The Spicier, The Better

I wrote this flash fiction for a friend’s blog a few weeks ago. For those that missed it, here is a cheeky tale featuring food and a frisson of the supernatural… 😉

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She watched him as dexterous hands chopped the vegetables. He hummed under his breath, one of the rock songs they both favoured. Onion, peppers…then he was reaching for the chillies. Her breathing quickened.

‘Hope you like it spicy,’ he said, slicing off stalks and removing seeds. If only he knew.

She stood behind him; slid her arms round his waist. ‘How lucky I am’, she teased, ‘To find a man who can cook.’

He turned in her embrace and kissed her. She tasted Corona, and the nachos they’d munched earlier. She tasted desire, and struggled for control. No, no…there would be plenty of time for that later.

They pulled away from each other, panting.

She broke the silence. ‘Get chopping, you.’ She poked him playfully in the ribs. ‘We’ll both need the energy for…afterwards.’

His eyes widened. ‘Couldn’t we just..?’ His voice was husky.

‘Nope. Food first.’ Well, one kind of food, for her.

He groaned, but resumed his action with the knife. She stepped back and studied him. He was pretty perfect: young, healthy, well-muscled but not too pumped up. Every so often a lock of hair fell forward into his eyes, and he pushed it away with an impatient gesture of those long, slender fingers.

‘So, don’t you like cooking?’ he asked over his shoulder, as he threw ingredients into a pot.

She shrugged. ‘Not really. I’ve never got good at it.’

‘I thought you said earlier that you were on some special diet? Don’t you have to make stuff for that?’ A thought occurred to him. ‘Oh…are you sure you’ll be all right to eat this? It’s my speciality, but it’s pretty hot…’

She worked to keep the smirk from her face. ‘It’ll be fine. It’s more like I need…supplements…rather than a special diet.’

‘Oh, right. So there’s something you can take for it?’

She eyed him greedily. ‘Oh yes.’

He had chopped five chillies by now, and was holding up a sixth, questioningly.

‘Go for it.’ She licked her lips. ‘In fact, use another two.’

‘You sure?’ At her emphatic nod, he chuckled. ‘A girl after my own heart!’

Oh yes, she thought, your heart, your soul…everything you’ve got to offer.

He tipped the vegetables into the pot and stirred. Her mouth watered, at the scent of the chilli con carne, and the scent of him. A sheen of sweat glowed on his skin as steam rose from the hob. As he put the knife in the sink, he winced and dropped it, raising his hand to his mouth.

She couldn’t help herself. ‘Let me see!’

He sucked his finger and held it out for her inspection. ‘It’s just a nick; it’s fine.’

She chewed her lip to stop herself from jumping on him. She kissed the bloody spot on his hand, licking a tiny bit as she did so. Mmm…delicious. Even better with some seasoning.

‘So,’ she said, letting go of him. ‘How are we doing?’

He stared at her for a moment, then ‘Oh!’ He faced the hob. Tasting the chilli, he looked pleased. ‘About five minutes, I reckon. Only…it could be a bit hotter, if you’re up for it?’ He held out the spoon.

She tasted. Yes, it was good – very good. She imagined his blood laced with all that spice, that hotness. Putting the spoon aside, she wrapped her arms round him and kissed his neck. His pulse throbbed just below the skin, inviting her fangs to descend and taste. No – not yet. Not until after the main course. Even with the chilli in his system, his blood would be sweet. A fitting dessert.

‘Go on then,’ she agreed, letting go of her dazed chef/ lover/dinner.

‘The spicier, the better.’

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