“There’s something in there.” I peer down the hall, then I stride after the dog.
“Wait!” She rushes after me.
Pepper is at a closed door, drooling and jumping up on her hind legs.
“Look,” Mandy pleads as she squeezes herself between me and the door. “I’ll tell you, but promise me you won’t be too mad. You can be a little bit angry—just don’t go nuclear, okay?”
Now I’m curious. “What can you possibly have in there?”
Reaching behind her, I turn the door handle while she protests.
Pepper rushes into the catering kitchen.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room.” I slowly walk in the windowless space. “To be honest, I think I forgot it was here.”
“Must be nice to own real estate in Seattle that you can completely forget about.”
I take a breath to make a quippy response, then I’m salivating just as badly as Pepper, who is sprawled out panting in front of a huge double oven.
“It’s…” I take another deep whiff of the most amazing aroma in the world. “That smells like my lunch. Wait, thatismy lunch. What the hell?”
“No,” Mandy counters as I slowly approach the oven. “It’s my lunch that I feed you.”
“What the fuck?” I mutter as I open one of the oven doors. The heat and delicious, meaty, slightly spicy smell ofthe Greek casserole wash over me like a loving embrace. It takes every ounce of self-control not to join Pepper on the floor and watch it cook. “You said it was from a restaurant.”
“To be fair, I never said that. You assumed.” She crosses her arms over her chest in stubborn defiance. “You can’t be mad. You like your lunch—you’re always requesting it.”
I’m shaking my head, incredulous.
“I dropped your lunch one day awhile back,” she admits. “It was an emergency.”
There’s more to that story, but I’m suddenly starving. For the food, yes, but also for her.
She’s apprehensive as I approach and back her up against the cold metal of the prep counter.
“You know my two favorite things to eat? That dish and your pussy.”
Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms around my neck. She kisses my mouth, my face, my nose like she can’t get enough of me, like I’m the only thing in the world she wants, like she loves me. By the time we make it up to my bedroom, she has my tie off and my shirt buttons almost all undone.
I kick my shoes off and throw her down on the bed.
She drags my face down to her by my shirt collar, kissing me like she knows what she wants, and it is me.
“You said you were going to eat my pussy.” She tries pushing my head down. I shake her off, smirking at her.
“I just found out that I have my own little machine that makes my favorite meal. I think that calls for more than eating your ass, sweetheart.”
“You know,” she gasps as I undo my belt, “I think that’s the most appreciative anyone’s ever been of my cooking.”
She reaches for my zipper, but I grab her hands, forcing them above her head.
Her back arches as she strains against me, her chin banging into my mouth. “You gonna fuck me like this?”
“No.” I grab the leather cuffs connected to the bed frame and tighten them around her wrists before she can register what I’m doing.
“What the—Salinger, what the hell?”
“You’re the one who said she wasn’t some inexperienced virgin,” I remind her as she yanks on the cuffs that secure her to the foot of the bed.
