“Long day?” I asked, washing my hands and tossing the vegetables into the olive oil heating in the pan.
“Tiring, but in a good way.”
Tara told me how she and Pia had worked the tasting room together today and yesterday and how their sales were triple what they were the week before.
“She said we are a good team.”
“I would have to agree. The two of you seemed to hit it off right off the bat.”
The haunted look in her eyes was fleeting, but I saw it and wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“What about tomorrow? Are the two of you working together again?”
She took a drink of her wine and shook her head. “I’m off tomorrow since I’m working all weekend.”
“Any idea what you’ll do?”
“I’m going into Florence.”
“For?”
“Sto visitando il Museo Nazionale di San Marco,” she said in flawless Italian.
“That was so fucking sexy,” I murmured, resting both my hands on the kitchen island where just two nights ago, she’d been spread out, showing me her tits.
Tara smiled and came around to where I was cooking. “Um, I think you might want to turn the heat down a little.”
Heat? Down? What did she say? I looked at the pan in front of me and at the edges of the vegetables that were turning black. “Oh. Right.” I turned the burner off.
She laughed. “What just happened?”
“Flashbacks,” I said, pointing to the counter with my spatula.
“Yeah?” she asked, looking down at where my rock-hard cock strained my zipper.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Tell you what. You give me a taste, and I’ll reciprocate.”
I looked up at her, and she motioned with her head to the pan. “A mushroom, please.”
I grabbed a fork, speared one, and brought it to her mouth.
“Mmm. That tastes so good. Your turn. What do you want to try?”
Was she really saying what I thought she was? Unable to speak, I motioned to her tits with the fork.
“This?” she asked, pointing where I had.
I nodded. Maybe I grunted. I know I groaned when she pulled her shirt over her head and I saw her breasts were bare beneath it.
I put one arm around her back and leaned forward, getting as much of her tit in my mouth as I could. I swirled my tongue around her nipple. Tara weaved her fingers in my hair, and when I went to move to the other breast, she pulled.
“Uh-uh. My turn.”
I stood and, since I’d suddenly gone mute, pointed at the pan of veggies.
“A pepper, please.”