Some Like It Spicy (13 page)

“I’m ready for speedy Ty again. I’d like to see how fast he can get his clothes off.”

He unbuttoned his shirt just enough to pull it over his head. Then, he kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and slid off his jeans and boxers in one motion. After tossing away his socks, he stood for her inspection.

She rose beside him, slipping off her bra as she did, so they were both fully naked.

As his hand reached for her breast, she swatted it away. “It’s my turn to look at you.”

Obligingly, he lowered his hand and got a taste of his own medicine.

Since she had his face memorized, Ashton started her inspection at his chest, to the brown swirls of hair that covered nipples the color of a perfectly aged rose wine. Her gaze lowered to the brown thatch leading from his navel to between his legs, where he stood proudly at attention. Moisture rose in her mouth as she stared at him and she licked at her lower lip to keep from drooling.

“Do I meet with your approval?”

Ty’s question came with a lilt in his voice, but like hers earlier, the joke was missing. Could he actually be self-conscious? It was hard to believe.

Perhaps it was a little sweet revenge, but she wanted to keep him guessing. A little. “You’ll do.”

She moved her hands to his chest, rubbing in circles, loving the feel of his soft hair against her skin. As she ran her thumbs over his nipples, she felt them harden into tiny nubs. She had to know what they tasted like.

Ty’s stomach sucked in as her tongue played. She had just decided to bottle the taste when she was yanked from him.

“Hey,” she yelped as Ty swept her up in his arms.

He deposited her on the bed and then crawled over her. As his body covered hers, his face loomed above. “Ashton, the time has come to speed things up.”

He crushed his lips against hers in a searing kiss that left her speechless. His lips moved across her jaw, down her neck, until they reached her breasts. He covered one with his hand, and the other with his mouth.

As he laved and played with her, she writhed beneath him, one hand gripping his head to her, the other against his back. She fingered the cords of his muscles, squeezing when the pleasure became nearly too intense.

Suddenly, he lunged for the nightstand, pulled out a foil package, and before she could even utter a thank-you for remembering, he had the condom in place.

And then, God, yes, he moved between her thighs, wrapped her legs around him, and plunged deep within her.

Sounds ripped from both their throats. Growls, groans, moans, sighs, some weren’t even recognizable. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on as he rode her back into outer space.

She wanted to look at him as he took her into orbit, see the intensity and pleasure on his face. But she couldn’t keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head as sensation after sensation filled her.

And when her peak hit, she was crying out his name again. Moments later, he was crying out hers.

He collapsed against her chest, breathing in heavy pants.

Her arms were still around him, caressing his damp back.

“Wow,” she whispered against his ear.

Ty grunted, apparently too exhausted to speak.

“That was the best cooking lesson I’ve ever had.”

He managed to lift his head, look down at her, and laugh.

Exhausted, they both fell asleep for a few hours, waking up near midnight, starving.

Ty’s body blanketed Ashton, his head resting against her chest. She stroked the top of his head. “There’s always pizza.”

“I think we dropped it,” he replied. His hand cupped her breast, possessive rather than seductive.

“
You
dropped it,” she reminded him. “We could order a pizza.”

“We’re chefs. I think we can scrounge up something to make.”

Standing, though, meant the awkwardness of searching for clothes and undergarments and seeing each other with bed head. She knew it was the beginning of the end, as far as any relationship between them was concerned. And she wasn’t ready yet.

Her stomach, apparently, thought differently, as it chose that moment to let out a noise resembling a freight train.

“Come on,” Ty said, using his arm to lift her.

She moaned in protest as her feet hit the cold wood floor.

“Don’t move,” Ty said. He disappeared into the closet, returning in a pair of boxers, with a shirt and a pair of socks hanging from his arm.

When she tried to take the shirt from him, he swatted her hand away and placed it over her shoulders himself. She squirmed as he buttoned just enough to keep the shirt on her shoulders, half hating the feeling of vulnerability he inspired and half hoping he’d rip the shirt off and fling her back on the bed, growling stomach be damned.

Instead, she let him kneel at her feet and dress her in heavy wool socks. He stood and held out his hand. “Come on.”

She took his hand and followed him into the kitchen.

The room was a mess. Opened ingredients were scattered and smeared across the counter, and Ty’s pizza was facedown on the ground. They did a quick cleanup and then opened the refrigerator to find something to eat.

“I have eggs,” Ty said. “We could make omelets.”

She scrunched her nose and peered over his shoulder. “How about sandwiches? You have brie and ham.”

Together, they grabbed the ingredients. Ashton sat on the island and let Ty take the reins. They ate the sandwiches in bed, feeding each other. The game turned sensual when Ty dropped a piece of ham in her navel and then sucked it out. She returned the favor by spreading brie across his nipple and taking her time to make sure she licked him clean.

Soon, they were rolling around the bed, the remainder of the sandwiches knocked carelessly to the floor.

They slept for a while, only to wake and start over again. After that last time, Ashton didn’t stop to cuddle in Ty’s arms. With a sigh, she slid from the bed and found her dress, soiled with the remnants of their cooking lesson. As she draped the garment over her body, Ty sat at the edge of the bed.

“Are you leaving?” he asked.

She nodded toward the clock. “I need to be back in the house before everyone wakes up.”

She slipped on her shoes and stood there for a minute, unsure of what to say.
Thanks for the lesson?
Or,
See you at the next challenge?
Nothing seemed right. Awkwardness inflated around them like a balloon, nearly suffocating her.

As she was about to mutter a good-bye and skulk away, Ty spoke up. “Where do we go from here?”

Ashton shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to say.
“Where do we go from here?”
A deserted island with a king-size bed, perhaps? Or maybe electroshock therapy.

She stepped closer to him. “What do you see happening?” she asked tentatively.

He surprised her by grabbing her hand and pulling her onto his lap. “I know what my contract with the show says—that I’ll be fired if I’m ever involved with a contestant and the station can take legal action against me for breach of contract.”

She shut her eyes as her stomach tightened. She figured a relationship was frowned upon, but she didn’t know he could get into legal trouble. She tried to scurry from his lap, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her in place.

“I also know that I’ve been walking around for the last year like a zombie and the moment I laid eyes on you, I suddenly felt alive again.”

She slumped back against him.

“I’m not ready to let you go, Ashton.”

“There are consequences for me, too,” she said with a sigh. “If I continue to win challenges and our relationship gets out, my reputation is ruined. It will follow me, Ty. For my entire career.”

His embrace got tighter and he buried his head against her neck. “I know and I would never do anything to hurt you. Do you want this to be over?”

Yes
sat on the edge of her tongue but refused to fall over her lips. With a strangled cry, she said, “No.”

His lips immediately fell on hers and she returned the kiss. Their tongues melded, they held each other like they’d never let go.

Breathless, Ty finally lifted his head. “So we’ll keep it between us. And if we think someone suspects, then we’ll break it off.”

She nodded, her heart pounding. “As soon as we get each other out of our systems, we’ll stop. Piece of cake.”

But she had to be careful. If she let her heart get involved, this piece of cake would get severely burned.

Chapter Twelve

Darkness still blanketed the brownstone when Ashton crept through the door. She had just enough time to sneak into bed before Jolene woke up to perform her morning ritual. With just a few hours of sleep, the day was going to be hell. But it was worth it, she reflected with a smile.

Leaving a lover had never been as hard as pushing out of Ty’s arms. After they’d decided to secretly continue their relationship, his kisses had become more urgent, more powerful. One hand had hovered over her breast, the other… God, it was a miracle she’d even been able to stand. Her bones had dissolved. Using willpower she didn’t even know she had, she’d managed to push away and make it across the room.

He’d tried to lure her back by throwing off the covers and exposing his best side—long and proud and obviously, desperately wanting her.

She’d glanced at the bedside table, calculating how quickly she could straddle his lap. She wouldn’t even need to take off her dress, and she could push her panties aside…

If only Jolene didn’t get up so god-awful early to pickle herself in those ridiculous antiaging creams.

“Later,” she’d told Ty, tilting her head toward his lap. “Make sure you have that ready for me next time.”

And she’d left.

She tensed as she put a foot on the first step of the brownstone, suddenly aware of every crick and squeak. Her breath caught with each and every tiny noise as she made her way to the second landing. When she passed Morgan’s room, she literally stopped breathing.

She finally reached her door, grabbed the handle, and slowly turned. The door creaked as she pushed it open. Heart pounding, she glanced at the other bed.

Jolene slept on her back, her eyes covered by a sleep mask, plugs peeking out of her ears to block out noise. Ashton’s heart rate slowed as she quietly closed the door, shimmied out of her dress, and crawled into bed.
Before she even had the opportunity to reach the REM cycle, Jolene’s alarm sounded. Ashton rolled onto her stomach, yanking her pillow over her head.

“Do you want me to set the alarm for another half hour?” Jolene whispered.

“Please,” Ashton mumbled.

She heard the patter of Jolene’s feet against the wood floor. The noise stopped before the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to get up and try one of my masks?” Jolene called.

Ashton pulled the pillow tighter over her head.

“You must have gotten home really late. Your bed was empty when I went to sleep at midnight. I have a great serum for tired eyes.”

Actually, she didn’t really need to worry about looking tired. The sex glow pretty much overrode droopy lids. “I got home right after midnight,” Ashton lied. “You were already asleep.”

Jolene didn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “Sure, okay.”

Her tone made Ashton pause. Did Jolene know? Ashton twisted to her back and sat up, but Jolene had already left. No, she tried to convince herself, Jolene couldn’t possibly have known how late—or how early—Ashton had arrived home. Jolene’s sleeping habits were as reliable as an egg timer; she was out like a light within five minutes of putting on her sleep mask and didn’t wake up until her alarm sounded.

Jolene didn’t know anything. And as long as she didn’t, Ashton wouldn’t have to give up Ty. Yet.

After lingering in bed longer than she should, Ashton quickly dressed in loose khaki pants and a thin T-shirt. As she headed toward the stairs, she ran into Morgan, who was leaving her own room.

Morgan was the last person she wanted to see first thing. She needed at least one cup of coffee to deal with her attitude. Ashton steeled herself, waiting for the hit she knew was sure to come.

But Morgan barely glanced at her. That’s when Ashton noticed that Morgan looked as tired as she did. Her lids flitted up and down as if too heavy to hold up. Shadows bagged under her eyes. Her cheeks, though, were rosy and glistening and…glowing! As if she’d spent the night in a similar way as Ashton.

No way! Forget about the major ick factor of imagining Morgan getting busy. Who on Earth had gotten the ice princess to melt? Surely not Duffy or Jin, who both acted like they needed a cross and holy water whenever they came into contact with her. Could it be someone on set?

She couldn’t help a little jab. “Long night?”

Morgan’s cheeks instantly reddened. Interesting.

“Yeah. I was dreaming of all the ways I’m going to outcook you today.”

Ashton just smiled, making Morgan huff with anger.

The other chefs were already in the kitchen. Jin had the waffle maker going, but Ashton bypassed him and headed straight to the coffeemaker.

“How was last night?” Duffy asked.

Ashton nearly dropped the pot as she was pouring, causing a spray of hot liquid to pour on her hand. She hissed with pain.

“You okay?” Duffy handed her a towel.

“Fine,” she answered through her teeth. She dried the liquid from her hand. “And the cooking lesson went fine as well.”

“You’re so lucky,” Jolene commented. “I’d love the chance to get into Ty’s kitchen. Ashton, your face is flushed.”

Because she was thinking about what she had done in Ty’s kitchen. “Just tired,” she murmured.

Within a half hour, the vans picked them up, and as she walked through the double doors of the studio, Ashton immediately sought out Ty. Her gaze found him near the back of the studio, talking to some of the crew. He was laughing about something, animated, looking carefree in a way she’d never seen while he was on set. She couldn’t help but wonder—hope—that this change had something to do with her.

As if sensing her presence, he twisted his head in her direction. To anyone watching, he gave no outward appearance of acknowledging her presence. But to Ashton, she saw the fire smoldering in his eyes, the same flames that had burst as he’d taken her to heaven last night.

Molten lava oozed within her, dripping down her insides and filling her with heat. She couldn’t say for sure what was hotter—her face, or those areas of her body that craved his touch. Either way, if she didn’t get herself under control, their secret would be out.

Turning her back on him, she walked to the catering cart and hastily drank ice-cold bottled water.

Jolene sidled up beside her and put a hand on Ashton’s forehead. “You’re not getting sick, are you? You’ve been flushed all morning.”

She shook her head. “The crazy schedule is catching up to me, that’s all. I’ll be fine. See, I switched from coffee to water.” She held up the bottle.

Jolene eyed her and opened her mouth, but no words came out. She smiled, and then said, “Just make sure to take care of yourself. Have some protein.”

Ashton finished her water and ate a granola bar. She kept glancing at Sally, waiting for her to shout out for the chefs at the prep tables. When she overheard two of the crew members talk about a sound problem, she knew it would be a while before they started filming.

Some of the other chefs had brought stuff to keep them busy. Books, magazines, iPods, movies. Ashton had stuck Anthony Bourdain’s newest book in her backpack, but she was too wound up to read. Restless energy quaked within her. Sally told her to stay nearby, so Ashton walked around the studio, trying to use up her edginess.

As she walked in the back of the studio, past a stack of boxes, a hand grabbed her wrist. She didn’t have the time to scream before she was yanked through a door.

The room was pitch black, only the sound of her heavy breathing and someone else.

Fresh, clean, masculine. She knew that scent. “Ty,” she breathed.

He didn’t answer; he was too busy nibbling at the pulse on her throat, now beating all too frantically.

“What…?” She sucked air through her teeth as his hands moved from her waist to her breasts. “Are you crazy?”

“You’re making me crazy,” he said against her skin.

“We’re supposed to be careful.”

“Then you shouldn’t have looked at me like you wanted to rip my clothes off with your teeth.”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “I didn’t!” She paused. “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his smile. “You’re lucky I didn’t let you do it, right in the middle of the set.”

She dropped her head against his chest and groaned. “I thought I was playing it cool. Maybe this whole thing is a mistake.”

His grip tightened on her. “No.”

“But—”

“We just need to be more careful about how we look at each other.”

She kissed him, long and lingering, her fingers combing through his hair, her body melded with his.

How long could this sound problem take? Another fifteen minutes, at least. More than enough time to shed a few necessary articles of clothing. She moved her fingers to his fly.

Ty swore and backed away. “We can’t do this here.”

She eased her fingers down the waistband of his pants. “Come on, you started it.” She tickled the cleft of his chin with her tongue. “Now finish it.”

“You’re killing me,” he growled. But his fingers joined hers to unzip his fly.

She’d just wrapped her hand around his hot, hard length when the sound of muffled voices reached through the door.

They both froze. Well, except for the little quakes raking through Ty’s body at the inopportune interruption.

“I guess you’re right about the timing,” she whispered.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “
Now
you agree with me?” He yanked his pants back up. “The voices are gone. Go ahead and I’ll be along in a minute.”

Ashton smoothed her hair, righted her clothes, and opened the door. No one was coming down the hall. She made it back to the set unnoticed.

Finally, Sally called for the chefs. “We have a Medium Heat challenge today,” she announced.

The chefs cheered. Medium Heat challenges were fun because no one had the fear of elimination. If you lost, it didn’t count against you, but the winner got an advantage in the next elimination challenge. Ashton fully intended to win.

Sally raised a hand to silence them. “And it’s an outdoor challenge, so let’s head out back.”

Ashton’s throat contracted. If the challenge took place outside, they were being thrown some kind of curveball. She hoped it wasn’t anything like the race to the vans. If she was expected to balance an egg on a spoon while walking blindfolded, she could declare herself loser now.

She followed the cast and crew through the back doors of the studio. Immediately, her jaw slacked and she lifted her lips.

The courtyard was lined with charcoal barbecues. Nearby, picnic tables with red-and-white checked tablecloths were loaded with fresh produce, herbs, and other staples. Another table was covered with a white cloth, hiding the ingredients.

She glanced left and then right, gauging the reactions of the other chefs. No one looked unhappy about the challenge, but no one appeared happier than Duffy. Her shoulders dropped slightly remembering his unbelievable steaks. He was the one to beat.

Sally clapped her hands together. “Gather around. We’re going to begin filming.”

Ty waited for his cue, and then began. “Our first Medium Heat challenge is barbecue. This is not an elimination round, but the winner will get an advantage in the next challenge.” He paused for effect. “You will have forty-five minutes to barbecue a meal to include an entrée, side, and dessert. You may use anything on the ingredients table, plus you must use at least one item from our mystery ingredient table.”

Ashton eyed the covered table, wishing she had X-ray vision. She didn’t have to anticipate for long. Ty stepped over to the table and put one hand on the edge of the cloth.

“Today’s mystery ingredient is…” He whipped off the tablecloth. “Fish!”

Ashton joined the others in a gasp. An assortment of fish loaded the table, including a tank of live fish in the center. Several small nets leaned against the tank. She’d worked for chefs before who would have preferred to be with the meat from slaughter to sizzle, but she was not one of them.

Her mind raced with possible dishes. Fish could be incredibly difficult to barbecue. Some varieties were way too delicate to put directly on the grill—they would simply flake away and fall. If she chose the snapper, catfish, or flounder, she needed a grill basket. Salmon could be put directly on the grill; she would just need to be careful. But the best salmon dish she knew had a marinade, and she would need a minimum of a half hour to let it soak. She didn’t want to risk not having a dish ready.

Ty stepped away from the table. “Your time starts now.”

Ashton joined the pack that descended on the table. Several chefs, including Duffy and Morgan, went straight for the nets. Ashton surveyed the fish that had already breathed their last breath.

The whitefish looked nice, but she’d always found the flavor kind of bland, boring. Sea bass was a favorite of hers, but Jolene had already grabbed several. At the edge of the table sat a tray of tuna. Without a plan, she grabbed the tray and ran back to her station.

Now what? She tapped her forehead, willing a light bulb to go off. A Nicoise salad? No, that wouldn’t work. She liked rare tuna best for the dish and that would hardly show off her grilling skills. In fact, she liked rare tuna in general.

Panic hit her. Five minutes had already passed and she had no idea what to do. Why couldn’t they have a burger challenge? She had the best recipe and—

Lightbulb.

She grabbed her tray and raced to a table where they’d set up a few appliances, including a KitchenAid. She quickly attached the grinder and pushed the tuna through it, watching as the steaks ground.

Forty-five minutes later, when Ty called time, she had a plate in front of her of which she could be proud.

Ty, Andrea, and Claude approached her station first. She made a concentrated effort not to look in Ty’s eyes, but she couldn’t help the little shiver that ran through her when he asked, “What do you have for us, Ashton?”

“For my main course, I have a tuna burger. I ground the fresh tuna, added some garlic, ginger, spicy mustard, and a little cayenne pepper. It’s topped with Monterey jack cheese and a chipotle mayo. I’m serving it with a medley of summer squash, and for dessert, grilled pineapple topped with créme fraîche.”