Free You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub by Cora Blu

shivered down to her toes it smelled so good. She announced almost with a hint of pride, “Jonathan's stroganoff, I can't believe he sent me dinner.” Heat rushed up her neck at his thoughtfulness, not to mention she found the gesture sexy. Any man sending her a hot meal by a chauffeur can’t be all bad.
    “He made that?”
    “He made me a plate of it when I was in his penthouse, but I couldn’t handle the smell of sour cream.”
    “Let me taste it to make certain he's not trying to poison you.”
    Randall would get a meal if he was the only man alive and there was no food. She watched him take a healthy fork of the tangy scented noodles. “Oh, this is good.” Randall motioned toward the plate, mouth full of egg noodles, “I knew he was Irish Mafia.”
    “What are you rambling about with your mouth full?”
    Randall swallowed and grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser on the counter then wiped his mouth. “You’ve seen them old black and white shows where the king pin’s in his kitchen white tank, black trousers pulled up criminally high?” He swirled the fork in front of his groin. “Grape smugglers strapped to red suspenders. Cooking in the kitchen, the mob boss always had one meal they made better than anyone else. Of course they learned it from their mothers, while they cleaned the muzzle of their shot guns sitting at her feet.”
    “What do you know about mafia? You grew up in Nigeria.”
    He waved his fork giving her a dark stare. “In Nigeria not under it, and there’s a lot going on in Nigeria that would blow your mind lady. Regardless, I went to college in London. Mafia is not just in Italy and America. Don't change the subject. You know I'm right about lover boy.”
    Kenya frowned. “I see why you’re in marketing. I just got the full picture and scarily enough I could see him doing that.” Especially after she’d seen him barefoot padding through his home. “I need to call and thank him for feeding my greedy neighbor.”
    “I’m hungry…” Randall apologized holding a fork of the fat noodles to her mouth. Cupping a hand under the fork, she closed her mouth around the buttery creation. Kenya clutched a hand to Randall’s shoulder and closed her eyes let the sinful taste have its way with her.
    “Good, isn’t it? You’re man can burn in the kitchen, I’ll give him that.”
    “Oh that’s a culinary orgasm,” she said, rubbing the chill from her arms. “Don’t eat it all, Randall. I would like to have a little once I get out of these clothes.”
    Randall shoved a forkful of the tangy noodles in his mouth, savoring every bite, moaning deep in his throat. The sounds brought Jonathan to mind when he’d kissed her on the couch. He’d moaned over her lips. A shot of pure lust tightened her breast and everything below to a painful state. The man could kiss.   
    “Just don’t start touching yourself…It’ll kill me,” Jonathan groaned, propped along the counter, staring at her. Has she moaned that loud?
    Embarrassed, she moved around him, went into the kitchen, and pushed a glass under the tap filling it with cold water. Drinking down half the contents, she set it on the counter then took the container of noodles from Randall.
    He grinned. Randall covered his mouth, and said, “I’m being honest. Anyway, who’s your breakfast client tomorrow morning?” Kenya popped open the microwave setting the container inside then crossed into the living room.
    “I can’t discuss that with you, stop asking stuff like that. I don’t care how cool we are you’re a client when it comes to work, Randall. But I hear he’s big time, so I want to get rest and be on point tomorrow.”
    She left him to go to change out of her dress. She strolled back to her room, undressed, and slipped on yoga pants and a t-shirt.
    Kenya padded out to the living room, tugging her hair into a high ponytail above her head. No sign of Randall. Shaking her head, she fixed a plate, then poured a tall glass of