Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
He was wearing oven mitts that looked like sharks and carrying a dinner plate, which was covered with an inverted metal mixing bowl. I grinned when he lifted the DIY cloche, revealing a grilled cheese sandwich that had been cut into one-inch circles with a cookie cutter. That was accompanied by a side of sweet potato fries.
“I briefly considered tryin’ to roll some rice around the fries to make something resembling sushi,” he said, “but I figured that’d end in disaster, so I went with this instead.”
“Good call.”
As we started on our entrees, he commented, “You’re a pro at working those chopsticks.” My meal had come with a disposable wooden pair, and I was using them to lightly dip the sushi into a small cup of soy sauce. Meanwhile, he’d poured a pool of ranch dressing onto his plate and was dipping the fries into it. He really was mirroring me in his own way.
“My dad taught me how to use them when I was little.”
“It must have been cool to grow up with traditions from both of your parents’ cultures.”
“Dad was all about passing down his traditions, but Mom really wanted to acclimate to life in the US and tried to let go of her past. I always thought it was sad that she didn’t want to pass on her family’s traditions, but at least she taught me Spanish.”
“Are you fluent in Japanese, too?” When I nodded, he said, “That’s impressive. I don’t know anyone else who’s trilingual.”
I shrugged. “It’s easy to learn multiple languages when you grow up with them.”
“My Gran taught me a little Spanish. I’m pretty rusty, though.”
“You mentioned she immigrated from Mexico. Did she teach you any of her family’s traditions?”
“A few. They mostly have to do with food. Like, every Christmas, I make a whole mountain of tamales and give a bunch to my friends. I think she’d be happy to know I kept that tradition alive.”
“I love tamales. When I was growing up in Southern California, I used to buy them from this lady who lived in our apartment building. It would be really cool to know how to make them.”
“I’d be happy to show you my Gran’s version. If you want to, we can make them when you visit over spring break.” He quickly added, “No pressure, though. I know you’re still not sure if you can get away.”
Right then and there, I made a decision. “I’m definitely coming. I think the change of scenery will do me good, and I really want to spend time with you.”
His face lit up in a gorgeous smile. “Leave everything to me. I’ll buy your plane tickets, and I’ll see if my ranch hand can work some extra hours. That way, we can take our time when I show you Austin. I think you’ll like it.”
After he named a bunch of local attractions we could visit, I said, “Or we could just stay in bed all week.”
He paused with the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “Yeah?”
“We barely got started in Vegas. Ever since then, I’ve been fantasizing about you.”
“I’ve been fantasizing about you, too.” He seemed surprisingly shy when he admitted that, but then he said, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“Deal.”
He covered his plate with the bowl, probably to keep Sally out of the leftover ranch dressing, and picked up his laptop. “I’m going to move someplace without four dogs as an audience.”
While he hurried through his house, I moved to the bed with my laptop and got comfortable. Finally, he reached his bedroom and shut the door behind him. As he took a seat on the bed, he asked, “Where were we?”
“I believe I was about to tell you I jerked off in the shower this morning, while daydreaming about you pounding my ass.”
“I did the same thing this morning, while imagining I was fucking you. I came so hard that I had to sit down on the edge of the tub for a minute.”
“That’s quite the coincidence, thinking about the same thing at the same time.”
“I think about that most mornings,” he admitted, with a self-conscious grin.
“Same. Not all of my fantasies are that straightforward, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
I nodded and leaned back against the pillows. “Before I say anything else, I want you to know I don’t actually have a cowboy fetish.”
That made him chuckle. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to totally disprove that?”
“Okay, so maybe some of my recent fantasies have involved boots, cowboy hats, and rope. But that’s your fault. I never thought that stuff was sexy until I met you.”
“So what you’re saying is, when we get ready to do it, I should leave my hat and boots on and tie you to the bed. Got it.” His dark eyes were sparkling, and he looked like he was amused.