“I can picture it right now. You lyin’ in bed with a sated pussy. I wanna lick you dry, Sugar. I wouldn’t let a single drop go to waste. I’m greedy like that.” Chef's words sent a shudder through her, but she managed to collect herself.

“Were you turned on at all while I...” she trailed off.

“Were? Still am,” he corrected.

Sugar blinked, surprised but thoroughly aroused again. “Oh, I... see.”

Damn, she wanted to see.

“Do you wanna see?”

Sugar exhaled through her nostrils in frustration. It felt like he had tapped into her mind, reading her intimate thoughts all night.

“If you want to show me, I won’t stop you,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

The call ended abruptly.

In the meantime, she grabbed the sex toy and went to the bathroom to wash it. She hated to admit it, but Odette had given her the best birthday gift. Still, the thought of her baby sister browsing the aisles of a sex shop, searching for the “perfect” gift for her “sex-deprived” older sister, grossed her out.

Shaking her head, Sugar dried the toy with a towel and returned it to its new home inside her nightstand drawer. After closing it, she flopped onto the bed and picked up her phone. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed a text notification from Chef. A message he sent while she’d been busy washing the toy.

She must not have heard the chime over the running water.

Opening the message thread, her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened at what she saw.

It was a picture of his long, thick, very erect cock resting against his toned stomach.

“Geez,” she gasped, ogling the image.

She reached for the neglected bottle of wine on her nightstand and took three deep gulps.

Even from a distance, she could tell Chef was well-endowed—far more so than the only other man she’d known that way: her ex-husband, Lance.

She’d never been one to judge a man’s size, as Lance had been her first and only. But she knew her ex was on the smaller side; he often slipped out of her during sex. Out of love and the desire to please him, she had researched positions that accommodated his size. But he only liked missionary and doggy and refused to compromise. After a few years, she gave up on trying new things with him.

He liked what he liked, and that was that.

Her phone buzzed, startling her as Chef called her back.

“Did you have to cleanse your eyeballs after witnessin’ such a horror?” He repeated her earlier teasing question, though his tone held little humor.

“No, but I did need a few drinks to process,” she admitted, placing the bottle back on the nightstand.

“Too much?”

“Wine? No,” she said, shaking her head.

“Not the wine. The picture, honey,” Chef clarified. “Was it too much?”

Sugar bit her bottom lip for a moment. “You mean the context of the picture or the size of, uh, the thing in the picture?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Answer both.”

“Well, it’s a, um, very compelling picture. I’ve never received one like it before, so it definitely sets a standard,” Sugar answered nervously. “As for the latter question... well, it’s, um, wow.”

“Is it safe to say ‘it’ meets your approval?”

Before she could stop herself, Sugar blurted out, “Well, I’d have to see it face-to-face for an accurate rating of my appro—oh my god. I can’t believe I just said that.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. The wine was going straight to her head, loosening her lips.

“Don’t be ashamed, Sugar. We’re adults. No need to hide what you wanna say. You know I don’t hold back.”

Yes, she knew that best of all.

“I’ll work on it,” she promised.

“Good,” he replied.

“I should probably hang up now so you can handle your, um,” she paused, searching for the right word, “business.”

He teased throatily, “Thanks for bein’ so considerate.”

“I aim to please,” she retorted.

“I look forward to seeing that face-to-face,” he countered.

Sugar rolled her eyes, unable to stop smiling. “Good night, Chef.”

“Sweet dreams, Sugar.”

After the call ended, sleep eluded her.

She turned off the lights and switched on the TV, flipping through channels while draining the last of the wine. Sighing, she placed the empty bottle on the nightstand and slithered beneath the covers.

With a click of the remote, she turned off the television and lay in the dark, her mind spinning with thoughts of Chef, the events of the night, and what might happen next Friday.

Reaching for her phone, she unlocked it and navigated back to her text messages. Her eyes immediately fell on the last photo Chef had sent.

Sugar bit back a smile at the image.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

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