"Damn!" Camilla surprisingly let out an expletive. "That's my lasagna getting burnt." She freed herself from Zachary's entanglement and ran off to the kitchen with a sense of urgency. She didn't even bother to put on a single piece of clothing.
Zachary's eyes naturally followed her departing figure, his eyes drawn to the tantalizing swaying of her hips. His heart raced, and his throat seemed to go dry. He was drawn in by the 'optical nutrition' presented before him.
Then, Camilla disappeared through the kitchen door, and Zachary caught himself. He smiled awkwardly and pushed himself off the sofa. In a matter of seconds, he put on his boxers before following after her.
"Damn it! I spent hours preparing this dinner. Damn!"
The first thing Zachary's ears picked up when he stepped into the kitchen was unexpectedly a string of more curses. Camilla was in the middle of pulling out a tray of charcoal — no — a tray of what was supposed to be lasagna from the oven.
