Love and Language Read Free Page B

much of a cook. She and my dad were—well are —workaholics. They’re into international law and human rights campaigns. We’d end up in a country for a year or two and then another. All over Europe and the Americas.”
    “That’s how you learned all those languages,” she said.
    “Yes. Plus, I can eat just about anything. You have to try different stuff.” He grinned. “But my mom didn’t cook. Some places, we had a housekeeper. In the states, it was takeout or ordering in every night. Everyone was busy. When you change schools all the time, it’s like catch-up even if you’re ahead on the class work.”
    “It must’ve been hard to make friends. You’d feel so out of control all the time since you were always in a new environment.” She started thinking of him as a Dom and tried to stop it fast. Something in his presence and the way he stared at her with confidence sent her submissive sensors off. It wasn’t how he looked at her on campus. He stood taller and spoke more firmly. Even if he were a Dom, he’d probably get his PhD, put in a little time teaching, and then move off somewhere exotic. “Do you miss traveling?”
    “No!” He sat back. “I like the odd vacation but not routinely traveling. College has been the longest time in my life where I’ve had the same address, the same friends and the same community. Most kids want to see the world, and I just wanted to settle down and have a life.”
    “Sounds like a lonely way to grow up.” She sympathized since she’d been a lonely child herself.
    “Oh no, I had two older brothers who made it crazy but never lonely. Our parents loved us, but they loved their work, too. Some days were an adventure, but most times, I wanted to be normal.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t trade it, but that’s not what I want now.”
    He looked at her intently, and she had to break the gaze, or she’d be under the younger man’s spell. She reached for his plate. “Want more?”
    “No, I’m stuffed, thanks. It’s great. Where did you learn to cook?”
    “Self taught. I was a poor college kid on scholarships and student loans. It was cheaper to cook than order in or go out.” His childhood sounded so glamorous, with important parents. She didn’t want to talk about herself at all. “I’d offer dessert, but I don’t really have anything handy. Maybe, we should get to the lessons, so I don’t take up your entire evening.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel then tugged the tablecloth off the old wooden table, so they had a clean working surface.
    “My entire evening is yours. I’ll stay all night if I have to.” He grabbed his bag and set it on the table.
    “Hopefully, I’m a better student than that.” She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen before taking her seat. Then she spied her laptop. Casually bringing it over to the table, she closed it. “Just in case.”
    “Well, you’ve got the phone app so you’ll never be totally screwed. Italian is easier for most people, so we’ll start there.” He sat next to her. “Now, close your eyes.”
    She looked at him as if it were a trick.
    “Seriously, listening is half the work. You’ll focus better with your eyes closed. I have a sleep mask if it will help you.” He pulled it out of his bag.
    To her, it was a blindfold, and she craved it, except she wanted to see him. “I guess.”
    “Okay.” He put the mask on her. “I’ll say something, and you repeat it.”
    She nodded. The sound of his commanding voice rippled over her body. When he started in Italian, she copied him and tried to focus on the tutorial and not the wetness between her legs or the heat from his body.
    “You’re a great student,” he said.
    The English jarred her. “Thank you. Repeating is easy.”
    “Comprehension will come from studying during the day when you have pockets of time. Getting your mouth and throat to obey and make the right sounds is the first step in a crash course.” He moved closer, and his arm slid along