Page 269 of The Billionaires

“I want to watch it,” she clarifies.

“You want to watch Netflix,” I say slowly. “To celebrate?”

With her being a virgin, I doubt she’d even know about Netflix and chill, let alone choose that as her celebration of choice.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Why not?”

“Because you’ve seen it already?” And because there’s an infinite number of activities that are more celebratory, like eating cake, lobster, or Jane’s sweet pussy.

“I’ve only seen season two four times,” Jane says. “To catch up to season one, I’ve got five more watches to go.”

I scratch my head. “If that’s what you want. Should we open a bottle of wine?”

I think I’ve got just the vintage for such a special occasion.

“Wine would be nice,” she says. “And maybe a cheese plate.”

“I’ll make you a plate,” I say. “The only thing is, I don’t currently have any cheese made from cow’s milk.”

“You don’t? What animal does your cheese come from?”

“Donkey, moose, and water buffalo. All tasty.”

“Oh, sure. They all sound very appetizing.” She glances at Leo. “What about cheese made from sheep?”

“You mean Feta cheese?”

She blinks at me. “Is that what that’s made from?”

I nod. “The best ones have seventy percent ewes’ milk and the rest goat.” After a pause, I add, “Ewe is a female sheep.”

“Eww indeed.” She grimaces. “I wonder who came up with the idea of milking random animals and then drinking it?”

I smile. “Don’t forget waiting for that milk to curdle in the case of cheese. That sounds even crazier.”

She grins. “I bet it was someone like you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, though I’m not sure if I should. “Let’s go.”

We swing by the wine cellar and grab the bottle I had in mind.

“Romanée-Conti,” Jane reads from the bottle. “Is it expensive?”

“Not to me,” I say with a handwave and head for the fridge.

Turns out, we’re in luck. Not only do I locate the cheeses I mentioned, but I do have a small piece of cow-based cheese from Pearl Hyman, a talented local cheesemaker.

We settle on the couch, wine glasses in hand, and I turn on the TV.

Jane takes a sip of her wine and gasps. “This is so good! How can wine be this good?”

“Try the cheese.” Or don’t. If that sexy gasping continues, Yoda might just lose his shit.

Jane gingerly picks up a piece of cheese, then moans in pleasure—as I feared she might.

“Wow,” she says. “I don’t care if they had to milk subway rats to make this. It’s delicious.”

She samples a different cheese and moans from that too.

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