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I dropped the brush back into the bottle of polish. “You know what part.”
“My cock? And you call me a sex maniac.”
“No, not your cock. How you look now.”
Oliver glanced down at his trimmed pubic hair. “This turns you on?”
“That and the base of your cock. It’s sexy.”
He shook his head and pulled up his zipper before he slipped on the white t-shirt with the Fox Asset Corporation logo at the left breast. I went back to finishing my nails, blowing on them so they would dry.
“What should we have with the steaks?” I asked.
He swiped his hair with his hand. “Check the refrigerator. I’m sure there’s plenty to choose from.”
“What did you do, Oliver Fox?”
His expression was too innocent as he answered. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Uh, huh, sure you don’t.”
I finished drying my toenails, slipped on a pair of flip flops, and stood up, feeling the coolness of the tiles under my feet. Downstairs in the kitchen, I opened the oversized refrigerator, revealing an array of colorful salads in clear containers. I chose the red potato salad, spinach tortellini, and a Greek tossed salad with feta cheese.
Oliver stepped out onto the patio to fire up the grill. The juxtaposition of his immense wealth and his self-sufficiency always struck me as intriguing. He could have easily kept his staff on for the weekend, but he preferred to do things himself.
While he tended to two large porterhouse steaks, I brought out plates, silverware, salads, glasses, and a bottle of red wine.
“Would you like a glass now?” I called out to him.
“Yes, please,” he replied, not looking up from the grill.
I poured a glass for him, taking a sip as I crossed the patio to hand it to him. The steaks smelled divine, and I wondered what marinade he had used. I took another sip before passing him the glass.
“Don’t you have your own?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I like drinking from yours. Do you have a problem with it?” I teased, my lips curling into a smile.
“No, I don’t,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
The flames on the grill flared suddenly, and Oliver stepped back, expertly moving the steaks to avoid the blaze.
“Those smell fantastic. What’s the marinade?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“It’s a secret. Even I don’t know the ingredients,” he said with a grin.
“Whatever it is, it’s making my mouth water,” I confessed.
He leaned in, giving me a wine-laced kiss. “You make my mouth water,” he murmured against my lips.
I rolled my eyes, giggling as I went to sit at the table. We had a leisurely dinner, savoring every bite. The steaks were cooked to perfection, tender and flavorful. After we cleaned up, Oliver led me upstairs to the terrace just outside our bedroom. The night was beautiful, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves.
I climbed onto his lap, resting my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “I couldn’t have asked for a better time,” I whispered, feeling utterly content.
“Me neither,” he replied softly, kissing the top of my head. We sat there in comfortable silence, the stars twinkling above us, the perfect end to a perfect day.
Chapter 5
Raphael
