Page 65 of Spin The Bottle
I close the fridge, turning back around to face her. “Woman, do you not eat? Where is your food?”
She shrugs, wiping off the mask on her face with the rag. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” she says.
“And what were you going to eat?”
“I would have figured it out,” she says, cleaning the rest of the mask off.
“Come on.”
She glances up at me. “For what?”
“You obviously don’t know how to cook,” I say. “I’m going to teach you.”
22
Cooking is dangerous
“I know how to cook.”
He turns his head back, lifting his brows. “Really?”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “I’m Colombian, cooking is like a rite of passage in my family. Not to mention my dad owns a food truck. He taught me how to cook when I was ten.”
“He did?” he asks, and I don’t miss how his face drops a little.
“Yeah.” I approach him. “He’s a great cook. Too bad he hates making vegetarian stuff.” It took watching him behead a chicken to change my mind about eating meat. I laugh, remembering how he looked at me as if I was crazy when I announced I was going to be a vegetarian. It didn’t stop him, though. He learned new recipes, new ways of making food without meat.
Aiden grabs the eggs from the fridge, along with the cheese and mushrooms, and places everything on the counter. I watch as he rolls his sleeves up, washes his hands, and grabs a chopping board that’s definitely not mine. I guess Rosie left it here.
“You’re really going to cook for me?” I ask him, admiring how he dominates the kitchen. My god, this man is so hot.
He laughs, grabbing a bowl from my cabinet. “You make it seem like I’m doing something extravagant. I’m just cooking you food.”
“Why?”
He turns his head, lifts his brows at me, his face covered in a green face mask. “Because, gorgeous,” he says, stepping closer to me. I can’t even start to explain what he does to me every time he uses that nickname. “I want to take care of you. I want to make you happy other than just giving you orgasms.”
Big, red alarms flash in my mind, reminding me I’monlysupposed to want the orgasms. A laugh bubbles out of me. “I do love the orgasms, though,” I sigh.
He narrows his eyes, taking a step closer. “Just orgasms in general or the ones I give you?”
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling every hard ridge of his body. I lift onto my tiptoes, reaching his ear. “Just orgasms in general.”
He laughs, brushes his lips against my jaw. “Too bad I can’t prove you wrong. But I will. I’ll make you see that no one can make you feel like I do.” His lips graze mine and I close my eyes but before I can deepen the kiss, he pulls back with a satisfied smile. His thumb wipes the mask that transferred to my face. “This shit really gets everywhere, huh?”
I laugh while grabbing a rag to wipe his face clean staring into his bright blue eyes as I do. “There,” I say when his face is mask free. “All done.”
He smirks. “How do I look?”
There’s not a word in the English language for how handsome this man is. I can’t let him know that, though, so I lift my shoulder, shrugging. “Meh.”
He laughs. “Meh?”
I love how he knows I’m teasing him. It could be because he’s cocky, or he just knows that he’s one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. “I’ve seen better.”
He chuckles, shaking his head and pulls me into him. “You always know how to flatter me,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my cheek, staring into my eyes. I don’t know how long we stay there, just looking at each other. “C’mon,” he says. “I need to get food in you.”
I nod again, unable to say anything, watching him walk past me into the kitchen, washing his hands before he holds the mushrooms up. “Do you want to help me?” he asks, placing them on a cutting board. I nod and he slides it over to me. “Cut them up into chunks,” he tells me.
