"Darling," Roger said, looking up from his newspaper, "I'd like you to learn to cook." Roger's coffee mug made a clinking noise when he set it on the bedside table.
Watching him caused her heart to skip a beat.īut lately, Roger had been acting a bit off. That broad, muscular chest, those deep blue eyes.he was everything she could want in a man. She pretended to be reading an article about the latest colour trends, but took a sly peek over the top of the paper to observe the man she loved. She and Roger shared the newspaper-he read the business and sports pages, while she perused the comics and the lifestyle section.Īshley sipped her coffee daintily. Lounging around on Sunday mornings, curled up in her Egyptian cotton bed sheets, was when she felt the most cosy and secure. Sunlight floated in lazily through the bedroom window, the yellow light blending with the cream-coloured walls of the old Victorian tenement. Anyway, lots of women do it.Ashley snuggled down under the lofty comforter. To comply with his requests, to serve him. What if she was a flop?īut a sub’s job was to make her Master happy. She hated to admit it, but she felt uncomfortable with something so foreign to her. “All right.” She had never tried cooking before.
It made her insides go all mushy, and she felt a tingle of delight between her legs.Īshley hesitated, but only for a moment. Prepare food,” he teased, running his hand through her hair, mussing it up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Roger give her that benevolent, indulgent grin she loved so much. “Cook? Me?” She arched an eyebrow in his general direction without completely turning her head.
“Darling,” Roger said, looking up from his newspaper, “I’d like you to learn to cook.” Roger’s coffee mug made a clinking noise when he set it on the bedside table.
That broad, muscular chest, those deep blue eyes…he was everything she could want in a man. Ashley snuggled down under the lofty comforter.
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