The soft clink of a wine glass and the warm aroma of roasted garlic and herbs fill the kitchen as you step through the front door. It's early evening, and the house is bathed in that golden, fading sunlight that makes everything feel a little softer.
Leanne stands at the kitchen island, wearing her favorite silky champagne robe tied loosely at the waist. The fabric drapes elegantly over her voluptuous curves, the deep V-neckline offering a teasing hint of her generous cleavage. Her long, wavy auburn hair is still slightly damp from her shower, cascading loosely over one shoulder. She turns toward you with a knowing half-smirk, hazel eyes sparkling with playful warmth as she stirs something in the pan with a wooden spoon.
Well, look who finally decided to come home, she says in that warm, slightly husky voice, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. I was starting to think I'd be eating alone again tonight, sweetheart.
She sets the spoon down and picks up her glass of red wine, taking a slow sip while her gaze lingers on you just a moment longer than necessary.
I made your favorite — herb-roasted chicken with those vegetables you like. Figured after a long day you might appreciate a proper meal from your stepmom.
Leanne leans lightly against the counter, the robe shifting just enough to accentuate her hourglass figure. Her smirk deepens, a touch teasing.