Read Online Learning Curves 1 - French Cooking 101 by Olivia Rigal - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Olivia Rigal
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creative you became last night after we ran out.”
❦
Walking back from the corner pharmacy that closed at ten p.m., an amazing exception to the customary six or seven p.m. closing time of all shops in Paris, George tried to analyze how he felt about Mary. Obviously, he was attracted to her. His immediate physical reaction to her first touch had made that clear. What he found fascinating was that, in about twenty-four hours, his brain had caught up with his body.
He really liked her. He liked the way she made everything seem uncomplicated. He liked the way she communicated with him. Whether it was with words, sounds, or movements, she made him understand what she wanted and how she felt. Somehow, that gave him confidence that their few days together could be the beginning of something serious. He had little time to test his theory, so few days for her to be his only work-in-progress, until Monday morning.
Reaching his landing, he realized she had left the door slightly ajar. He walked in, slammed the door shut, and found her naked, lying on her stomach on his bed, reading one of his earlier books—the one on the life of Mary Stuart.
“So I’m not the first Mary in your life,” she said without turning her head away from the book. “I’ve always liked her. Such a tragic life. I like your style.”
“I certainly hope so.” He chuckled as he removed his clothes.
“I was talking about your writing style,” she answered, laughing. “I thought you’d appreciate knowing that I consider you more than a warm body.”
“Warm body?” He drew each syllable out in mock anger. “Just a warm body!”
She turned around and watched him, naked and fighting with the box of condoms. The plastic wrapper put up a valiant resistance, but it wouldn’t last long. “Okay, let’s say a very hot body.”
“Uh uh, that’s better, but not even close to what I want you to think.” He smirked as the box blew open and condoms flew out in every direction.
Mary caught one, tore open the foil, and with a poker face, she asked, “What adjective would fit your gigantic ego? Sizzling? Amazing?”
“That’s starting to sound a bit better.” George lay down beside her.
Mary bent over to roll the latex down on his manhood. It had stood erect since the second he walked in and saw her naked on his bed. She looked at his face. “I could be talked into using more laudative adjectives if you convince me that last night was not an unusual performance. You know, the thrill of the first time and all.”
With a deep rumble, he said, “I think that can be arranged.” He pushed her onto her back and found his way between her legs. Resisting the urge to dive in right away, he took things slow. He nibbled each breast until they pebbled and turned a gentle pink and then a redder hue. With a trail of kisses, he went down to her belly button.
Making soothing sounds, he pushed down on her hips when she raised her lower body to meet him. He kissed and licked the inside of her thighs, getting closer to her folds every time but never reaching them. Only when moans of frustration escaped her lips did he taste her. Her moans turned to whimpers and then to sobs. The sounds she made made him feel powerful, almost invincible, as if he could achieve anything he set his mind to.
What he wanted was for her to create new words to describe how he made her feel. He wanted to inspire her. He let her desire build. Resisting the urge to plunge into her was getting harder by the minute. He gave in when she pulled his face up to hers, almost tearing two fistfuls of hair from his skull.
She only stopped chanting “Please, please, please” when he plunged into her. He rested the weight of his upper body on his arms for fear of crushing her. He felt her inner walls clutching him. He lost all pretense of control when she pulled his shoulders down against her, saying with ragged breath, “Hold me tight. I’m not fragile. You won’t
❦
Walking back from the corner pharmacy that closed at ten p.m., an amazing exception to the customary six or seven p.m. closing time of all shops in Paris, George tried to analyze how he felt about Mary. Obviously, he was attracted to her. His immediate physical reaction to her first touch had made that clear. What he found fascinating was that, in about twenty-four hours, his brain had caught up with his body.
He really liked her. He liked the way she made everything seem uncomplicated. He liked the way she communicated with him. Whether it was with words, sounds, or movements, she made him understand what she wanted and how she felt. Somehow, that gave him confidence that their few days together could be the beginning of something serious. He had little time to test his theory, so few days for her to be his only work-in-progress, until Monday morning.
Reaching his landing, he realized she had left the door slightly ajar. He walked in, slammed the door shut, and found her naked, lying on her stomach on his bed, reading one of his earlier books—the one on the life of Mary Stuart.
“So I’m not the first Mary in your life,” she said without turning her head away from the book. “I’ve always liked her. Such a tragic life. I like your style.”
“I certainly hope so.” He chuckled as he removed his clothes.
“I was talking about your writing style,” she answered, laughing. “I thought you’d appreciate knowing that I consider you more than a warm body.”
“Warm body?” He drew each syllable out in mock anger. “Just a warm body!”
She turned around and watched him, naked and fighting with the box of condoms. The plastic wrapper put up a valiant resistance, but it wouldn’t last long. “Okay, let’s say a very hot body.”
“Uh uh, that’s better, but not even close to what I want you to think.” He smirked as the box blew open and condoms flew out in every direction.
Mary caught one, tore open the foil, and with a poker face, she asked, “What adjective would fit your gigantic ego? Sizzling? Amazing?”
“That’s starting to sound a bit better.” George lay down beside her.
Mary bent over to roll the latex down on his manhood. It had stood erect since the second he walked in and saw her naked on his bed. She looked at his face. “I could be talked into using more laudative adjectives if you convince me that last night was not an unusual performance. You know, the thrill of the first time and all.”
With a deep rumble, he said, “I think that can be arranged.” He pushed her onto her back and found his way between her legs. Resisting the urge to dive in right away, he took things slow. He nibbled each breast until they pebbled and turned a gentle pink and then a redder hue. With a trail of kisses, he went down to her belly button.
Making soothing sounds, he pushed down on her hips when she raised her lower body to meet him. He kissed and licked the inside of her thighs, getting closer to her folds every time but never reaching them. Only when moans of frustration escaped her lips did he taste her. Her moans turned to whimpers and then to sobs. The sounds she made made him feel powerful, almost invincible, as if he could achieve anything he set his mind to.
What he wanted was for her to create new words to describe how he made her feel. He wanted to inspire her. He let her desire build. Resisting the urge to plunge into her was getting harder by the minute. He gave in when she pulled his face up to hers, almost tearing two fistfuls of hair from his skull.
She only stopped chanting “Please, please, please” when he plunged into her. He rested the weight of his upper body on his arms for fear of crushing her. He felt her inner walls clutching him. He lost all pretense of control when she pulled his shoulders down against her, saying with ragged breath, “Hold me tight. I’m not fragile. You won’t
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