“I wonder if it makes a difference,” Lacey muttered out loud. She studied each of the spice jars giving her a hard time. One had a label that said poultry seasoning and the other said Thanksgiving Spice.
Uncapping both she gave a quick sniff to be sure one wasn’t masquerading as pumpkin spices.
“Boo. The same.”
She tapped a manicured nail on her pursed lips and thought back through every session of Thanksgiving prep Ria, and Carmen gave her.
Was she overthinking it? Definitely! Anyone in her position would. Not only was she making Thanksgiving for her and Cameron, but this occasion also marked her debut as a hostess, and she just had to get it right.
Leaning against the kitchen island, she ended up bent over with her tummy on the marble as she shuffled through her recipe printouts.
“And what do we have here?” A deep, manly voice oozing sex appeal asked.
A warm hand ran up her left leg and caressed her bare bottom. She was naked except for a pair of naughty heels and a frilly bib-style apron. Turning slowly, by the time she faced him her lip was chewed, puffy and sore.
As it did so often, her heart did a little happy dance when she saw him. Cameron Justice was the most handsome man on this or any other planet. His dark hair with its long casual style gave the man a swashbuckling look that fired up her fantasies. Soulful eyes that saw straight into her heart stared back at her. She sighed. He was just so doggone beautiful.
And then his lips quivered. Cameron flashing a smile was a guaranteed panty melter.
“Thought I’d help stuff the bird,” he sniggered.
“Innuendo intentional?” She inquired.
“You know it!”
“We already made love, remember?” She put on a complete performance of eye rolls, lip wetting, crossed arms, and stoic sighs.
“This is true. The journal entry for today will begin with – Our First Thanksgiving. Something to be grateful for; we woke up and made love.”
He pressed her back against the island. She loved how perfectly their bodies fit. Because she was cooking her hair was up, so he had no trouble undoing the tie on the apron’s bib.
“We’re keeping a journal?” She asked the question in a breathy murmur due in large part to his beautiful hands helping themselves to her boobs.
“We are now,” he laughed. “And since we want our first major holiday together to be memorable, we should think about what we’re doing.”
She arched a brow and smirked.
“Gather content. You know. Performance material.”
“Mm-hmm. Content. Got it.”
His mouth was on her breasts doing wicked things. Cameron knew just how to touch her and what enflamed her senses. Lacey experienced a dizzying rush when he pulled the entire end of one boob into his wildly sucking mouth. Her knees wobbled slightly. The sound she heard was her moan.
He did more things to both breasts until she was a quivering mess. Then and only then did he wrap his big hand around her neck and kiss her. His busy tongue and wicked hands drove her crazy.
When she was on fire and fighting for oxygen, he chuckled triumphantly and sat her on the empty island. She lay back on her recipes, and he wasted no time spreading open her thighs.
“Journal entry number two. Time to kiss the cook. On her pussy lips.”
It was all kinds of decadent and exciting to be naked save for hooker heels and an apron around her waist that was quickly shoved out of the way so her demanding lover could devour her. She was a wet mess. He held her legs open and gorged with animalistic passion.
It was so beautiful and perfect that she shot quickly into the stratosphere where an orgasm waited for her.
She heard slurping noises and his grunts every time her excitement grew. In no time at all, she fell apart and grasped his head. Bucking she ground onto his marauding tongue until a silent scream and a freakishly powerful climax tore her apart.
When she came back to earth, he helped her sit up and slide from the island counter. The apron’s bib hung her down her front, and she wasn’t exactly steady on her feet. Cameron was grinning like a proud idiot as he washed his hands and face at the sink.
“My favorite protein supplement.”
She pursed her lips and pretended outrage. “All well and good for you but how am I supposed to cook a darn turkey now that you’ve distracted me?”
“Easy,” he told her. “Just think about riding my dick while I sit in that chair you like so much.”
She snorted. Was he serious?
“And how exactly is that supposed to be helpful?”
He turned her around, pulled up the bib and tied the ends around her neck. Then he helped himself to a handful of her ass as he leaned close and growled, “Because you can’t have my dick until after our feast.”
Well, Cheese Whiz on a cracker! He had a good argument.
Whipping around, she kissed him quickly and then pushed on his chest to get him moving.
“Then you better scram, buster. I have turkey day feast to make, and you are in the way.”
She watched her gorgeous man head into the great room and turn the TV on. “Hey, look! A replay of the Macy’s Parade.”
He plopped onto the sofa with the remote in his hand and turned his attention to the colorful parade on the big screen.
Looking around at the turkey feast supplies, Lacey smiled to herself. She could do this. Grabbing the instructions labeled with thick black letters reading Step One, she started.
“One fabulous, romantic Thanksgiving Feast, coming up.”
Copyright Suzanne Halliday 2017