Cassandra
The oven beeps and I hop from the couch and dart towards it. I press the button on the stainless steel stove, slide on my oven mit, and pull the searing pan out. The aroma of baked salmon spreads through the small kitchen. I always make sure to load it with lemon, butter, and seasoning so it doesn't have that fishy smell.
Tarra's music shuts off, meaning she is getting out of the shower and probably changing into her pajamas. I pull out two plates, placing a piece of salmon on each, a handful of bagged salad mix, and some steamed broccoli before setting them on the white granite breakfast bar.
I take a seat, take a bite out of the salmon, and a small moan escapes my lips.
"Having an orgasm over your cooking again?" Tarra teases as she pulls out the stool and joins me.
"Hey,
