“Making sausage is hard work,” I explained, demonstrating how he should cut the meat up into rough chunks.
“You have to have enough leverage to force it down into the grinder.” I climbed up so my knees were on the counter. Matt’s hand was on my back steadying me. Unfortunately, I was short and normally needed a ladder to get the required leverage. I had no ladder, so we had to improvise.
If there was no one else here, he could totally eat you out in this position.
“You turn it on and just press down until it all comes out,” I said. “Voila!”
Matt grabbed me around the waist and swung me down.
“I think I have it.”
And I think I have it bad for him, I decided as Matt, who did not need a step stool, started grinding the meat. His biceps bulged as he shoved the meat into the hole of the grinder.
Yeah, baby, just like that.
I crossed my legs. I was feeling a little tingly.
Stop thinking about his arms.
But it was hard not to. As I chopped up the rest of the ingredients for the puddings, I was very aware of Matt’s big muscular arms and the rest of him. Which was also quite large.
He has a very nice ass.
Focus, I scolded myself as I almost chopped a finger off because I was trying not to obviously stare at him.
But I couldn’t help thinking about what Hensley had said. She must know Matt better than I did. And she was totally convinced he wanted to sleep with me.
The question was, did I want to sleep with him?
35
Matt
Ismiled to myself.
Merrie kept sneaking glances at me. She was trying to be subtle about it, but I knew.
“Meat’s all ground up.” I slid the two bowls across the counter. “And I chopped up the bacon.”
“Look at you taking initiative. Guess he’s not just a pretty face after all.”
“What’s next?”
She seemed slightly frazzled as she looked at her notepad.
“Boil water with salt for the potatoes. And chop up the onion and the leek. Oh shoot, where is the leek?” I helped her move ingredients around.
“Can you grab one from the pantry?” she asked, starting to chop the onions.
“Sure.”
She narrowed her eyes and paused mid-chop. “Do you know what that is?”
“Yes,” I lied. Surely the pantry would have things labeled.
Except that it did not.
I was searching on my phone for a leek and trying to figure out which of the leafy green vegetables it was when I felt fingernails trail on the back of my neck.
