The flip was done. The kitchen felt smaller. Warmer. Full of something neither of them dared break.

Sophie's gaze moved to the omelette.

"We did it, I did it!" she declared proudly.

Bruce chuckled. "Impressive."

She narrowed her eyes again. "Watch me improve. Next time I won't need your help with the flipping part and maybe someday I'll make it better than yours someday."

Bruce leaned closer with a teasing smirk.

"I'd like to see you try."

The omelette sizzled gently on the stove, finishing beautifully.

But the heat in the room had nothing to do with cooking.

At this point Sophie attentive knew that the flipped other side should be golden as well.

They plated the omelette a few seconds later, warm, slightly misshaped, but smelling surprisingly good.

Sophie held a fork and lifted one bite toward Bruce.

"Here," she said, smiling softly. "Taste it."

Bruce leaned forward, tasting her first-ever omelette.

Sophie watched nervously.

"…Not bad," Bruce said.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Pretty good."

Sophie immediately exhaled in relief.

"Good. Because I'm definitely practicing. Next time… it'll be perfect."

Bruce smiled.

"I'll hold you to that."

After a long quiet silence, Sophie spoke softly.

"…I like moments like this."

Bruce blinked, surprised. "Like what?"

"Like this," she repeated quietly. "Where it's just you and me… doing something simple… but it still feels special."

Bruce looked at her, really looked at her.

Her cheeks were slightly pink from the heat of the pan. A few strands of hair fell near her face. Her eyes reflected the warm kitchen lights.

She looked beautiful.

"…I like it too," he said honestly.

Sophie's smile softened.

Sophie placed the plate between them filling it with the omelette, her eyes shining with a soft warmth.

"Let's eat it together," she said, Bruce nodded.

With that they moved to outside the kitchen to a couch to eat...

The kitchen heat still clung to them, soft and warm, as they carried the plate out together.

She sat on his lap again like before her ass pressing softly on his lap blessing Bruce with that wonderful feeling.

With that, they shared her omelette slowly, talking, laughing lightly, enjoying the simple comfort of being together.

By the time they finished...

Sophie leaned back with a long, satisfied breath.

"…I like cooking with you," she admitted softly.

Bruce chuckled.

"And I like supervising you."

She elbowed him lightly. "Hey!"

He laughed, and she joined him. Their laughter slowly faded... but the warmth didn't.

The warmth lingered as Sophie fed him the last omelette.

She winked at him.

"Being here with you… doing normal things…"

His thumb brushed her cheek. "It... feels good."

A small smile bloomed on Sophie's lips, softer than sunlight.

"Well…" she whispered, leaning a little closer. "I like doing normal things with you too."

Their foreheads hovered a breath apart, the air between them thick with heat and unspoken want. Sophie's eyes, dark and glassy with desire, locked on Bruce's.

Then, in one fluid motion, she spun to face him fully, her hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, fingers curling possessively as she pushed him back against the top cushion of the couch they were seated on

She straddled him without hesitation, thighs parting to settle over his hips, the thin fabric of her shorts and his jeans doing nothing to hide the hard line of him pressing up against her.

A slow, deliberate roll of her hips dragged a low groan from his throat. She did it again, slower, savoring the way his hands instantly clamped onto her waist like he was afraid she'd vanish.

Her fingertips traced lazy, burning paths up his chest, over the stretched cotton of his t-shirt, then higher, along the tense column of his throat, until she reached his jaw.

She outlined it with reverence, thumb brushing the stubble there, before dragging the pad of one finger across his lower lip, slow, teasing, watching his mouth part on a ragged inhale.

Sophie leaned in until her breasts pressed flush to his chest, the soft weight of them crushed between them, nipples already tight beneath her top. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear.

"Bruce…" The word came out shaky, soaked in lust. "I can't take it any longer. You're driving me insane."

She didn't wait for an answer. Her mouth found the side of his neck, open and wet, sucking hard enough to leave a mark just below his jaw.

She dragged her lips lower, tongue flicking over his pulse, then lower still, latching onto the strong ridge of his Adam's apple. She sucked there too, feeling it bob against her tongue as he swallowed hard.

"I want all of you, Bruce," she whispered again, voice raw. "Every single inch."

And then she kissed him.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was hunger given form.

Her lips crashed into his, soft but demanding, sucking his bottom lip between hers and biting just hard enough to make him hiss. The second his mouth opened, her tongue slipped inside, hot and slick, curling against his with a desperation that stole the air from both their lungs.

She tasted faintly of the omelette they'd shared earlier, salt and butter and something uniquely them now, and the flavor sent a fresh surge of heat straight between her legs.

Bruce answered instantly. His hands slid from her waist to grip her ass, pulling her down harder against him as his tongue met hers in a fierce, messy duel. They weren't kissing so much as devouring, mouths sliding, breaths coming in sharp, wet pants between the slick push and retreat of tongues.

Sophie moaned into him, the sound vibrating against his lips, and he swallowed it greedily. His tongue stroked hers in long, filthy drags, then flicked teasingly at the roof of her mouth before plunging deep again. She chased him, sucking on his tongue like she couldn't get enough, hips grinding in slow, relentless circles that matched the rhythm of their kiss. Bruce got even more hard with the teases of her grinding hard against him...

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