Page 66 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“‘Add the wine to the partially cooked rice, stirring until it’s absorbed,’” he read. “‘Then add the stock, ladle by ladle, as the rice mixture absorbs the liquid. Keep stirring. Add the cheese once the rice is cooked and the liquid absorbed. Your risotto will be beautifully oozy.’” Hmm…
A pile of grated cheese sat next to the chopped onions. The grocery store hadn’t had Parmesan, either, so he’d bought something that looked a bit like cheddar, even if it was an alarming shade of yellow. It’d tone down as it cooked. Along with the onions there was a jug of stock, and a bottle of white wine. Or rather a third of a bottle of wine, as he’d had to taste it the night before, just to make sure it was the right kind of wine.
“Okay. Time to cook. Onions first, then the rest.”
The onions hit the hot oil, spitting and sizzling, quickly turning not golden but black. Shit. The oil was too hot. He turned the heat down and scraped at the pan, but most of the onions were sticking like glue.
“Think you might have had the heat too high,” Arlo called from the safety of the couch.
Talk about stating the bleeding obvious… “Everything’s in hand.”
Time to add the rice. Lucian ripped the bag open with his teeth, half the contents spilling out over the floor. He poured what remained into the pan and stirred, mixing the rice with the blackened pieces of onion. He peered down into the pan; it didn’t exactly resemble the photo on his cell.
The rice started to burn and stick to the bottom of the pan, joining forces with the onion. Fucking hell… this was supposed to be a throw in the ingredients and stir recipe, and hey presto! Instant domestic god. Lucian poured in the wine, turning the rice and onion mix into a bubbling thin soup.
“The knack to risotto is to make sure you add the liquid slowly and to keep on stirring.” Arlo abandoned the couch and wandered over. “Like this.”
From behind, Arlo coiled his arms around Lucian’s waist. Covering the hand holding the spoon, Arlo moved it in small circles.
“Add the stock when it dries out a little.” Arlo poured a small amount of stock as he continued to guide Lucian’s hand with the spoon. “Hmmm, I think you should cook for me more often.”
Lucian’s knees began to buckle as Arlo nuzzled into his neck, sucking on the tender, sensitive skin just below his ear. Leaning back into Arlo, he groaned. Maybe dinner could wait.
“Pour and stir, pour and stir,” Arlo whispered against his neck.
Pour and stir… He could get used to cooking if it came with having Arlo wrapped around him, kissing and nuzzling into his neck.
“I think it’s on the edge, don’t you?” Arlo’s voice was a husky, deep growl, reverberating across his warm skin.
Oh, yes. He was certainly on the edge. Lucian pushed back against him, rubbing his ass against the growing bulge in Arlo’s pants. Yep, dinner could definitely wait. “Why don’t we—”
“Add the cheese?”
“What?”
Arlo chuckled, sending a ripple of hunger through Lucian, hunger that absolutely, definitely had nothing to do with risotto.
“Can’t have a cheese risotto without the cheese, babe.”
Arlo scattered in the cheese, added a pat of butter, stirred — and stepped back. “Now we need to let it rest for a short while. To kind of settle down.”
“But I want it now,” Lucian said, spinning around, glaring at Arlo who stared back at him with a shit-eating grin. Bastard…
“It’s best when you’ve waited. I promise, it’ll taste so much better.”
Lucian huffed and looked down at his crotch, the tenting in his jeans already subsiding.
Arlo laughed. “Okay, let’s eat. I might let you have some dessert later.”
Lucian’s dick twitched. Dessert, that was certainly worth waiting for.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Sitting across the table from one another, they dug into the risotto.
“What rice did you use?” Arlo asked, chewing slowly.
“The only kind the store had.”
