“ARE YOU SURE I can’t help with any

“ARE YOU SURE I can’t help with anything?” I asked, pressing mute on the TV once again, as the sounds of clanging pots and pans came bustling forth from the kitchen.
“I’m okay!” Lailah hollered back.
I turned around from my place on the sofa to see her moving about in the kitchen like a chaotic housewife. Wrapped in a frilly pink apron—given to her by Grace as a housewarming gift when Lailah had moved in here—she darted from the refrigerator to the stove and then back to the counter where her recipe book rested. Then, she just repeated the process.
Placing my head on the back of the sofa, I grinned. “Positive?”
She stopped mid-step and turned to see me watching her from the couch. A quirky smile spread across her face. “Maybe. Okay, you want the honest truth?”
“Of course,” I answered, my head perking up to listen.
“I am in way over my head,” she groaned. “Thanksgiving dinner—even for two people? It’s hard! I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
I laughed, rising from the sofa to join her in our massive kitchen. I never understood why Roman had selected such a large place for me to live in when I arrived back home. I knew he was outlandish, having a place several floors above us that was twice the size of ours, but when I’d entered this house for the first time, all I had seen was empty space.
With Lailah here, it finally felt like a home.
“Can I please help you now?” I begged. “I know men are supposed to sit around, watching football, on this particular holiday, but I’d much rather spend time with you.”
“Even if I put you to work?” she asked.
“I have many fond memories of the two of us in kitchens,” I said, remembering a similar situation much like this where we stood around a large metal counter and attempted to cook a meal together. It hadn’t been a date—at least, I hadn’t planned it that way—but it was the first time I’d seen her as something more than just a girl whom I owed a debt.
“I think your culinary skills have greatly improved since then,” she commented.
“Thank God for that.”
She put me on potato duty while she began assembling the apple pie.
“Remember when we went apple picking last fall?” she asked.
I watched her carefully measure out the cinnamon and sprinkle it over the heaping bowl of apples.
“Yeah. You were so excited that we ended up coming home with an entire bushel.” I laughed.
She gave me a doubtful look. “It was not that many. Maybe half. But I kept thinking about that last night as I was doing my last-minute grocery shopping, and I stopped to pick these up. I was enthralled with the entire process of apple picking—the cute little baskets, the fresh air and freedom to pick as many as you wanted. I remember feeling like that a lot during that first year after my recovery. I don’t ever want that to end.”
I stopped mid-potato and set the peeler on the counter. “Then, don’t. Just because you’ve been apple picking doesn’t mean it can’t be just as exciting and wondrous the second or third time around.”
“I know.” She smiled and moved toward me. Her hands were covered in cinnamon and sugar from mixing the apples together, and she had a mischievous look on her face.
My eyes followed her fingers as they slid up my arm and finally disappeared around my nape of my neck, leaving a sticky trail of sweetness behind. She reached my mouth and watched as I parted my lips and licked the sugar off her fingertips.
“Some things just keep getting better,” she whispered.
“Lailah,” I warned, gripping her hips hard.
Smirking, she placed the tip of her pointer finger on her satin lips, and as her lips closed over it, sucking the remnants of sugar with gusto, the last shred of control I had snapped.
My hands tightened around her waist before lifting and turning to hoist her onto the counter.
“Temptress,” I growled. Not giving her a single second to respond, I slammed my lips on hers, demanding everything she’d just offered.
Food was forgotten as clothes were shed, and bodies were joined. Every thrust reminded me that I was the luckiest man alive. Every kiss told me I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and every moan that escaped her lips echoed my heart that beat solely for her.
Everything I had was hers, and I willingly gave it to her, over and over again.


“It’s a good thing no one is coming over.” She giggled, looking at the mess in our kitchen.
“Well, it would be an interesting story to explain.”
It was well past midnight, and somehow, we’d managed to send bowls, food, and flour flying in every direction. Our lovemaking had been dirty and intense, causing a serious delay to dinner plans.
“So . . . pizza?” I asked.
She moved about the kitchen in nothing but my T-shirt. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “You order, and I’ll attempt to make some sense of all of this.”
I dialed the number to our favorite place down the street, knowing they’d still be open, and I ordered a large with everything. I ran to the bedroom to grab an extra shirt and a pair of boxers that weren’t covered in flour.
Once I was quickly changed, I darted back to the kitchen to offer my help with the disaster we’d created.
Lailah had already made great strides, packaging up everything perishable and putting canisters back in the pantry. She had now moved on to cleaning the counters. I took the job of sweeping and picking up whatever random things had ended up on the floor. Each bowl or dish I grabbed reminded me of how she’d looked pressed against the counter and then slung over the barstool. No matter how many times I had her, it never seemed to be enough to snuff out my burning desire for her.
I could spend a lifetime loving her, and I’d never stop wanting more.
Within thirty minutes, we had the kitchen cleaned up, and we were lounging on the couch with slices of fresh pizza.
“Best Thanksgiving meal ever,” she said before taking a big bite from the crust of her second slice.
“Absolutely.”
Amid flickering candles and cheesy holiday music, we ate pizza and talked about our lives. It was one more memory of Lailah I could add to the growing pile I had stored away in my mind. Each and every one, I cherished like a precious gift, knowing that none of this would have ever been possible if it weren’t for that beautiful new heart beating inside her chest.
We finished eating and headed to bed, going through the nightly rituals couples do to prepare for sleep. Once teeth were brushed and Lailah removed her makeup, we settled into bed, pulling the down comforter up around us.
“Want to play a game?” I asked, cuddling into her.
“If that is a sexual innuendo, you’ve got to give me an hour or so. My heart might be new, but it’s not a machine.”
I chuckled softly. “No, I meant an actual game.”
“Like Monopoly?” she asked, her eyebrows rising with curiosity. “’Cause you know I’m terrible at that one.”
“No. I was thinking something a little less structured,” I offered.
“Good. I’m not sure my brain can handle much more at this hour.”
“Okay, roll over,” I instructed.
I laughed as I watched her suspiciously eye me, but she did as I’d asked and rolled onto her stomach.
“Oh, and take off your nightgown,” I added.
Her head popped up to look at me as I innocently waved my hands in front of me.
“Just trust me.”
She lifted slightly as the hem of her nightgown rose above her head and fell into a heap next to her.
Opening her nightstand beside the bed, I pulled out a bottle of sweet-smelling lotion she loved and dropped a dollop on my palm. Warming it a bit, I began smoothing it up and down her soft skin in deep circles.
“Not that I mind”—she nearly groaned—“but this doesn’t seem to be much of a game.”
“Just wait,” I said.
Using the tip of my finger, I traced a pattern across her skin. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes,” she answered, her head tilted toward me as she laid on her stomach.
“What did I just draw?”
“A heart,” she replied, a small smile appearing from the corner of her mouth. “Do something else,” she said.
This time, instead of a shape, I made letters turning into a word.
“Wife,” she whispered.
“Yes.” I bent down, kissing the bare skin of her shoulder.
She turned and pulled me close, our lips touching softly like two young lovers meeting for the first time.
She pulled back, enough to slide her hand down toward the hem of my T-shirt before lifting it over my head. Then, the tips of her fingers skimmed my sensitive skin as she traced along the hard ridges of my stomach. Her eyes never left mine as she wrote invisible words along my flesh.
“I love you, too,” I whispered, closing the distance between us.
No other words were needed as we came together once more, claiming each other with silent promises, tender touches, and the moving melody of our souls.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

"Apakah Anda yakin aku tidak bisa membantu dengan apa-apa?" Saya bertanya, menekan bisu di TV sekali lagi, sebagai suara berdentang panci dan wajan datang ramai keluar dari dapur."Aku baik-baik saja!" Lailah berteriak kembali.Aku berbalik dari tempat saya di sofa untuk melihat nya bergerak di dapur seperti seorang ibu rumah tangga yang kacau. Terbungkus celemek merah berenda-diberikan kepadanya oleh kasih karunia sebagai hadiah pindah rumah ketika Lailah telah pindah di sini — dia kecilpun dari kulkas ke kompor dan kemudian kembali ke counter mana buku resep beristirahat. Kemudian, ia hanya mengulangi proses.Menempatkan kepala saya di belakang sofa, aku tersenyum. "Positif?"Dia berhenti pertengahan langkah dan berpaling untuk melihat saya memandangnya dari sofa. Senyum yang unik tersebar di wajahnya. "Mungkin. Oke, Anda ingin yang jujur dengan kebenaran?""Tentu," Aku menjawab, saya perking kepala untuk mendengarkan."Saya cara atas kepalaku," Dia mengerang. "Makan malam Thanksgiving — bahkan untuk dua orang? Sulit! Saya tidak yakin apa yang saya pikirkan."Aku tertawa, naik dari sofa untuk bergabung dengannya dalam dapur besar kami. Saya tidak mengerti mengapa Romawi telah memilih tempat yang besar bagi saya untuk tinggal di ketika aku tiba kembali ke rumah. Aku tahu dia adalah aneh, memiliki tempat beberapa lantai di atas kami itu dua kali ukuran kita, tetapi ketika saya telah memasuki rumah ini untuk pertama kalinya, Semua aku pernah melihat kosong.Dengan Lailah di sini, itu akhirnya merasa seperti di rumah."Saya harap bisa Anda sekarang?" Aku memohon. "Aku tahu laki-laki yang seharusnya untuk duduk-duduk menonton sepak bola, pada liburan ini tertentu, tapi aku lebih suka menghabiskan waktu dengan Anda.""Bahkan jika saya menempatkan Anda bekerja?" Dia bertanya."Saya memiliki banyak kenangan indah tentang kami berdua di dapur," kataku, mengingat situasi yang sama jauh seperti ini di mana kita berdiri di sekitar counter logam besar dan mencoba untuk memasak makanan yang bersama-sama. Itu belum tanggal — setidaknya, saya tidak merencanakan hal seperti itu- tapi itu adalah pertama kalinya aku telah melihatnya sebagai sesuatu yang lebih dari sekedar seorang gadis yang saya berutang utang."Saya pikir keterampilan kuliner Anda telah sangat membaik sejak saat itu," Dia berkomentar."Terima kasih Tuhan untuk itu."Dia menempatkan saya pada kentang tugas sementara dia mulai perakitan Pai apel."Ingat ketika kami pergi apple memilih musim gugur yang lalu?" Dia bertanya.Aku menyaksikan dia dengan hati-hati mengukur kayu manis dan Taburkan di atas mangkuk penumpukan apel."ya. Kau begitu gembira bahwa kami akhirnya datang ke rumah dengan seluruh bushel." Aku tertawa.Dia menatapku diragukan. "Itu tidak bahwa banyak. Mungkin setengah. Tapi aku terus berpikir tentang itu tadi malam seperti yang saya lakukan saya menit-menit terakhir berbelanja, dan aku berhenti untuk mengambil ini. Aku terpesona dengan seluruh proses apple memetik — keranjang kecil lucu, udara segar, dan kebebasan untuk memilih sebanyak yang Anda inginkan. Aku ingat merasa seperti itu banyak selama tahun pertama setelah pemulihan saya. Aku tidak pernah ingin itu berakhir."Aku berhenti pertengahan kentang dan mengatur pengupas di meja. "Maka, tidak. Hanya karena Anda telah memilih apel tidak berarti itu tidak dapat hanya sebagai menarik dan menakjubkan saat kedua atau ketiga di sekitar. ""Aku tahu." Dia tersenyum dan pindah ke arahku. Tangannya ditutupi kayu manis dan gula dari pencampuran apel bersama-sama, dan ia melihat nakal di wajahnya.Mataku diikuti jarinya karena mereka meluncur sampai lenganku dan akhirnya menghilang di sekitar tengkuk leher saya, saya meninggalkan jejak lengket manis di belakang. Dia mencapai mulutku dan menyaksikan saat aku berpisah bibirku dan menjilat gula dari ujung-ujung."Beberapa hal hanya terus mendapatkan lebih baik," ia berbisik."Lailah," saya memperingatkan, mencengkeram pinggul keras.Menyeringai, dia ditempatkan ujung jarinya pointer di bibirnya satin, serta bibirnya ditutup atas itu, mengisap sisa-sisa gula dengan penuh semangat, rusak terakhir pengendalian saya terputus.Tanganku diperketat pinggang sebelum mengangkat dan beralih ke hoist dia ke konter."Temptress," Aku berkata sambil menggeram. Tidak memberikan dia single kedua untuk menjawab, aku membanting bibirku miliknya, menuntut segala sesuatu yang dia telah hanya menawarkan.Makanan telah dilupakan seperti pakaian yang tertumpah, dan tubuh bergabung. Dorong setiap mengingatkan saya bahwa saya adalah pria paling beruntung hidup. Setiap ciuman bilang aku persis dimana saya seharusnya, dan setiap erangan yang melarikan diri bibirnya bergema hatiku yang mengalahkan semata-mata untuk dirinya.Semua yang saya miliki adalah miliknya, dan aku rela memberikan itu kepadanya, lagi dan lagi."Itu adalah hal yang baik tidak ada yang akan datang." Dia terkikik, melihat kekacauan di dapur kami."Yah, itu akan menjadi cerita yang menarik untuk menjelaskan."Itu baik lewat tengah malam, dan entah bagaimana, kita telah berhasil mengirim mangkuk, makanan, dan tepung terbang di setiap arah. Bercinta kami telah kotor dan intens, menyebabkan penundaan serius rencana makan malam."Jadi... pizza?" Saya bertanya.Ia pindah tentang dapur di apa-apa kecuali T-shirt saya. "Ya!" dia berseru. "Anda memesan, dan aku akan mencoba untuk membuat beberapa pengertian dari semua ini."Aku menelepon nomor ke tempat favorit kami di jalan, mengetahui mereka masih akan terbuka, dan aku memesan besar dengan segala sesuatu. Aku berlari ke kamar tidur untuk mengambil kemeja tambahan dan sepasang petinju yang tidak tercakup dalam tepung.Setelah saya dengan cepat berubah, saya kecilpun kembali ke dapur untuk menawarkan bantuan saya dengan bencana yang telah kami buat.Lailah sudah membuat langkah besar, Kemasan atas segala sesuatu yang tahan lama dan menempatkan tabung kembali di pantry. Dia sekarang telah pindah ke pembersihan counter. Aku mengambil pekerjaan menyapu dan mengambil hal-hal acak apa pun telah berakhir di lantai. Setiap mangkuk atau hidangan aku menyambar mengingatkan saya pada bagaimana ia tampak ditekan terhadap counter dan kemudian tersandang di kursi bar. Tidak peduli berapa kali saya punya, tidak pernah tampak cukup untuk menghabisi keinginan saya terbakar untuknya.Aku bisa menghabiskan seumur hidup mencintai dia, dan saya tidak akan pernah berhenti menginginkan lebih.Dalam waktu tiga puluh menit, kita memiliki dapur dibersihkan, dan kami sedang bersantai di sofa dengan irisan segar pizza."Best Thanksgiving meal pernah," katanya sebelum mengambil gigitan besar dari kerak slice kedua nya.“Absolutely.”Amid flickering candles and cheesy holiday music, we ate pizza and talked about our lives. It was one more memory of Lailah I could add to the growing pile I had stored away in my mind. Each and every one, I cherished like a precious gift, knowing that none of this would have ever been possible if it weren’t for that beautiful new heart beating inside her chest.We finished eating and headed to bed, going through the nightly rituals couples do to prepare for sleep. Once teeth were brushed and Lailah removed her makeup, we settled into bed, pulling the down comforter up around us.“Want to play a game?” I asked, cuddling into her.“If that is a sexual innuendo, you’ve got to give me an hour or so. My heart might be new, but it’s not a machine.”I chuckled softly. “No, I meant an actual game.”“Like Monopoly?” she asked, her eyebrows rising with curiosity. “’Cause you know I’m terrible at that one.”“No. I was thinking something a little less structured,” I offered.“Good. I’m not sure my brain can handle much more at this hour.”“Okay, roll over,” I instructed.I laughed as I watched her suspiciously eye me, but she did as I’d asked and rolled onto her stomach.“Oh, and take off your nightgown,” I added.Her head popped up to look at me as I innocently waved my hands in front of me.“Just trust me.”She lifted slightly as the hem of her nightgown rose above her head and fell into a heap next to her.Opening her nightstand beside the bed, I pulled out a bottle of sweet-smelling lotion she loved and dropped a dollop on my palm. Warming it a bit, I began smoothing it up and down her soft skin in deep circles.“Not that I mind”—she nearly groaned—“but this doesn’t seem to be much of a game.”“Just wait,” I said.Using the tip of my finger, I traced a pattern across her skin. “Do you feel that?”“Yes,” she answered, her head tilted toward me as she laid on her stomach.“What did I just draw?”“A heart,” she replied, a small smile appearing from the corner of her mouth. “Do something else,” she said.This time, instead of a shape, I made letters turning into a word.“Wife,” she whispered.“Yes.” I bent down, kissing the bare skin of her shoulder.She turned and pulled me close, our lips touching softly like two young lovers meeting for the first time.She pulled back, enough to slide her hand down toward the hem of my T-shirt before lifting it over my head. Then, the tips of her fingers skimmed my sensitive skin as she traced along the hard ridges of my stomach. Her eyes never left mine as she wrote invisible words along my flesh.“I love you, too,” I whispered, closing the distance between us.No other words were needed as we came together once more, claiming each other with silent promises, tender touches, and the moving melody of our souls.