“Do you want wine?” he whispers against my ear and my thighs clench together.

“Y—yes please,” I stutter out. “There’s a bottle of white in the pantry. I’ll also need some for this.” I say then feel his lips trail down the side of my neck to my shoulder where my sweater has slid off before his warmth leaves my back.

A few minutes later he places a glass of wine next to me along with the bottle. I add what I need to the cooking risotto, then stir as I sip from my glass while he leans against the counter next to me. Just listening to him talk on the phone, the wine in my stomach and the repetitive stirring of the rice after I’ve added the chicken stock is just what I need to relax, and clear my head.

“How long until it’s done?” he asks, stepping behind me and looking over my shoulder when he hangs up his call.

“A while, it’s a process.” I glance over at him as he slides his hand around my waist leaving it to rest on my stomach.

“It smells good.”

“It’s one of my favorite comfort foods,” I tell him, focusing back on my task. “You mentioned on your call that you have to go on a trip?”

“I need to fly down to Florida for a couple of days to close on a building I just purchased there.”

“Oh,” I say quietly, feeling more disappointed than I should that he’s going to be going out of town. “Do you travel a lot for work?”

“A couple times a month, depending on what’s going on.”

“So that’s what you do, purchase buildings around the US?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but essentially, yes.” His fingers slip under the bottom of my tank top causing the muscles in my lower belly to twist and dance while he keeps hold of my hip with his other hand.

“H-how d—did you get into that?” I get out on a strangled breath.

“Albert.” His lips trail up my neck while his large palm moves up my stomach, coming to rest just under my breast.

“Clay,” I breathe as his teeth nip my ear.

“Keep focused baby, you don’t want to fuck up dinner.” He cups my breast while his other hand slides forward then down under the band of my sweats. How he expects me to keep focused on anything but the way his hands feel on me, I do not get. Not when his fingers slip under the edge of the lace panties I’m wearing and smooth over my pubic bone, and his hand cupping my breast tightens. “You’re so soft.” His warm breath brushes against my ear making my toes curl. “Let’s see if you’re wet.” His fingers dip lower and brush across my clit causing me to gasp. “Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this, wanted you at my mercy?”

“Ohh—” I lift up on my tiptoes when he suddenly fills me with two thick fingers.