His First Time: Sterling: A Hot Shot of Romance Quickie by Callie Love & Ann Omasta

Author:Callie Love & Ann Omasta [Love, Callie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

7

Savannah

I can’t stop smiling as I follow Sterling to his enormous, beautiful kitchen. Even if his words are purely due to the afterglow of our intense lovemaking, he said he loves me.

If this is all part of his womanizing game, he may still end up dumping me tomorrow, but the memories of this perfect night will last a lifetime. No one can ever take these magnificent moments from me.

Sterling surprises me by opening his stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator and standing in front of it, before offering, “I can make us scrambled eggs and bacon. My secret recipe is to add sharp cheddar cheese to the eggs. They usually turn out really tasty.”

I blink at him, not quite able to believe how great he is. Most men assume that I will cook for them, due to my occupation. I like it that he doesn’t expect it from me. Sidling up next to him, I offer, “How about if I make you something?”

His face immediately brightens. “I love the food at your restaurant, so I’m sure anything you come up with will be infinitely better than my own cooking.”

I begin poking around his kitchen checking for ingredients. When I pull a loaf of bread out of his cupboard, I can’t keep the disgusted look off my face. “What are the brown spots in this bread––mouse turds?”

He looks utterly amused by my question. “No, those would be raisins.”

I stare at him with utter disbelief before asking. “And you bought this on purpose?!?”

He’s grinning at me as he answers. “I did. I take it you aren’t a fan of raisins?”

After giving an exaggerated shudder, I say, “Shriveled up, nearly-dead grapes? Yuck, no! I would prefer thinking it is mouse poop. I can’t trust someone who purposely eats raisins in his bread.”

I grin at him as he tips his head back and bellows with laughter at my over-the-top reaction. Once his laughter subsides, he says, “No more raisins. Got it.”

“You can eat them, if you want. Just don’t make me watch… or tell me about it. In fact, I don’t ever want to think about it again.” Deciding to go all in, I add, “And here I was thinking you were Mister Perfect.”

“Is that so?” He raises his brows before leaning in to give me a toe-curling kiss.

When we finally break apart, I snap my fingers and say, “I know exactly what we should eat, and it only takes two ingredients. Go relax on the sofa while I get it ready.”

He looks as excited as a young boy running to his presents under the tree on Christmas morning as he jumps over the back of the couch to comply with my request.

When I emerge from the kitchen, carrying our snack, he says, “That didn’t take lon––”

His sentence cuts off when he gets a look at what I’ve brought for us to eat. He quirks a brow at me before asking, “How many years did you spend in culinary school?”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” I warn him as I set the ingredients down on the coffee table.

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