Page 87 of Hungry Like the Wolf

When she pushed into the kitchen, she saw Robbie in his usual cooking uniform of gym shorts and a T-shirt with an apron slung over his neck and tied around his waist. His back was to her, and he was stirring something on the stove. It smelled heavenly.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but he looked over his shoulder when she came in, so in tune to her always.

“I smelled you coming almost as soon as you left the cabin,” he said with a grin. “How was your last session?”

“Fine,” she said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek between his shoulder blades.

“You hungry?”

“I wasn’t, but now I am. That smells amazing.”

He spun in her arms and hugged her rightly, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head.

“It’s molé,” he said. “I read an article about it the other day and wanted to try it.”

“Fancy,” she said, closing her eyes and nuzzling into his chest. He smelled like funnel cake always, because he always wanted her, but also clean sweat and chocolate and chilies and onions.

He lifted her up and put her on the counter next to the stove. He opened a drawer and took out a spoon, which he dipped into the molé before blowing on it. Once it was cool enough for his liking, he lifted it to her lips.

“Try it.”

It tasted as delicious as it smelled. She smiled. “Well, now I’m starving.”

He stepped in between her knees and reached over, turning the knob on the stove down to a simmer.

“Starving, you say. We can’t have that. Least of all me. What would people say if it got out that my mate was starving? I’d get kicked out of the pack.”

She snorted. His grin was bright.

“Come here,” he said. “I’ve got an idea for the next Must Love Dukes scene, but I want to make sure the logistics are right.”

“The logistics?”

“You know. The limbs and all. Can’t have too many legs in a scene.”

“What are you talking about—Robbie!” she shrieked as he lifted her off the counter and carried her across the kitchen to a back prep table in the corner.

“Stay,” he said, pointing his finger at her. He went to the back door, closed and locked it. Then he went to the door that led from the kitchen to the rec hall and dropped his apron over the exterior knob before closing that, too.

“Good girl,” he said when he returned to stand between her knees. “Staying where I told you to. You deserve a treat.”

Nadja rolled her eyes. “What’s with the apron on the door?”

“It’s code.”

“Code?”

“Yeah. Like a sock on the door. If the apron’s on the door, chef’s busy.”

“Isn’t chef always busy?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Okay, correction. Chef’s getting busy,” he said, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but then he kissed her and she couldn’t say anything else.

Later, they lay next to each other on the stainless steel prep table, a white cotton tablecloth draped over their nakedness as they caught their breath. When Robbie had said she deserved a “treat,” he’d apparently meant edging her until she nearly cried before making her come three times.

“That was great,” he said, smiling at the ceiling, one arm behind his head and the other holding her close to him.