Something’s Cooking

After our explosive lovemaking on the afternoon when I ran into Mishael, we have been seeing each other on the sly. No one was privy to our coffee kisses and steamy charades. We hid our affair very well. Around others, we were friendly towards each other but when we were alone, we were all over each other.

There were times when I felt guilty because he was in a relationship with my best friend’s sister, Cheryl but I just couldn’t help myself. I was mad about him. We couldn’t fight our attraction for each other. It was too strong.

We saw each other as often as his busy schedule permitted and sometimes he spent the night. My apartment always felt lonely without him. I wished he could move in with me or I with him but it wasn’t possible, not as long as he was still with Cheryl.

I wondered if she and he were still sleeping together and if she spent some nights or weekends at his place and vice versa. The thought made me crazy with jealousy. I hated sharing him. I wanted to be the only one he was having sex with.

I tried not to think about him with Cheryl and just enjoyed him when he was with me, making the most of the times we spent together. I loved it when we chill on the sofa, making up naughty adjectives and tawdry tales. Things would soon get hot and steamy and we would end up making love in the living-room or making a bee line for the bedroom.

I often wonder what Janine would do if she only knew that I was having an affair with her sister’s man. She would probably be shocked and upset and our friendship would be over. I can’t say that I would blame her. If the tables were turned, I would be livid too. I tell myself that sometimes, we can’t control the things that happen in our lives.

I didn’t set out to fall in love with another woman’s man but it happened. I would love to do the right thing and end my relationship with him but I can’t. I can’t imagine not seeing him or being with him. It sounds selfish but isn’t that what love is? Okay, that’s not totally true. Love isn’t selfish unless it’s the kind where you want to be with someone even though you know that it would hurt someone else.

I try to put myself in Cheryl’s shoes and imagine how I would feel if someone I know was sleeping with my man but then, my heart would get in the way of my conscience. And when I’m with him, I can’t think of anything else. My moral compass gets all out of whack whenever we are together. I get lost in my feelings and passions for this incredible man who just has to look at me with those sexy eyes of his, and I’m putty in his hands.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupts my thoughts and I rush to answer the door. I know it’s him. My heart leaps in my chest as our eyes meet. Then, I grab his hand and pull him inside. After I lock the door, I turn to face him. He pulls me into his arms and we kiss passionately.

When I come up for air, I gasp, “Dinner’s ready.” I had prepared a special dinner for him. It’s his favorite dish. The table is set. All I had to do was light the candles. The bottle of wine is nice and cold. And I’m dressed in a figure hugging black dress with spaghetti straps and a slit at the right side. My legs are bare.

“Dinner can wait,” he murmurs. “but, I can’t.” And then, he sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bedroom.

When we get there, he puts me down and hurriedly removes his clothes, his eyes filled with desire as he looks at me. I had less to remove so I’m naked within seconds. After he has stripped, he pulls me roughly against him and devours my mouth, his hands gripping my buttocks. I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach. Heat surges through my body making me weak at the knees. I cling to him as I respond wildly to his kisses.

Still kissing, he backs me over to the bed and we collapse on top of it. He breaks off the kiss and covers every inch of me with kisses, driving me crazy. I lay there on my back, eyes squeezed shut, loving every moment of this. He grabs my legs and pulls them apart so that he could enter me. I cry out and my fingers grip his arms as he begins to move his hips.

An hour later, we are having dinner. Fortunately, it’s still hot. “I hope the dinner is to your liking,” I say to him anxiously.

He smiles. “It’s the best Chicken piccata I have ever tasted,” he assures me.

I’m relieved and very flattered to hear that. I wondered if Cheryl ever cooked a meal for him but as curious as I was to know that, I thought it would be better not to ask. We were having a wonderful and romantic. I didn’t want to spoil it by talking about Cheryl. “For dessert, we will have strawberry ribbons and summer plums.”

“That sounds great. I haven’t had ice-cream in a long time.”

“It’s summer. Now’s the time for cold desserts.”

After dinner, we go into to the living-room to have our ice-cream and then, while I clear the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, he turns on the stereo so that we could enjoy some R&B music. We dance and watch a couple of movies and then it’s time for him to leave.

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Hours later, we are standing in the foyer facing each other now. I’m always sad when he leaves. “I’ll see you on Wednesday,” he said.

Wednesday was four days away. How could I wait that long to see him? For a moment, I felt like the mistress of a married man who had to be satisfied with the pittance of time she got with him. Smiling, I reply, “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

He reaches over and kisses me on the mouth. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I open the door and watch him leave. He turns to wave before he disappears from my view. I hear the elevator arrive and then leave. I close and lock the door.

It’s after mid-night but I’m not sleepy so, I go into the living-room and after turning off the stereo, I sit and watch the 1961 movie version of Fannie Hurst’s book, Back Street.

Source: Insanely Good Recipes

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