We made up, and everything is back to normal," I breathe out, glancing up at his disbelieving eyes."That's good! But be kind to my poor heart, my cook...ng is better right?" Eli shouts from the couch, holding his white to-go container full of French toast in his lap. "Oh Eli, no one's cooking will ever compare to yours," I choke back a laugh by scooping a bite of scrambled eggs into my mouth. It was true, Eli's cooking is terrible, I pity the girl that he ends up with. I smile softly to myself. The service is simple and hopefully not too labour intensive. Dive in and indulge.’ ‘It’s a labour of love,’ he sighed, his pulse quickening. ‘Well you seem to love it sir.’ ‘I most certainly do.’ ‘Then lean back on the chair and preparing for lust off.’ ‘A grand idea, and so poetically put.’ ‘Hardly poetic – more like bawdy’ ‘Maybe, but I won’t correct you… ‘Why not: would a spanking be distracting, when you seem to be enjoying yourself so well and can almost feel eternity slipping by?’ He. More

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