Holy shit, those words were even hotter than the green dress that showed off miles of cleavage that had my mouth watering to taste her. “You subscribe to my channel?”
“Yeah. Turns out you’re a pretty good teacher, and I’m expanding my culinary horizons thanks to you.” She was sincere, and now I really wanted her, which meant I would have her. In time.
I grabbed a chair from the table beside where Augusta and Megan sat, turning it backwards to hide the effect sparring with the pretty nurse was having on me. “You have me right here in town and you learn from the internet? I’m hurt.”
Augusta laughed, and it was a pretty sound, husky and feminine. “I can unsubscribe if you want. I’m sure there are other tattooed chefs I can learn from when my schedule allows it.”
“No need to be hasty,” I assured her because subscribers helped me pay the bills. “But I could give you a few lessons if you’d like.”
She arched a brow and folded her arms, skepticism written all over her face. “Is that a euphemism, or is it a genuine offer?”
It was my turn to laugh. “Can’t it be both?”
“It could,” she conceded, “but I know guys like you, all talk with a disappointing show. Maybe there’s some assistant behind the camera doing all the hard work.”
“You can ask Ollie. Who do you think made that breakfast you were drooling over?”
“You?”
I nodded, and I couldn’t help my satisfied smile. “Yeah. I melted the butter with the maple syrup and let it firm up again, that’s why it’s so smooth and spreadable.”
Augusta licked her lips and once again, those emerald eyes darkened to a deep forest green. She turned her gaze away from me and faced Megan, who offered up an encouraging, wide-eyed smile.
“Fine,” she turned back to me with a deliberately bored expression. “I accept the offer of cooking lessons, but I will resist your other offer.”
“You can try, Augusta, but we’ll see, won’t we?” I could already see her riding my cock, I could taste her sweet juices, those plump tits as her red hair spread across my pillow. Down her shoulders. Our bodies slick with sweat.
“Yeah, we will,” she insisted, her chin notched high in the air, defiant as hell.
“I can’t wait to get started.” That much was the truth. I had plenty of women ask for cooking lessons, but every single time was a euphemism for other things. “Come by tonight at six for the first lesson.”
She frowned. “Who said I’m free tonight?”
“Cal. Said you were pulled into a double shift with him in the ER. He’s off so you are too. Right?”
She grinned. “Stalker, much?”
“Nope, not much. Just a little.”
Megan giggled and stood as she fanned her face. “All right you two, I’m off before you set the whole place on fire. Talk to you later, Gus.”
“We didn’t finish our conversation,” she insisted to Megan’s retreating back.
I laughed at how worried she looked about being left alone with me, but really, it boosted my confidence. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late. And please, keep the dress on, I have aprons to protect your clothes.” The shocked expression on her face, the slight parting of her plump lips, was so damn satisfying that I walked out of Better Baked without my weekly éclair fix.
I would just have to make some myself when I got home and have Augusta test them out for me later. Oh yeah, I liked that plan better.
A hell of a lot better.
Gus
At five minutes to six o’clock, I stood on Antonio’s doorstep and rang the door bell, the green dress I had on earlier was laying on my bed in favor of a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I was sure Antonio was just messing with me and had no designs to take me to dinner or to bed, but just to be safe I decided to show up without the dress.
The front door opened and Antonio stood there in the same black t-shirt and gray jeans he had on earlier, a little bit of flour stained the t-shirt and his feet were bare. He shoved one hand in his pocket and smiled as he looked me up and down.
“I knew you would change.”
I shrugged. “Then you’re not disappointed.”
“The hell I’m not. I was looking forward to peeking down your cleavage whenever I could. Now I’ll settle for staring at that pink lace bra under your t-shirt.”
Of course he noticed. It was foolish to think he wouldn’t. I rolled my eyes to try and stop the smile that threatened at his words. “Are you gonna invite me in, or are we cooking outside?” Cooking outdoors might have been better than being squeezed into a tight space with this larger than life man.
Antonio stepped back, a small step that forced me to brush against him as I entered his home. “Welcome to Casa Ricci.”