Page 50 of Pretty Relentless

I pour the moscato into two glasses she retrieves from a cabinet, hoping this stuff doesn’t taste like shit. When she takes her glass, I hold mine up for a quick toast. “To a wonderful evening amongst new friends.”

A faint blush burns her cheeks as she taps my glass with her own and takes a small sip. I watch her intently, studying the curves of her face and the way her lips form around the glass. I can’t help but notice she doesn’t grimace when the cold liquid hits her tongue, so that’s a plus. Taking my own taste, I instantly catch the hint of floral mixed with the sweetness of the wine, and I realize it’s not terrible. Definitely not the worst I’ve had.

Of course, the company’s pretty fucking fantastic, so the wine could taste like goat piss and I’d still drink it as if it were the best thing I’ve ever had. Seeing her drop her guard minute by minute has me relaxing a bit more. I’m completely entranced with her movements, her smile, and watching the change in her eyes.

Forcing myself to stop watching her, I ask, “What smells so amazing in here?”

“Oh, uh, I found this recipe online a few weeks back and have been wanting to try it,” she informs me as she sets her glass down and moves to the Crock-Pot.

“So I’m your guinea pig?”

Her cheeks blush again. “It makes so much. I can’t just prepare it for myself,” she insists, glancing down at the lidded Crock-Pot. “I probably should have asked what you prefer.”

Propping my hip against the counter, I cross my ankles and watch her. “We discussed this early this morning when we talked about food.” We texted into the wee hours of the morning, and it’s not the first time. Since our non-date date last Friday, we’ve talked quite a bit, getting to know each other.

She sighs. “I know. You said you like everything but candied yams and bananas, which is so weird, by the way.”

“They’re mushy,” I reason with a smile.

“Well, I’m hoping you like sausage tortellini.”

“Love it.” My reply is instant.

She shakes her head and grins. “I haven’t even told you what’s in it yet.”

I lift my shoulders and take another sip of my wine. “Doesn’t matter. I like about everything, and if I don’t, I’ll pick it out.”

“Spinach?”

“Yep.”

“Sun-dried tomatoes?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cheese?”

“Who doesn’t?”

She giggles the sweetest sound. “Well, then you should like this. It has all of the above.”

“Perfect,” I tell her, continuing to watch her move about her kitchen.

When she pulls two plates from the cabinet, I step forward. “Let me.”

Ava retrieves a covered container of sliced bread that smells freshly baked, while I find the silverware for the table.When she places hotpot holders on the table and goes to lift the Crock-Pot bowl out of the base, I’m there to help. “Let me.”

When the amazing smelling food is on the table, we take our seats. “This looks delicious, Ava. Thank you.”

She gives me a small grin. “Thanks. I don’t cook a lot because it’s just me, but I do enjoy it.”

Placing my hand on my belly, I add, “Well, I love to eat, so anytime you want to try a new recipe, I’m your guy.”

Her cheeks stain pink as she nibbles on her bottom lip. My cock notices right away, but I will him into submission. No way does she need to know I could get hard just by watching her teeth bite into her plump lip. She’ll probably think I’m a sex fiend and kick me out.

Yes, I’m a guy who enjoys sex, but my reaction is simple.

It’s her.

---