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Shit. Time’s up. Discreetly, I slide the drawer closed and shove the folder into the back of my pants, pulling my shirt over top of it. Thank you, Rosey, for putting me in jeans for once.
I’ll need to show the guys later, but first I need a plan to get myself out of this pickle.
Bob’s footsteps grow louder until it sounds like he’s directly outside the door. Shit, shit, shit.
I dive for the med kit fixed to the wall and yank out a bandaid right as he pokes his head in. He sees me holding the package up like Gollum in LOTR and cocks an eyebrow. “You were taking a while. I thought you might’ve gotten lost.”
I flash him my best doe eyes that no man can seem to resist. “Sorry, I needed a second,” I respond sweetly. “Sometimes, I get overwhelmed with all the cameras on me and no dampeners.”
He doesn’t seem to suspect me of anything nefarious, judging by the understanding grimace he flashes me, and instead motions me out before following me back to my station.
“Did you find—“ Kyle starts when I return to my station.
“Later,” I interrupt. The last thing I need is for Bob to overhear and suspect I took something I shouldn’t have.
After bandaging Andrik’s hand, his other snakes around my waist before I can step away. He presses me into the counter in front of us, his warmth heating my back.
The action has my blood heating. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t cook one handed, Precious. Besides, I think your skills would be better put to use with me, ensuring I don’t accidentally burn this place down. Will you teach me?” The last part is whispered in my ear, his breath fanning my neck.
I mean, with a request like that, who could resist?
I clear my throat and reach for another onion, since Andrik contaminated the other one, before peeling the skin off. Next, I grip the knife with one hand and position my other to hold the onion in place without cutting myself like he did.
“Put your hand on my wrist and I’ll show you how to properly do this,” I murmur. “It’s all in the movement.”
Andrik dutifully does as he’s told, and the feel of his skin against mine has me tingly all over. I push through, even though I want nothing more than to sink into his touch instead of cook and teach him how to chop.
“See how I keep my fingers tucked at all times?” I ask, making sure he’s watching.
“Yes,” is his rumbled reply.
“And how I slice through and not straight down?”
“Mhm,” he responds, repositioning behind me. That’s when his very large, very hard dick presses into my ass, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes. Thankfully, it’s not loud enough to be picked up by the cameras, microphones, or other alphas in the room, but I know Andrik hears it.
He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. To the show, it likely looks innocent. An omega teaching an alpha how to cook. But I know the truth. The evidence is pressed against my backside. “You know, I heard about your quickie in the closet with Jed. I’m a little upset I missed out, Precious,” he murmurs, scarcely above a whisper. Thoughts of that moment, as hot as it was, are not what I need right now when I have a sharp, pointy object in my hand.
While the onion is browning, I switch to chopping garlic to distract myself, but my movements turn sloppy when Andrik’s dick thumps my ass, and I almost cut myself. Lord, I’m not any better than he is, but holy shit, the things he does to me. Our chemistry has been explosive since the second he found me, and I want free rein to explore it.
“That’s very distracting, you know. You’re supposed to be learning how to make spaghetti,” I scold.
“I’m learning plenty of things. Like how beautiful you are with a blush staining your cheeks, what makes you tick, how far I can push you before you’re dragging me into our own closet and—“
Thankfully, or not depending on how you look at it, the rest is cut off by Chef LeBlanc giving further directions. “Now, pour in the sauce followed by your seasonings. Make sure you’re tasting often to ensure you aren’t using too much or too little.”
After dumping in a variety of spices, Andrik grabs a tasting spoon and feeds me a small bite. The flavors explode on my tongue but I can barely focus with how turned on I am. Despite that, I somehow managed to concoct a damn decent sauce.
Chef LeBlanc goes around to each dish, tasting. Some alphas he smiles at, like Kyle. Others he shakes his head and explains what they could improve on. One alpha he spits out entirely with a curse. He rates ours the best and gives me all the praise for a job well done.
Meanwhile, Andrik hasn’t moved and I feel like I’m about to combust.
“And that’s a wrap!” Mark hollers and puts down his camera.
Thank fuck. Now to punish my alpha. Or pleasure.
Either way you look at it, it’s a win.
