My jaw clenches as I fight to control my ever-aching dick. It’s been almost a month since she’s been home, and to say that blue balls and I are intimate comrades is putting it lightly. Thank fuck for ice baths and football games.
I bite the inside of my cheek before I reply. “Cooking is a place where I can lose myself. I like to play around with ingredients.” And it’s true. I do like the science of creating all types of masterpieces, whether that be preparing a meal or preparing a lethal cocktail for interrogations.
Once we’re back in the kitchen, I pick up the apron off the table, and then I make my way over to her. Standing before her, I pull the strap over her head before lifting her hair from under the loop. Then I move behind her and tie the strings as I pull her in, lowering my mouth to her ear and asking, “Are you ready to put my skills to the test?”
I swear I can hear her gulp before a soft gasp escapes her. “Yes,” is her only reply as she steps away from me, allowing me to see her face reddening.
Smiling, I clasp her hand and pull her over to the counter.
“I thought we could make homemade pizza for dinner and then some cheesecake-filled chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert,” I state once we reach everything.
Her face lights up. “Oh, I’ll never say no to pizza or cheesecake anything,” she snorts. Her snort morphs into a laugh. “Bitch, I’m the secret ingredient,” she says once she finally takes in the words on her apron. “Do you always have snarky aprons lying around?” she asks.
“I have a few, but I got this one specifically for you,” I inform her, wanting to make sure she knows that tonight was planned down to every detail.
She tilts her chin up, and a warm smile fills her face. “This is cute, thank you.” Then she claps her hands. “Okay, let’s get this started. I’m ready for pizza.”
“Right. First, we need to make the crust,” I state, grabbing the dough that’s been resting. “Grab that bowl of flour over there and sprinkle it on the counter. I’m going to check on the brick oven to make sure it’s set for once we’ve made some pies.”
By the time I’m back, Ariah has the flour spread out, and she’s already working the dough. Her hair is up, and her face is concentrating on the task at hand.
