Chapter Sixty-Two
Jamie took a bite of the omelette. Closed his eyes while he chewed. Needs a little more salt, white pepper, and a splash of Tabasco.
“Well.” Mike was watching Jamie intensely. “Be honest. I’ll never learn if you don’t tell me.”
Jamie took a sip of the wine. “Okay. Here’s me being honest: a bit more salt in the filling, and not table salt—cooking, or kosher salt.
I’d have used white pepper instead of black.
And I would have put a few dashes of hot sauce in with the ham and veg.
Your pan should have been a little hotter on the first one.
” He pointed to the omelette on Mike’s plate.
“It either needs to be a little browner or, like the French, no brown at all.”
Mike shook his head. “And you got all that from just one bite?”
Jamie shrugged and nodded. “But you gotta remember I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“And it shows.” Mike grinned. “But that wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“Not at all. Trust me, I’ve had some pretty ratty-ass omelettes. I once got one, and it was raw in the middle. The eggs were still runny. It was so gross.”
“Yuck.” Mike took a large bite of his omelette and slowly chewed. “Hmm, I think you’re right about the hot sauce. It would kick it up a bit. Why the white pepper instead of the black?”
Jamie chewed on a spear of asparagus. “If you taste it again, and really concentrate on the flavours, you’ll notice that there is a bitter sting.
Chew a few times and then let it rest on your tongue.
If it’s the least bit bitter, that would be the black pepper.
When cooked like this, it will do that. White pepper won’t, and it’s also invisible so it doesn’t detract from the look of it. ”
Mike took another bite and slowly chewed it, concentrating. “I think I can tell, but not certain.”
“It’s all about training your palate to distinguish different flavours.”
“Okay,” Mike nodded. “I’ll work on that.”
“You’ve got a really good palate already, so it shouldn’t be too hard. This is really tasty, by the way. I’m enjoying it. I like the cubed ham instead of the shredded type. Has a good mouthfeel. Adds a bit of texture; chew.”
They finished the meal. Mike collected the plates and immediately placed them into the dishwasher. “Coffee?” Mike asked.
“Not for me, thanks. Keeps me up at night.”
“Right, I remember you saying that. I’d offer you decaf, but I don’t have any.”
Jamie laughed. “I wouldn’t want decaf anyway.”
“More wine? I think there are only two more serves left. Wanna finish it off?”
“Sure, why not. It’s not like I’m going to be stinking drunk off three glasses of wine, especially after such a good meal.”
Mike could feel his cheeks go red. “Thank you. That’s a really good compliment coming from you.”
“I like food. I’m not a food critic. People rarely cook for me, so I appreciate it that you did.”
After pouring the rest of the wine into their glasses and having sat back down, he said, “I have to admit, I was nervous as hell. I kept asking myself what in the world was I thinking.”
Jamie chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. The first time I had to cook something for my last chef for a job interview, I was all thumbs at first. Took me a while to settle down and just cook.”
“You look so natural when you’re working.” Mike leaned in, placing his arms on the table. “It’s sexy.”
“Okay, now that’s a first,” Jamie said, laughing. “Never have I been told I’m sexy at work. I usually feel like a big sweaty mess.”
“Well, it is. I could sit and watch you work all day.”
“These days, I work mostly nights.” Jamie took a long sip of the bubbly wine.
“Doesn’t matter. I’d watch no matter what time of day it is.”
Jamie set the glass down. “I have to confess, watching you work, especially in those tight shorts and tank top, is pretty sexy too.”
Jamie watched as Mike blushed. “I never... thought of what I was wearing as sexy. It’s just standard Army PT gear.”
“In case you haven’t noticed.” Jamie waved his hand slightly up and down Mike’s torso. “You’re pretty damn ripped.”
That made Mike blush even harder. “Thanks,” Mike murmured.
“Well... there’s something else we have in common: we don’t take compliments easily.”
Mike had to laugh. “Okay, you’re right again.” Mike nervously twirled the wine glass by the stem. “Would you like to um... move over to the couch?”
“Sure,” Jamie said, standing. He looked at the living area and how small the demi-sofa was. He looked back at Mike.
“Yes, I would like to kiss you, if you’ll let me, if you’re okay with that,” Mike said as he gently pushed Jamie towards the coffee-colored sofa.
“Okay.” Jamie let himself be guided. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Always ask permission first.”
Mike blushed again. “We have to do sensitivity training at work. It’s required and... I guess they’ve drummed it into me pretty hard.” He looked directly into Jamie’s eyes. “We’re supposed to get permission to touch, too.” He shrugged.
Jamie looked into his wine glass for a few seconds. He leaned over and set the glass on the small coffee table. He turned to look at Mike, took a deep breath, and then moved to straddle Mike, sitting in his lap. Mike’s eyes got as big as saucers. Jamie put his hands on Mike’s shoulders.
“New rule: You never have to ask me permission to kiss me. It’s a standing ‘yes.’”
Mike blinked hard a few times, then croaked, “Okay.”
Jamie leaned in, closing the distance between their lips. “You’re a damn good kisser.”
Mike didn’t hesitate. He pushed forward until their lips met. It wasn’t long until the kiss developed into a flaming hot, passionate kiss—their tongues fighting to control the other.
Jamie pulled back. “Oh yeah, you sure do know how to kiss.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” Mike returned the compliment, his voice deep and husky.
Their mouths met again, and once again, it turned fiery quickly. Jamie wrapped his arms around Mike’s neck, holding him in place, taking more control. Mike’s arms enveloped Jamie’s body, pulling their chests together.
Mike pulled back, their lips lightly touching. “Um... I think you’re enjoying this. A lot.”
Jamie’s eyebrows rose slightly. “How?” he murmured into Mike’s mouth.
Mike pushed his hips up slightly, letting Jamie feel how hard he was. How hard they both were. This time, it was Jamie whose eyes bulged. “Oh, crap.”
“Um, it isn’t just you.” Mike raised his hips again. Instead of pulling back, he pushed forward and started kissing Jamie again.
This time, it was Jamie who broke the kiss off, his breathing ragged. He pulled back far enough to look into Mike’s eyes. “Now, what?”
Mike slid his hands down Jamie’s back, felt his ass for a moment, then gripped Jamie under his thighs.
He stood up, Jamie in his arms, his hands under Jamie’s thighs, his hands supporting Jamie’s weight.
Somehow, Mike managed to start kissing Jamie again as he walked the short distance to his bedroom.
Pushing the door fully open, Mike succeeded in navigating the space until his shins bumped against the bed. “This.” He half-dumped, half-threw Jamie down onto the bed. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to do that.” He proceeded to pull the shirt off over his head, letting it fall to the floor.
Jamie chortled. “You’ve actually thought of doing that?” He watched as Mike took his shirt off, marvelling at the body mass of the man that was covered in dark fur.
“Yes.” Mike stopped for a moment, looking down at Jamie. He looked about ready to say something but abruptly closed his mouth. He pulled Jamie’s boots off and began to crawl up Jamie’s body, straddling him. “I think you need to lose that shirt,” he said as he started to unbutton it.
Jamie was surprised at how gentle and how deftly Mike’s big fingers were. When Mike had unbuttoned the shirt, pulled it from the waistband of his jeans, he stopped, taking in the sight of Jamie’s now exposed chest.
“Wow,” Mike said, tracing a finger down the center of Jamie’s chest. “I didn’t know what to expect.” He looked into Jamie’s eyes. “You always wear such loose-fitting shirts... I never got to see how in shape you were.”
“What?” Jamie had a look of surprise on his face. “I wouldn’t say I’m in any kind of shape. I mean, not in good shape, not like you.”
“Yours comes from hard work. Naturally. You don’t need a gym.” Now Mike laid his palm on Jamie’s chest. “I can feel the muscle there.”
Jamie reached up, grabbed Mike behind his head, and pulled him down. “Kiss me,” he whispered.
Slowly, Mike lowered himself, stretching his body out, on top of Jamie, making sure to let his elbows support his upper body weight so as not the crush the man beneath him.
He kissed Jamie’s nose, then the side of his mouth.
Up along his jaw line, to behind his ear, and nipped lightly where his neck met his shoulder.
Jamie couldn’t help the low moan that escaped his lips, or his hips pushing upwards, finding they had a mind of their own, crushing the hardness between his legs into Mike’s equally hard erection. Mike’s moan vibrated against Jamie’s neck, sending a shiver down his body.
“I want you, Jamie.” Mike ran his tongue up the side of Jamie’s neck. “More than anyone I’ve ever known before.” He raised his head, looking directly into Jamie’s eyes. “I hope you believe me.”
Jamie stared into those deep brown eyes and saw nothing but sincerity in them. “I do.” Jamie lifted his head to meet Mike’s lips. This time, the kiss was softer, slower, with a lot of meaning behind it.