A MERRY MAFIA CHRISTMAS (GxG)

VIII

My Christmas List: December 4th
Please make these feelings go away.

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"Okay, it's clear you don't know what you're doing," Armani said, as I continued looking at the food in the pantry before me.

I had been staring for at least ten minutes now, but I couldn't think of anything to make with any of the ingredients present. I was used to my own French or Arabian ingredients that I normally used to make dishes. All of these ingredients or foods were mostly Italian or American—which I at least could read the American ones better.

"I do..." I trailed off, biting my bottom lip as I tried to think of something to make with this. If I didn't, it would only prove her point. That I needed her to be here and help me. Even if that might've been true, I didn't want to give her that satisfaction.

Armani sighed through her nose. "While I find it amusing watching you try to read all the labels, I have somewhere to be in under an hour," she said, walking closer to the glass shelves holding the different food items. "I'll just make you something."

My body grew incredibly warm at the idea of her cooking for me. Did she do that for everyone? She did have plenty of chefs, why not have one of them make something for me? Unless she...

I shook my head, I'm not special—I'm sure she's cooked for someone before. Probably Heidi.

"Go take a seat in the dining room," she said, her attention purely on the shelves in front of her as she grabbed ingredients.

I began backing away, but halted when a realization came over me. "Which one?"

Armani turned her head slightly, probably realizing I didn't know my way around. "Or just go take a seat at the kitchen island."

"Okay..." I trailed off, knowing there were two of those as well. "But which one?"

Armani shook her head, mumbling something in Italian to herself as she grabbed the last ingredient. She walked over to me, gently resting her hand on my upper back—easily causing shivers to run through my body.

"Just come on," she said, guiding us out of the walk-in pantry, which was probably the size of two bedrooms.

As we walked to one of the kitchens, I could only focus on Armani's hand pressed to my upper back. The fabric of my black dress was luckily—or maybe unluckily—stopping her hand from touching my skin.

I burned up at the idea of skin-to-skin contact with her. I wondered what sex would be like with her. Was she gentle? Rough? Maybe a little bit of both. I bit my lip pulling away from her hand.

"I'm..." I trailed off when I noticed Armani giving me a weird look. "I'm good, I can just follow," I said, nodding my head in the direction we were walking.

She nodded hesitantly, furrowing her brows—but only for a moment, until her face faded back into her usual serious look.

When we made it to one of the large shiny kitchens, I stood by Armani as she gathered pots and pans, putting them on the gas cooktops. She switched the stove on, not wasting time coating the pans in olive oil.

I watched her carefully as she multitasked between cooking different things—what she was cooking, I had no idea. However, I couldn't help but watch her maneuver through the kitchen gracefully. I had only seen a few people cook like that in my life.

"You should probably sit down," Armani said as she stirred the steaming red sauce.

I narrowed my eyes, a little surprised that she could assume I was standing even if she was fully turned around and focused on another task at hand. "I'm fine," I said, knowing I was actually intrigued, watching her cook. Of course, I wouldn't tell her that though.