Page 35 of Pregnant By the Playboy
My mouth is really watering now.
“What were you doing tonight?” I ask.
“Just having a drink at a lounge.”
“You certainly drink at fancier places than I do. Than I used to, I mean. I’m not drinking anymore.” I don’t want him to think I’m endangering the health of his baby.
I carry the bags into the kitchen and take out the Cheese & Me box. What greets me when I open the lid is a surprise. He has indeed gotten me matcha double fromage cheesecake—a generous half of one. There’s also a smaller half of a different cheesecake.
I don’t understand, but I don’t care. I grab a fork and stab my beloved double fromage cheesecake. When I put the first bite in my mouth, I moan.
“Good?” Vince asks.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy shoveling cheesecake into my mouth.
I eat a third of it before I look at Vince again. His lips are quirked up. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and it works well on him.
“Explain this situation.” I gesture at the box of cheesecake with my fork. “Why are there two different cheesecakes?”
“They had just sold the last matcha double fromage cheesecake to another man. I tried to buy it off him for triple the price, but he refused—it’s for his mother’s birthday. So, I bought a regular matcha cheesecake, then walked around the room until I found a couple with your desired cheesecake who were willing to part with what they had left. I gave them forty bucks and part of my cheesecake for it. They drove a hard bargain, but I wasn’t going to turn up without any matcha double fromage cheesecake from Cheese & Me.”
Oh my God. This man.
I drop my fork and kiss him.
He’s caught off-guard, but then his arms come around me and he kisses me back. I cup his slightly-scruffy jaw and slide my tongue between his lips. He tastes of liquor—I’m not sure what kind, but I bet it’s expensive—and some kind of spice. It’s perfect. At least as good as my matcha double fromage cheesecake, and isn’t that a disturbing thought, since a minute ago I was thinking that cheesecake was the pinnacle of human achievement. His mouth is warm and welcoming, and we meld together just right.
At last, I step back and return to the cheesecake.
“Uh, sorry,” I say, somewhat sheepishly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
He puts his finger under my chin and tilts my head up. “I think you do.”
“Fine. You’re really fucking handsome in that suit. What is it about three-piece suits? They look so good and I rarely see men our age wear them. You also brought me that magnificent cheesecake—”
“And you were helpless to resist me. Got it. Kind of like the time you walked up to me at a party and shoved my hand up your skirt.”
“That’s not quite what happened.”
“If you want to do it again, I’d be agreeable.”
“Must be tough for you to go without sex since you promised to be faithful to me, even though I didn’t ask for it. But the answer is no.”
I’m slightly tempted, but I have self-restraint.
I return to scarfing down the cheesecake.
“Out of curiosity,” he says, “what is this double fromage cheesecake?”
“It’s a thin layer of matcha sponge cake, followed by baked matcha cheesecake with some kind of creamy mousse on top—that’s the white layer. Not too sweet, but so delicious.”
“And what’s the green coating? It looks like AstroTurf.”
“Hey, it looks much more appealing than AstroTurf. It’s crumbled matcha sponge cake.” I hesitate. I’m not sure I want to do this, but he did come all this way. “Want to try a bite?”
“You’re offering me a bite? How generous.”
“It’s extremely generous. If you’d managed to get me an entire matcha double fromage cheesecake, I might have offered you more than a bite.”
