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Rome and Florence. I also worked
in Alicante, Glasgow, London, Bruges, Amsterdam, and, of course,
Paris.”
    “Mmmm,” was
Bronagh’s only response, and when I turned and saw the dreamy look
on her face, I knew she was thinking about her own time in
Europe.
    “The history
and the architecture in each city is amazing, and the
food …”
    She lifted her
face and nodded. No words were necessary.
    We finished
preparing the meal, both lost in memories, then moved to the stools
on the other side of the island and sat down to enjoy our hard
work.
    “Soooo good,”
Bronagh said after her first bite.
    Deciding I
needed to learn as much about her as I could, I asked, “What’s your
favorite song?”
    “ Sugar
Magnolia .”
    “Wow,” I
responded with a chuckle. “You didn’t even have to think about it.
A Dead Head, huh?”
    “No, I wouldn’t
say I’m a Dead Head, but that song speaks to me, you know?”
    “Yeah,” I
totally did.
    “What about
you?” she asked, rolling her pasta around her fork.
    “ Right
Here by Staind,” I replied automatically. “They write and play
the kind of music I want to make.”
    I finished a
forkful of Carbonera and decided to delve a little deeper.
    “What’s the
most serious relationship you’ve ever had?”
    Bronagh
finished chewing, then answered softly, “I was married.”
    “Oh,” I
responded, then realized I shouldn’t be surprised. A gorgeous,
talented, amazing woman like Bronagh wouldn’t spend her life
single. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking…”
    Bronagh sat
back from her now empty plate and placed her hands on her
thighs.
    “No, of course
not.” She took a deep breath and replied, “I met my husband in a
kitchen. I worshiped him … Not in a romantic way, not at first, but
his skill and domineering presence in the kitchen drew me to him. I
wanted to learn as much from him as possible, and I did, then it
turned in to something else. He called me his muse, and I was
flattered ... When he asked me to marry him and work side by side
with him, I thought my dreams had come true, but he kept me at
arm’s length. Don’t get me wrong, he was doting and affectionate,
but that was the extent of our relationship.” Bronagh looked at me,
her expression sad, and added, “He put me on a pedestal. He didn’t
want a partner, he wanted a showpiece. It was as if I was his
signature dish … We were married for ten years when I found out
that he’d been sleeping with other women the entire time.”
    “What an ass,”
I said, disgusted. I may have been a player, but I believed
whole-heartedly in the sanctity of marriage. I thought cheaters
were the lowest form of life.
    “The funny
thing is, when I confronted him, he really didn’t see what the big
issue was,” she said with a dry laugh. “He said that as his wife, I
deserved to be treated like porcelain, not degraded by his male
urges.” Bronagh looked down, as if ashamed to be telling me that
her husband hadn’t treated her like the sexual goddess that she
was, so I placed my finger under her chin, and raised her face back
up to look directly at me. “What we did together … I’d never done
that before. I’ve only had three sexual partners in my life, and
they’ve all been pretty tame.”
    My cock
hardened at her admission, the animal in me thrilled that I’d be
the one to introduce her to new experiences.
    “I’m dying to
remedy that situation,” I stated, my gaze falling on her lips when
she licked them nervously. “You deserve to be worshiped, Freckles,
and I’m happy to be the man that shows you all the things you’ve
been missing.”

 

    Chapter Eight ~
Bronagh
     
    “What’s the
most serious relationship you’ve ever had?” I asked, going back to
our earlier conversation.
    We were lying
in my bed, our naked bodies haphazardly covered by my pale-yellow
sheets. He’d just introduced me to the more positive aspects of the
sixty-nine position, and we were both feeling loose