Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Delicious.”
“Can you taste the crawfish?”
“I can. It’s…rich.”
“We’ll have to go to a crawfish boil while we’re here. Crawfish is delicious in étouffée, but you can’t beat it by itself with just a little bit of drawn butter. So good.”
“I feel like you’re trying to fatten me up on this trip,” I joke.
“I like a little meat on a woman, Mary.” He gives me a wink.
“I’m at a weight that works for me,” I say.
“Oh yes.” He burns me with his gaze. “It definitely works for you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ronan
Our next course is Mémé’s famous red beans and rice, and she adds a spicy kick to it.
My bright idea was to introduce Mary to the best of Creole cuisine, but we’re only on plate number four, and now I just want to be alone with her.
I don’t even know what to expect. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want a scene. That’s not where her head is at these days.
That will change. Already I know this. But I won’t force it. I’m not that kind of a Dominant. I don’t get off on forcing my submissive to do something she doesn’t want to do.
No.
What draws me to domination is the control. The control I never had as a child who wanted nothing more than to have his parents home for more than a few days at a time.
I learned what I didn’t want as an adult. No family, no children. Simply a relationship where I was in control and I called the shots. Never would I put a child through that feeling that he wasn’t important to the two people who were supposed to love him the most.
I’ve already got a hard-on underneath the table. And being in jeans instead of my kilt…it’s damned uncomfortable.
“Something I recognize,” Mary says. “This is red beans and rice.”
“Good eye.”
She smiles coyly. “Not so good. I recognize red beans, and I recognize rice. Plus there’s some sausage, too. Is it andouille?”
“The one and only.”
Mary has only taken a few sips of her wine. She’s serious about not drinking too much. I respect that a lot.
“This wine is going to be great with red beans and rice, and of course also with the jambalaya that comes next.”
“I’m glad these are small servings,” she says. “Or I’d be done by now.”
“That’s what a tasting menu is. A series of small plates.”
“It’s been great, Ronan. Really. I can’t thank you enough.”
“No thanks are necessary. I’m happy to do it.”
She gazes at me then, her head slightly cocked, her eyes slightly narrowed.
She’s wondering what I expect in return.
She’ll be surprised to know I expect nothing.
But I do hope…
I want to get her in bed so badly. I’ll engage in vanilla sex if that’s what it takes. Me on top of her, thrusting into her sweet little cunt.
I take a bite of my red beans and rice. There’s no cream in the dish, but it always has a creamy taste to me. Creamy, spicy, delectable.
Same as I imagine Mary’s pussy will taste.
My God…
I look at her then. “Would you like to get out of here?”
“But this is only the fourth course.”
“True. And I can’t disappoint my grandmother.”
“Why are you in such a hurry, Ronan?”
“I want to be alone with you, Mary. If that’s not what you want, I can accept that. But it’s what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on you.”
She looks down, pushes her red beans and rice around on the small plate. “Ronan…I don’t know that I’m ready to go there. A scene.”
“I just want to be alone with you. I didn’t say we need to have sex. Or play. Or do a scene.”
Of course, that’s what I ultimately desire. But with Mary, I wouldn’t mind strolling through the seamy side of the New Orleans underbelly. Showing her where the vampires live, where the ghosts haunt.
She takes a bite of her red beans and rice. “Delicious. I’m not sure which is my favorite. I guess if I had to choose, I’d say the crawfish. This is a close second. Along with the shrimp and the turtle soup. Which I guess is everything.”
“That’s the marvel of Creole cuisine. It’s all so delicious, you don’t really have favorites. It’s funny that Mémé didn’t prepare shrimp Creole tonight. That’s one of my favorites.”
“You mean you didn’t request it?”
“No. I just asked her to put together an eight-course meal showcasing her best, and I have to admit, she is doing that.”
“So jambalaya is next?” Mary says after swallowing her bite of red beans and rice.
“Yes. And then fried catfish and grillades and grits. Dessert will be Mémé’s famous bread pudding.”
“Not bananas foster?”
“Bananas foster is delicious and originated here in New Orleans, but bread pudding is more of a Creole favorite. Mémé does it like no other. Her whiskey sauce is legendary.”