I grab my phone and FaceTime Lauren again. I watch as it says connecting.
“Hey, are these ready?” I ask, turning the phone to the peppers and onions that are frying away.
“Almost. I would give it another minute or two.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I say, disconnecting again. I wait about a minute, grabbing a plate and placing them in it. When I have them all off, I put the pan back on the stove, adding the seitan. The sound of sizzle starts again. “Oh, shit,” I say, trying to grab a fork to flip the pieces, but it’s stuck to the pan. “What the fuck?” I try to pick them up, but the pieces are turning black so fast.
I call Lauren right away. “Why is the seitan sticking to the pan?”
“I have no idea.”
“I scraped the peppers and onions out and then added the seitan like the recipe said.”
“Did you add some more oil?”
“No, it didn’t say to.” I check the paper. “Okay, I’ll add some now.” I pour some oil into the pan, but I guess it was too hot because it smells right away of burn. I take the pot off the heat. “I added oil and it smells burnt.”
“The pot was too hot,” she tells me like it’s something everyone should know. “You need to lower the heat while you cook the meat. Then just add the veggies again.”
“Okay. Remind me to never cook this shit again,” I tell her, tossing my phone on the counter, waiting for the pot to cool down, the oil being absorbed into the seitan. I lower the temperature on the stove and place the pan back on. When the seitan starts browning instead of blackening, I’m thinking I got this under control. I grab the bread, slicing it in half and placing it on the cookie sheet while I open the oven.
I look down at convention or bake. The sheet says bake, so I press that button and put the buns in. I add the peppers to the seitan and put it on simmer so it stays warm.
I go into the living room and light some of the candles from last night. I go to the table and see if there is anything I can set the table with. A beep sounds from the oven, so I go over and check on the bread. Opening the door, the smell of burning and smoke make my eyes burn. Grabbing a cloth, I take the cookie sheet out of the oven. I notice I pressed broil instead of bake. “Shit,” I say, pressing the right button this time. Thankfully, the bag came with six buns.
Placing the buns in the oven, I set a timer for four minutes just to make sure. I grab the vegan provolone out of the bag, going to the oven and placing them into the buns so they can melt at the same time. Once the timer rings, I open the oven, taking out the buns with the melted cheese. I start putting the seitan at the bottom and placing the peppers and onions on the top. I place it back into the oven. I press the warm button to keep the sandwiches hot. Happy with my progress, I start cleaning up and come across the buns that are burnt. I hear the front door open and slam shut. Panic fills me as I take in the buns. I grab them up and toss them in the garbage and place the garbage on top of it.
“Honey, I’m home.” I hear from behind me. I turn, trying to get the look of despair out of my eyes.
“Hey.” I smile over at him. I should have gotten naked. This way he wouldn’t notice the burnt bread. “Just in time. Supper is ready.”
“Is it now?” he says, putting the cases on the counter and taking out a couple of bottles of white wine. “I’m told this is a vegan wine. I can’t confirm that she didn’t lie to me,” he says, showing me the label which is in fact a vegan wine.
“Awww, aren’t you sweet?” I grab a couple of wine glasses from the island that I found earlier. “Why don’t you pour the wine, and I’ll bring in the food?”
He comes closer to me. “I like seeing you here in my home. Cooking for me.” He leans down, whispering the last part before he places a kiss on my lips. I’m about to go one step further by slipping my tongue into his mouth, but the beep from the oven lets me know that the warming is done.
He nods his head, opening a drawer and taking out a cork screw. I open the oven, grabbing a rag, and bringing the cookie sheet out. The hoagies look amazing if I do say so myself.
Placing a hoagie on one plate and then the other, I carry both plates to the dining room. The sun is starting to set and with no light on it’s almost like it’s dim.
I sit down and watch Noah uncork the wine, pouring my glass first, and then his own. Sitting down in front of me, he raises his glass.
“To the first of many home-cooked meals.” He winks at me while I click my glass against his.
I take a sip of the wine, watching him lean over and pick up the hoagie, taking a bite. The bread crunches as he bites down. I reach for my own hoagie, cutting it in half.
“What’s in this?” he asks at his second bite.
He wears a confused look on his face while he opens the hoagie to see what is in fact inside.
“Veggies and seitan,” I say, grabbing a piece and biting down. Not too bad. It tastes a little like char from the burnt seitan, but it has that whole Philly steak vibe.
He grabs his wine, downing it.
“What the hell is seitan?” he asks. “Is there no steak in this Philly steak?”
I laugh at him, grabbing my wine and taking a sip to drown out the taste of burnt. “No, silly, it’s seitan, which is a ‘wheat beef’. It’s a fake beef.”
“Well, what happened to the real beef?”
I laugh at him. “I can’t eat the real beef, so I improvised.”
He takes another bite, peering inside the hoagie. “It’s almost like foam texture, or sponge. It squeaks while I chew.”
I shake my head, taking another bite, and he isn’t wrong. It does squeak. “Maybe because I overcooked it.” I take another bite. “Or burnt it.”
“Babe, I really want to eat this, but…” He looks down, his hands going up. “But. But.”
“But you won’t be full?” I try to make an excuse for him.
“Yes, I won’t be full. We should order pizza.” He pushes off the table, going to get a menu from the drawer while I take a piece of seitan with my fork. Fuck, it’s horrible. It tastes like burnt wood.
“What do you like on your pizza?” he asks, handing me the menu.
“I’m going to take the veggie one with no cheese and extra sauce.” I smile at him. “You can get your own.”
He picks up the phone, dialing the pizza guy. “Hey, I’ll take a small veggie pizza, no cheese and extra sauce, and then I’ll take a large meat lovers pizza extra sausage.”
I laugh at his order.
He hangs up. “Should be here in thirty minutes. Want to go sit outside by the pool?”
I hadn’t even noticed the pool, but now that it is dark outside the light from the pool illuminates the yard. I grab my glass of wine, following him outside. The whole backyard is free of grass. It’s all bricks and cement. The pool sits in the middle of the yard. There is a wall of cement all around it, acting like a fence. But there are lights on the wall. Against the far wall to the back there is a ledge that is built in, filled with pillows and cushions. Two potted plants sit in the corner. Two loungers are on one side near the door and on the other side is a round lounger with a half cover over it.
“Where would you like to sit?” he asks, waiting for me to continue looking around.
“Let’s go sit on the round one.” I wink at him. “This way we can make out if we want.” I smile at him while he grabs my hand, dragging me to it.
Chapter Thirteen
Noah
I walk her to the round lounger, waiting for her to crawl on. She places her wine glass on the side table next to the lounger and then sits down on it. I’m so happy this date didn’t go to shit after I confessed that her cooking was horrible.
I sat down and looked at the hoagie. It looked good, but the minute I had bitten into it, it tasted like burnt feet. The ‘steak’ fucking squeaked with every bite. I had to swallow my whole wine glass to get the taste of it out of my mouth and even that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stand to see her disappointment, so I took anoth
er bite. It was the bite that ended all bites. The taste was even worse with the second bite. It was grainy now, and the dryness of the bread made it almost like sand.
But now here we are sitting in the middle of my round lounger. I pick up my phone, turning on some jazz music. The sound fills the speakers outside.
She smiles at me. “Nice touch there, Casanova.”
I lie down next to her, propping my back against the cushions, watching her kick off her brown sandals.
“So tell me,” she starts. “Who is Noah?”
I laugh at her question, folding my hands on my stomach. The need to reach out and drag her even closer to me itches. “Just a simple guy, living a simple life.” Even I laugh at that. “Okay, fine. My parents are both lawyers, so it was only normal I would follow into their path. It was actually implemented since I was old enough to remember that I was going to be a lawyer. They deal with criminal law. The stories they have told over the years, I knew right away I couldn’t do it. So I went with the complete opposite, corporate law. What about you?” I say, reaching over to tuck a strand of blond hair that has fallen out of her pinned up hair. “Who is Kaleigh?”
Her head flies back as she laughs at that question. “Who is Kaleigh? That’s a loaded question.” She tilts her head. “I’m an aunt.” She turns around, grabbing her wine glass. “I run my own yoga studio. Saved up all my babysitting money since I was thirteen.” She laughs. “Okay, and my parents gave me the down payment, but I have paid them back in full.” She drinks another sip.
“It’s funny that you said you’re an aunt first, a maternal instinct.”
I pick up the bottle of wine that I brought with me, pouring her some more wine.
“Best thing to happen to me was becoming an aunt.” She smiles when she talks about them. “I mean, minus the fact that their father deserves to have chaffing balls syndrome. Or like a constant case of hemorrhoids, bleeding and raw.”
“Wow, that bad?” I ask, grabbing my own glass of wine.
“When you promise to love someone forever, it should be forever. It’s not till someone pays more attention to me.” She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s why I will never get married. Why I will never put myself out there.” Her smile gets softer. She puts her glass on the table and lays her head down on her arm. “There is no such thing as fairy tales, Noah, no Prince Charming.” Her eyes close a little bit. Her eyelids seem so heavy.
I nod, palming her cheek in my hand. “Rest for a bit. I’ll wake you when the pizza gets here,” I tell her as she brings her knees up and lies in a fetal position.
I get up, walking to one of the benches that doubles as storage.
I take a cover out, going over to her and placing it over her. The doorbell rings, so I run inside to pay the delivery boy. Walking back to the oven, I place the pizza on the counter. I clean up the food on the table, picking up a plate and smelling it again. Grimacing, I toss it all in the garbage. I place a couple of pieces of pizza on each plate, bringing it outside. I walk to the lounger and I’m about to yell out that I’m back, but her eyes are still closed. I balance the plates, getting on the lounger with her. I try not to make too much movements so I don’t disturb her. Once I sit with my back against the pillow, I fold the pizza, taking a bite. I moan out as soon as my tongue tastes the sauce, then the meat, then the cheese. Fuck, it’s the best thing I think I’ve ever eaten. Okay, maybe not but after that squeaky fake meat, this is pretty fucking high up there.
After I finish eating my two slices, I go inside to grab my iPad. Might as well work. Bringing it to the lounger with me, I settle next to Kaleigh. Her hair is now fanning the pillow, so I take the iPad and take a picture of her. She looks like an angel, like a devilish angel. I smile, opening up my emails and reading through some contracts that need to be presented to Sal. I don’t know how long I’ve been working when I hear stirring next to me.
“What time is it?” she asks, stretching her arms above her head, and her back arches.
“Almost ten p.m.” I put my iPad on the side table, turning around to scoot down and grab her around her waist, bringing her closer to me. Her hands automatically wrap around me. “You missed pizza.” I kiss her lips while she flings her leg up over my hip, my cock positioning right inside of her pussy. The heat radiates through my pants, my cock suddenly ready to party.
“I must have been more tired than I thought I was,” she says, pressing into me. “Well, hello there, little man.” She laughs out while my face dives into her neck.
“Little man?” My eyebrows pinch together. “I’ll show you little man.” I roll her on her back, her legs spreading and then locking at the ankles and resting in the middle of my back. “He’s more than a little man. He’s like a big blue whale penis.” I lean down to kiss her, grinding into her as my tongue invades her mouth. My tongue takes control of this kiss.
Her hands go from around my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms, and up my chest before she breaks the kiss. “I really, really wish I didn’t have a rule.”
My arms hold me up. “What rule?”
“I don’t sleep with the same person twice.”
“Why in the hell would you make that rule?” I ask her.
“It’s just easier for everyone and no one gets hurt. No shaded area. And everyone is none the wiser and no ill feelings. It’s like peace and love sort of, kind of, you know.”
I shake my head. “But what if you really like the person after that one time? What if he’s the best dick you ever had?” I wink at her. “In case you didn’t understand the question, I’m the best dick you’ve ever had.”
She laughs at me. “Even if it’s the best dick I’ve ever had, I don’t break the rule.” She kisses underneath my chin. “And you really are the best dick I’ve ever had. Which now saddens me since you might have broken my vagina for all other penises out there.”
“Then we should totally make our parts meet again.” I grind into her. “My big, and I emphasize big man, would really love to come out and cuddle in you.”
She giggles again and this time her stomach lets a big grumble.
“Well, then I guess this wooing will have to wait till you’re fed.” I roll off of her and my cock protests by jerking. “Maybe you’re hangry and that is why you think we should fuck again.”
She turns to roll off the lounger, sliding her hair back into a bun. “Yes, feed me.” She picks up the glasses and bottle of almost empty wine, following me inside.
I take out her pizza, sliding it into the microwave. I grab her a fork and knife while she sits herself at the island. Placing the now hot pizza in front of her, I smile. “For you, milady.”
She grabs a piece, folding it like me and eating it, totally ignoring the fork and knife. “This is really, really good,” she says in between bites. “So much better than the steak sandwich, right?” she asks, grabbing her second slice.
“You can’t call it a steak sandwich if there is no steak in it.” I lean on the counter on my elbow. “And there was no fucking steak in that thing.”
She takes a sip of water that I had placed down before I put the pizza there. “Okay, fine, the veggies sandwich then.” She rolls her eyes as she continues eating.
“So how do I get you to break your rule?” I wonder how much she will stand on her vow.
“You can’t.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I won’t put myself through that and I refuse to put the other person through that.”
“So what if we just hang around as friends and if things progress then it’s a win-win for both of us.” I try not to sound desperate. I’ve never hung out with a woman in my life, but for another taste of her I’d be more than happy.
She looks at me with a perplexed face. “You want to hang out with me to see if I will change my rule?” She shakes her head, taking another bite of pizza. “You have lost your mind. Men and women can’t be friends.”
I stand up straight, folding my arms over my chest. “Why the hell not?” I ask her.
“Wel
l,” she starts saying, wiping her hands in a napkin, “women are from Mars, men are from Venus.” She shrugs, picking up her glass of water like she just solved a case.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You can’t possibly be friends with the opposite sex without the black and white becoming gray.”
“So are you telling me that you aren’t friends with any male people?”
She shakes her head. “No, I have many male friends. Most are gay and most are my friends’ spouses. But I am not friends with males I’ve had sex with.”
My hands shoot up. “Why the hell not? If you have a ‘rule’”—I put my hand up into motion—“then why can’t you close yourself off?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve never put myself in the position, so I can’t answer that, but I can say that if you and I”—she points from me to her—“were friends, that black and white will turn to gray.”
I smile at her. “You can’t say no to my charm?”
“No, I’m saying that you won’t just want a friendship with me. You will get jealous if I have another date. You will get jealous if we go out for coffee and then a ‘friend’”—she uses quotations—“calls me or I meet another man.”
“Bullshit. I think I can contain myself. I think you can’t contain yourself. I think that once another woman looks at all this,” I say, moving my hand up and down to motion my body, “you are going to do what girls do and that is to take out the claws and start laying claim.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “You really think that highly of yourself.” She continues, “How’s this? Tomorrow I’m going to go to yoga with ‘friends’. You should come,” she says, getting off her chair, grabbing her plate, and going to put the plate in the sink.
I grab her around her waist, bringing her flush to me.
“Friends don’t stick their penises in other friends’ stomachs.”
Tempt The Playboy Page 9