Dinner Party for Two Ch. 02

There are things you learn about a person by living with them that you wouldn't learn any other way. Like the way they lean against a wall to smoke... How they like their socks folded... Why they insist on sleeping on a specific side of the bed... How they screen their phone calls... What it's like for them to watch their favorite sports team losing to their least favorite sports team... And how fast they finish a meal if they know company won't leave until it's all gone.

As I watched you eat the dinner we'd prepared, I prayed silently that you wouldn't choke. Somehow I managed not to laugh as I watched you attempt to get the rest of the table to eat as quickly as you were. It was comical, really. Then Katherine, a new co-worker of yours, commented, "Mel, the chicken is dead. I'm pretty sure it won't run away from you. You can slow down."

The color your face changed to could be called "crimson". When I laughed, you eyed me and replied, "You just don't know, Katherine, how much I love the taste of chicken."

Oh shit. Breathe, Savi. In that moment, I knew what you were referring to, but no one else caught on. For years you'd called me "chicken". It's the term they use for unmarried women where you're from. I tried like hell not to show my own blushing cheeks off, and I succeeded for a moment or two...just long enough to attempt a witty and equally disguised reply to you, "Yes, you do love chicken." I turned to Katherine, "She likes her chicken hot. So she eats quickly. You know, so it doesn't get cold."

When the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile, I knew I was dead meat, "Yep. Nothing I like better than the taste of some well-seasoned, hot, juicy chicken."

Oh fuck you. I had to bite the inside of my lip and then pretend to drink in order to not absolutely lose all composure. Katherine, who clearly didn't get the innuendo, unknowingly played right into our underlying conversation, "Oh, me too! And this is so good! It just melts in your mouth."

You lifted your napkin to your mouth in a fake "wipe" but I knew you were laughing behind it. In that moment I didn't know whether to laugh out loud or kick you under the table. Then you shocked me by excusing yourself from the table, "Excuse me, please. I'm going to get more rolls."

Katherine, not realizing she was killing us slowly, added, "I just love this sauce! It's so thick and is a great compliment to the tender chicken. Really, it's very good. I almost want to lick it off the plate!"

Fuck me I'm done. I stood abruptly, "I'm going to help her in the kitchen. If I don't, she might burn something. Please excuse me."

As the door to the kitchen swung closed behind me, I mouthed, "Oh my god!" to you.

Laughing silently, your face was red and you had tears in your eyes, "I know!"

I slid my arms around you and whispered in your ear, "Your chicken is very tender and saucy."

Your body shook under the pressure of choking a laugh back, then you whispered, "Are we bad people for laughing at her?"

Shaking my head, I smiled and whispered back, "Does it really matter? We're going to hell anyway for being so much better than everyone else."

You leaned down and kissed my nose, "You know, I think you're right." Eying me wickedly, you asked, "So...how many other people know how good my chicken tastes?"

"Very few," I laughed, "so few it's almost laughable." You laughed and I added, "The recipe for your super-moist, tender, excellent chicken is so complicated that no one else can replicate it, baby. Trust me."

"Hm," you tilted your head to the side, "I wonder if they're jealous that I have mad chicken skills and they don't."

"Probably. But you should still keep the recipe to yourself. You can't just have everyone out there trying your chicken."

Those lips, the ones I've kissed a thousand times, tilted in a smirk, "No one out there is worthy of tasting my chicken. Besides, my chicken is loyal and likes the way I cook it and knows that no one else out there can cook it like I can."

From deep in my chest, the laugh came bubbling out, "You're so right, babe. So very, very right." I pulled your head down to kiss me and your hold on me tightened.

Your fingertips came up to gently brush my face, making me shiver. When my tongue sought out yours, you let out the softest moan, making me a little dizzy and lightheaded. You pulled me harder against you and the kiss became a bit of a wrestling match for our tongues. When our dinner guests laughed loudly, it snapped us out of the kiss and our "private time". "Shit," you whispered, "I almost forgot we aren't alone."

Wiping my mouth, I smiled, "Me too." I took a deep breath, "Okay. I'll go back and then you wait a bit before coming back out." I grabbed the wine bottle and kissed you again, "Don't forget the rolls."

As I turned to leave, you smacked me on the ass, "Yes ma'am."

Turning a bit, I smiled, "I'll get you back for that, later. Trust me."

"Ooh," you smiled, "my chicken is saucy!"