Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“You’re really talented at cooking.”
Rob chuckled good-naturedly, putting on an apron over his clothes. He looked a little comical because the apron was red and white checked, with frills on the edges, but then again, who was I to say anything? This man was making me dinner, and if he wanted to wear a clown suit while doing so, I’d happily agree.
The rest of dinner was fine. I ate a plate of slightly over-cooked spaghetti, as well as some veggies which had no seasoning. I know that some folks are really into health and wellness, but I need my baked veggies with a tiny dash of salt. Unfortunately, Rob is into this no-salt thing, and so there was none on hand.
“You don’t have some in your cupboard?” I asked, curiously. “Not even a tiny bit?”
Rob shook his head proudly.
“Nope, none at all. I’ve banished it in my cooking because salt puts your kidneys through a lot,” he said in a serious voice. “I’ve been reading a lot on Gwyneth Paltrow’s site Goop, and she says that she doesn’t eat anything with salt anymore. She’s amazing,” he continues, as if the actress is the next Gandhi.
I try to keep from laughing. If I followed Goop’s advice, I’d be an avowed vegan, and also putting those marble vaginal eggs into my pussy for “enhanced female well-being.” Weren’t they sued over false claims relating to those eggs, or something like that? Well, it isn’t my business. I merely nodded again.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said, putting down my fork. “This was delicious.
Rob jerked a bit, as if realizing we were now onto Scene Two of our date. He leapt up, whipped off the apron, and then turned down the lights to create a romantic atmosphere. Light jazz sounded through the speakers, and I smiled to myself. This man definitely wanted to get down to business.
To tell you the truth, I was okay with that. As a single mom, I don’t have a lot of time to get out. My baby keeps me so busy that I barely have any time to myself. Only recently had I started dating again, and now, I’m much more goal-oriented. If a guy wants to go to home base immediately, I’m okay with that, so long as he’s reasonable-looking and mentally sane. After all, I only have the babysitter until ten p.m., so there’s no time to dilly-dally.
Sometimes I feel a little sad it’s like this. Before I had Danny, dating used to be such a production. I’d ponder what to wear for hours, and often agonized about my hair, make-up and jewelry. But now, my son is often clinging to my leg as I get ready to go out, so I’m able to do everything within ten minutes. I’ve become an expert at applying make-up and styling hair while also fishing out Danny’s toy from under the couch, or cleaning up his spilled milk with one hand while putting on mascara with the other.
Now, as Rob made his move, I forced myself not to laugh. He kind of waltzed over to me in time to the jazz music, and took my hand before pulling me up from the chair.
“A beautiful woman on a beautiful night,” he sang, staring deep into my eyes. Again, it took a bit of effort not to laugh, but I managed to hold the giggles in. Evidently, he believed that in order to seduce a woman, he had to act like an over-the-top Casanova, what with kissing my hand while swaying in time to the beat.
But I let him take the lead. I haven’t been laid since before Danny was born. His dad and I broke up when we found out I was pregnant, and it wasn’t an easy pregnancy. The whole thing is an ugly story and I wish it had turned out otherwise, but let’s just say I’m better off without that loser, even if we did conceive the love of my life.
Anyways, back to Rob. He pulled me over to the couch while shooting coy looks over one shoulder. Then he pulled me down and descended on my face like a ravenous bear. Really, it was animal-like, and not Romeo-like. He pressed sloppy wet kisses all over my cheeks, my ear, my jaw, and my nose before finally hitting my mouth. Then, the man gave me what he probably thought was the equivalent of a French kiss, but instead his tongue felt like a slimy, thick slug in my mouth. Eeek.
But I managed to accept his caresses with a modicum of grace. I even played along, throwing out a couple moans and tossing my head as if I loved having saliva slobbered all over my cheeks. Rob took that as encouragement, and went at it even harder, moving down so that he could bite at my breast through my blouse.