I have a feeling this is the sort of thing Harm and Mac would do and it's adorably sexy.
Pizza
"Like this, babe." Am I still supposed to swoon when he calls me that in a voice that oozes seduction? Okay, so it's not his bedroom voice, that one is far more huskier but, this one equally makes my heart race.
He stands behind me and hands covered in flour run down my arm from elbow to wrist and my skin tingles. "Push and pull." My hands are resting on the counter and he begins to manipulate the fluffy dough which will eventually become pizza. Each forceful movement is carried out expertly, graceful and with each knead his breath flutters against my neck. I close my eyes and just feel all of him.
His forearms brush against mine, the hard planes of Harm's muscular chest press into my back. Strength. He's always been such a solid wall of strength, my anchor and God do I love him. "You know…" He says his mouth dropping to press a kiss against my neck. That bedroom timbre is there now and I feel his lips curve into a smile. "...keeping your eyes open may help."
"Maybe if you weren't so close to me?" I tease and then he steps away and leans against coolly against the opposite counter with his arms crossed. "Thank you."
I take a breath and try to ignore just how sexy he looks - black sleeveless shirt stretching across that broad chest, splashes of flour sprinkled over it which disappear under a blue apron. From the corner of my eye I see him turn and take a moment to appreciate his six covered by faded dark blue jeans. Pizza making isn't supposed to be sensual is it?
He's working on the sauce, checking the temperature, adding this or that with that fine precision he's known for. When he dips a spoon in the mixture and licks it off my hand slips off the dough, hits a bottle of coarse salt and sends it flying off the counter and shattering to a zillion pieces on the ground.
Harm turns to face me, his eyes alight with amusement while I flush in embarrassment. "Oops." I say causally and that silly flyboy grin of his goes up in wattage like he knows it was his fault.
This catches the attention of Mrs. Bianco, the late 70ish year old Scicilian woman that Bud, Harriet, Sturgis, Varese, Harm and me (along with a few other couples) had gone to as a fun 'couples' night of wine (sparkling water for me) and pizza making. I just never thought that making pizza with my flyboy would be this umm...hot? And I am not talking about the blazing ovens behind us.
"Are you alright, Mac?" The older woman asks and for a brief moment I wonder if I'm about to be scolded. I brace for impact and she just walks over to us grinning. Upon glancing at our former co-workers (they came to visit toCalifornia to celebrate our fifth anniversary) they are all grinning like idiots as well. Christ, am I that transparent?
"Oh, I'm fine… dough got away from me." I glare at my dear husband who's trying to stifle his laughter which only makes it come out as a snort. "Keep it up, flyboy...you'll spend the night in the dog house." Errr.. cat house, we don't have a dog, we have a cat.
His answer is to pull me into his arms amongst all the other couples watching and to kiss me only to let me go when Mrs. Bianco clobbers him over the head with a wooden spoon. "Mr. Rabb, maybe if you let Mac alone she could finish kneading her dough."
His sheepish grin widens. "I apologize, ma'am. I can't keep away from my wife's feminine wiles." Harm's plastered that flyboy grin, raised it up to full wattage which has Mrs. Bianco blushing furiously as well if not a little flustered. I want to smack it off of him sometimes but, it has gotten us into some rather nice restaurants and reservations, so there's that.
Oh hell, I am not immune to it either and just roll my eyes in order to annoy him because I know his brand of punishment for my defiance is a particularly stunning performance between the sheets. Yeah, that hasn't died down either, not sure it ever will.
"Oh, it's alright dear, it's lovely to see you so much in love." Mrs. Bianco is beaming at us like a proud mother and just as quickly her smile turns into an icy glare like that of our most feared DI in boot. "Now finish your dough, that pizza isn't gonna make itself. And stop the amorous looks and flirting, you two are not in high school anymore."
Our friends are laughing, I can hear them and Harm gets another whack over the head for good measure. "Stop antagonizing your wife, mister! Get back to work."
"Yes, ma'am." Harm says and dutifully returns to stirring his sauce. I feel his gaze on me once again and don't have to turn around to realize he's grinning. "Ouch! Sorry!" He yelps when he gets whacked over the head again with that wooden spoon.
