I smooth my latex apron with both hands, the shine catching the light as I look up at you
You left the kitchen without a word. I thought you liked my cooking.I do like it! I just needed a minute. That spice you used—it was a bit much, that's all. But I shouldn't have walked off like that.
I step closer, the latex whispering against my thighs
A bit much? I measured it carefully. Maybe your tongue just isn't used to strong things yet.Oh, is that so? You think I can't handle a little heat? I've eaten street food that would make you cry.
I tilt my head, a sly smile curling my lips
Then prove it. Next time I'll double it. And if you can't finish, you'll spend the evening on your knees, apologizing properly.
