The words sound ridiculous even to my ears, and I curse myself. What kind of shitty-ass plan was this? I’m such an idiot.
But Magnolia merely giggles and gestures with her hand for me to come in.
“Sure, no problem, Mr. Sterling,” she says. “I’m sure we have plenty of sugar to share.”
I step into the house and follow the teen girl into the kitchen, my eyes on her ass the whole time. Her hips sway with every step and I wish we were headed to her bedroom, but all in good time. Meanwhile, it takes a while to get to the kitchen because like everyone in Cedar Toms, the Talbots have more of a manor than a house. We pass a living room with vaulted ceilings and brown leather furniture, and then a dining room with heavy curtain swags and a huge dining table that could easily seat twenty. When we get to the kitchen, I see that it’s worthy of a professional chef. Giant stainless steel appliances line the walls and the counters appear to be made of cream Calacatta marble veined with grey. It’s gorgeous, and Maggie giggles while striding to the cupboards.
“Let me see,” she muses to herself while browsing through the shelves. “Where does my mom keep this stuff? I have to say I don’t cook much myself, so this is really Victoria’s kingdom.”
I watch, open-mouthed, as she bends over to continue her search, that big bottom rising in the air. Shit. Her skirt has practically flipped over her back and I want nothing more than to bury my mouth in that round rump while making her moan. But finally, she pops up with a box of sugar in hand.
“Here you go,” she says, pushing the pink box over the counter at me. “We have some reserves down there, so just take the whole thing.”
I nod.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it. You don’t know what a life saver you are.”
Maggie nods and giggles before leaning against the counter while putting her hands on the edge. The effect is that her breasts jut out, straining more against her tiny top.
“So Mr. Sterling, you own pizza parlors, you said? Anything I’d know?"
"Maybe," I chuckle. "Actually, probably yes. They’re called Burrata and I have about sixty locations in the Tri-State area so most people in this region know of them. Have you ever been?"
Maggie’s eyes go wide and she lets out a gasp. "Yeah totally! I’ve been to the Burrata in Englewood Cliffs like a million times. My favorite pizza is the pie with anchovies and basil. It’s ah-may-zing.”
I grin. "Yeah, and that’s one of my inventions actually. I try to have unusual selections for our customers, and of course, we use a lot of burrata cheese too."
Maggie giggles. "I know, and it’s incredible because I didn’t even know what burrata was until I went to one of your stores for the first time.”
I chuckle.
“Yeah, burrata’s just the fancy term for cow milk cheese made of mozzarella and cream. So it’s fancy mozzarella really, but lots of people like it because it’s creamier, and you really can only use it when it’s fresh. Even burrata that’s two-days old is considered past its prime, and I wouldn’t recommend it. Not even as a pizza topping.”
Maggie laughs.
“But that’s the best part! I didn’t even know you could put burrata on pizza. What a genius move, Mr. Sterling."
I chuckle and move to stand next to her, leaning on the counter.
“Well, I hope you’ll come by one of our stores soon. Actually, just let me know if you have plans and I’ll make sure the manager comps you.”
Maggie giggles, her brown curls bouncing.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
I pause a beat, the air between us going thick.
"Well, I’d like to because you know, Maggie, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw your dance the other night. It was breathtaking, if you don’t mind me saying."
She gasps, her cheeks going pink.
“Oh right,” she says in a small voice. “You saw.”
“I did,” I nod. “You were beautiful, honey, and I enjoyed every moment of it. You were inventive too, which I appreciate. Where did you learn to do that with your thong?”
She blushes fire-engine red then, and her voice is faltering when she finally speaks.
“You mean, pushing it into myself?”
I nod, blue eyes glinting.
“Yes. Exactly that.”
She swallows, looking at the ground.
“Well, you see I’m a very sensual person,” she whispers, unable to meet my eyes. “It comes naturally. Actually, I might have read a Playgirl or Penthouse or two.”
My eyes flare as my body hardens.
“Really? Does that titillate you?”
Her eyes flicker to mine for a moment, and I can see that she’s very aroused.
“It does, Mr. Sterling. And I wondered if you’d fit in with those Playgirl spreads too. You know, the ones where the man is naked and showing his stuff. They’re so big, but I have wondered if you might be that same big size.”