Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 41016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
I pulled my keys from my pocket and unlocked the door, smiling at the dance music and the delicious scents wafting from the kitchen.
“Hey, babe. Mission accomplished. I have the sprouts.”
“Perfect timing. Help!”
I found Aaron standing on the counter with a huge bag of rice in his hands.
“What are you doing?” I took the rice from him, almost staggering under its weight. “Damn, this is heavy. Don’t move. I’ll get you next.”
I dumped the bag on the counter next to the stove and picked Aaron up, hugging him around his waist as I drew him close and set him on the floor.
He propped his arms on my shoulders and rubbed up against me. “My hero.”
I kissed him breathless, slipping my fingers under his T-shirt. I moved my hands to his ass and bent my knees to line my cock with his. I doubted we had time for even a quickie, but I was always willing to try. “Fuck, I want you.”
Aaron sucked my bottom lip and gently pushed out of my arms. “You are a horndog, sir.”
“I like it when you call me sir,” I snickered, adjusting my semi.
“And I love that about you, but I’m an orchestra leader conducting a tightly run symphony of flavors.” He swayed his hips as he added seasoning to a pan.
I stood behind him and kissed his neck. “Smells good. What’s happening here?”
“Sofrito and paella and a veggie dish. I wasn’t sure if I had enough rice, though.”
I pointed at the bag of rice, stepping aside to pluck a banana from the fruit bowl. “I think you have more than enough. And what’s with climbing on counters? Please tell me you don’t do that when I’m not home.”
“Of course, I do. I’ve been climbing counters and grocery store displays my whole life. You get very good at it when you’re vertically challenged. I’m putting a super-sized pantry on our wish list when we meet with the kitchen designer next month.” He frowned as if trying to remember something, then opened another cupboard and pointed at the top shelf. “Will you grab that can for me too, please?”
I handed over the can and stepped aside, chomping the banana and humming occasionally as he briefed me on the menu and timeline for the evening. Peter and Jay and the twins, Curt and Jack, Seth and Paul, Jason and Chels and their son, Walker. Home-cooked Puerto Rican fare and friends…easy. Our pint-sized guests were the wild cards, but there were enough adults to help out.
“Sounds good. What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just stand there eating that banana like a porn star and tell me about LA. Did you say you might have to fly out this week?”
“Maybe. It’s a last-minute deal, though. Hughes needs me for a two-hour meeting. I’m going to suggest we do it on a Zoom call. We were just there two weeks ago, and I hate wasting time in the air. Unless you want to come with me?” I offered, making sure I had his attention when I opened my mouth obscenely over the banana.
Aaron widened his eyes. “You’ve gotten very good at dirty talk, Mr. Mendez-Sullivan. I’d love to come with you.”
I snorted at his dreamy tone and pinched his ass. “I’ll figure out my schedule tomorrow. I don’t want to think about work tonight.”
I had to admit, though—it was going very well.
A year ago, I’d signed my contract to become an equity partner at Lawton, Hughes, Banks, and Kelleford, DC. But get this.…I’d signed a second contract six months later for Hughes, Kelleford, and Mendez-Sullivan, LA shortly after I passed the California bar exam.
When I was freaking out about potentially moving again last year, it occurred to me that there had to be another angle. Virtual meetings were the norm these days. So, I proposed doing some remote work for Hughes’ new office, hoping the compromise might boost my position within the firm. Hughes agreed to give it a try.
I became an expert at writing entertainment contracts and so far, I’d successfully balanced it with my regular workload in DC. So well, they’d agreed to put my name on the stationery. With any luck, I’d make the building soon.
Aaron’s business was going well too. His clientele had grown, which meant he’d had to hire a small team of fashion bloggers. Oh, and he’d started a podcast too. Chic Talk. Once a week, he brought designers, photographers, models, and behind-the-scenes folks on his show to discuss trends and pour tea? Hey, don’t ask me. I wasn’t a hundred percent clear. I just knew he had sponsors, big-name guests, and a decent following.
He went into the city with me once a week to record his podcast and tag along on whatever photo shoot had been made available to him. And he almost always accompanied me on my monthly trips to the West Coast.