cooking by myself, but I didn’t want to be rude to Ethan. I gave in to the offer since I didn’t want to be impolite. “You could grate the cheese,” I told him as I motioned to the fridge. “I need the Monterey Jack, oh and get out the sour cream as well.” I slipped into chef mode as I directed him to do my bidding. He opened the door and I heard the drawers sliding open as he gathered the ingredients. He looked over at me where I stood scraping the board off into the pan.
“Mmm. Suisse’s?”
“Yep. I felt like Mexican.” He set the items down and opened the cabinet in front of him. He pulled out the bowl I always used for mixing up the creamy sauce I poured on the enchiladas. “How did you know that I needed that bowl?” I asked him curiously.
“You always use this bowl. Actually, I always use this bowl because it’s alway s my job to mix up the sauce.”
I stared at him for a moment. Just how many times have we stood here making this dish together? Obviously he had done this enough times to recognize the dish by the ingredients. No one ever helped me cook in my home kitchen. This is where I come to relax. I never even liked John to be in here when I cooked us dinner. I didn’t mind Carrie so much, she just sat on a stool at the island and talked to me, but to have Ethan be so familiar and me not actually minding that much was peculiar.
“Uh, then I guess you know what to do,” I said lamely. He reached over to grab wooden spoon from the container in front of me. He smelled amazing. The combination of his cologne and his manliness, mixed with the smells of the kitchen were like a trinity of awesomeness.
He took the grater out of the drawer and started on the cheese. I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearm. They were taut and well defined, but not bulging like some weight lifter or something. Mmm. I pulled myself out of my momentary daze and got back to work on my food.
Before I knew it, I was popping the pan of enchiladas into the oven. Ethan and I had worked mostly in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It would have been harder for me to try and make conversation. I was just giving myself a mental break and concentrating on my dish.
I started cleaning up the huge mess that always accompanied this recipe, and that’s when it happened. I was standing at the sink and rinsing out a bowl and I turned to pick up the dish cloth from the counter and found myself chest to chest with Ethan. I wasn’t wearing a bra so as soon as my nipples scraped against him they stood to attention. I don’t know what made me do it, but I pressed my face into his chest and sniffed his shirt. It smelled so good that I leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan and I jerked my head back.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually sniff him? Oh god, what am I doing with him? He’s too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than him, maybe more like a bob cat.
What had possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your things.”
One of my things? Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak have I become? I must have looked horrified or something because he stepped closer. “I love it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was
“Mmm. Suisse’s?”
“Yep. I felt like Mexican.” He set the items down and opened the cabinet in front of him. He pulled out the bowl I always used for mixing up the creamy sauce I poured on the enchiladas. “How did you know that I needed that bowl?” I asked him curiously.
“You always use this bowl. Actually, I always use this bowl because it’s alway s my job to mix up the sauce.”
I stared at him for a moment. Just how many times have we stood here making this dish together? Obviously he had done this enough times to recognize the dish by the ingredients. No one ever helped me cook in my home kitchen. This is where I come to relax. I never even liked John to be in here when I cooked us dinner. I didn’t mind Carrie so much, she just sat on a stool at the island and talked to me, but to have Ethan be so familiar and me not actually minding that much was peculiar.
“Uh, then I guess you know what to do,” I said lamely. He reached over to grab wooden spoon from the container in front of me. He smelled amazing. The combination of his cologne and his manliness, mixed with the smells of the kitchen were like a trinity of awesomeness.
He took the grater out of the drawer and started on the cheese. I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearm. They were taut and well defined, but not bulging like some weight lifter or something. Mmm. I pulled myself out of my momentary daze and got back to work on my food.
Before I knew it, I was popping the pan of enchiladas into the oven. Ethan and I had worked mostly in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It would have been harder for me to try and make conversation. I was just giving myself a mental break and concentrating on my dish.
I started cleaning up the huge mess that always accompanied this recipe, and that’s when it happened. I was standing at the sink and rinsing out a bowl and I turned to pick up the dish cloth from the counter and found myself chest to chest with Ethan. I wasn’t wearing a bra so as soon as my nipples scraped against him they stood to attention. I don’t know what made me do it, but I pressed my face into his chest and sniffed his shirt. It smelled so good that I leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan and I jerked my head back.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually sniff him? Oh god, what am I doing with him? He’s too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than him, maybe more like a bob cat.
What had possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your things.”
One of my things? Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak have I become? I must have looked horrified or something because he stepped closer. “I love it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was
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