Page 56 of Courageous Hearts

Jameson

“A little less pressure. And really get your fingers in there. Don’t be afraid to get dirty,” I say.

Bo repeats the motion. “Like this?”

“Just like that. You’re a natural,” I tell them, smiling when Bo beams.

Bo hums along to the music playing through my phone’s speakers as they finish spreading out the round of dough with their fingertips, and it makes my entire being flush warm. It reminds me of cooking with my mom in the kitchen. Of so many happy memories.

It feels like I’m making new memories with Bo.

“What now?” they ask, holding up their flour-dusted hands.

I step close, grabbing the wooden spoon from the saucepan. “Open up.”

Eyes a little wide, Bo does as I ask and parts their lips. I bring the spoon to their mouth.

“Taste,” I say.

Bo captures the end of the spoon in their mouth, licking their lips after testing the pizza sauce we made from crushed tomatoes. “You’re doin’ this on purpose, aren’t you?” they ask.

“Doing what?” I reply, feigning innocence. I set the pan in front of them on the counter. “Now spread slowly.”

“Oh, my God,” they reply, lips twitching. Cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, they shake their head. “You’re definitely doin’ this on purpose. I wasn’t sure at first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, notching my chin over Bo’s shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to the half-moon bruises that mar the skin of their neck. I shouldn’t like the sight of them so much. I really shouldn’t. But I do.

Bo sounds amused when they ask, “What’s next?”

Stepping back, I grab the shredded mozzarella cheese and hand it over. Bo waits, one eyebrow raised, like they’re awaiting instruction. Or more like they’re waiting to see how I’ll possibly make sprinkling cheese sexy.

Dropping my voice low, I say, “Now you’ll want to coat it in the white stuff. And I mean aim it everywhere. Don’t stop until it’s covered.”

Bo hiccups into laughter, dropping their head forward as their back shakes. “That was so bad, Jamie. Terrible.”

Grinning, I lean my nose against the side of their head as they spread the cheese over the pizza. They smell so good, bright and flowery and a little bit like the oregano we used in the sauce. I take a good whiff.

“Can’t wait to hear what you tell me to do with the meat,” they mumble.

Cock filling slightly, I grab the bowl of crumbled sausage. “Stick out your tongue.”

“Hell,” they groan, but they do as I say, giving me the perfect platform on which to place a small piece of meat.

“Swallow.”

Groaning again, Bo does. “Aren’t you supposed to be teachin’ me?”

“Am I not?” I ask, reaching around Bo to spread green pepper on the pizza while they take care of the sausage.

“You’re distractin’ me is what you’re doin’. I’m gonna pop a boner now every time I eat pizza.”

They wave toward their crotch, and sure enough, they’re sporting wood. Own cock thickening further, I slide my hand around their hip. “Want me to—”

Bo swats my hand away. “Don’t you dare, Jameson Wright,” they say, voice husky but stern. “We’re finishin’ this pizza.”

Huffing a laugh, I nod, notching my chin back over Bo’s shoulder. Truth be told, I’m loving how into this Bo is. They’ve been treating the whole process with care, like it means something to them, learning how to cook. It makes me wonder if they’ve never had a chance before.

The thought makes me sad.

---