Some Like It Spicy

by Robbie Terman

  “Eat up.” Jolene pushed the plate to her.

  She ate the sandwich, which wasn’t too bad, and downed a cup of coffee, for which Jolene flashed a disapproving stare.

  “Let me at least have one thing to feel normal.” But she drank a glass of water to appease her.

  Across the house, they heard the door swing open and footsteps approaching. Ashton craned her neck to see Clint, a camera on his shoulder, and Sally behind him.

  “Hello, chefs,” Sally said. “We’re about to leave for our location shoot. This is an overnight trip. Everyone have their bags?” Ashton, along with Duffy and Jolene, nodded.

  Sally stepped over to her. “You feeling okay, Ashton?”

  God, she couldn’t believe she’d fainted in front of all these people. She prayed it would end up on the cutting room floor, but she doubted she’d be that lucky. “I’m fine. Ready to get going.”

  “Good. Then let’s roll. We have a long two days ahead of us.”

  There was only one van at the curb. The three chefs climbed in the backseat, while Clint sat in the front and Sally drove.

  “Any clue where they’re taking us?” Duffy asked.

  “Hopefully another place like the bed and breakfast,” Jolene replied dreamily. “I could handle another night on the softest bed I’ve ever slept in.”

  Ashton’s lips curved as she thought of that soft bed and all the things she and Ty had done in it. The timing of this location shoot couldn’t have been better; if she didn’t get Ty naked soon, she was going to spontaneously combust. Another night, rolling around in a soft bed with soft, decadent sheets suited her purposes.

  But after driving an hour, they seemed to be on the road to nowhere. They left the city behind, and the highway went from six lanes to four lanes to two lanes. She watched as high-rise buildings gave way to houses and then trees. And then they drove another hour past that.

  “Now I’m getting nervous,” Duffy said, when they passed a caravan of motor homes. “We’re not doing a crossover with another show, are we? If we end up on Survivor, I’m gonna be pissed.”

  From the driver’s seat, Sally laughed. “No crossover, although it isn’t a bad idea. Maybe next season.”

  Twenty minutes later, Sally turned onto a dirt road and drove a few hundred feet before pulling to a stop. “We’re here.”

  Ashton stepped down from the van and looked around. They were in a clearing, surrounded by trees so tall, they must have outlived several generations. A large campfire decorated the center of the clearing, and surrounding it were two tiny tents and a small trailer.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Duffy cussed.

  “No,” Jolene said drily, her gaze on the tents, “they’re shitting me.”

  Ashton agreed with their assessments. She’d never been camping in her life; her father would have starved before eating something cooked over a pile of tree limbs.

  She eyed the tents with disgust. She and Jolene would probably share one and Duffy would get the second to himself. The trailer would house the crew? However they were divided, this pretty much killed her plans with Ty. Dammit.

  A limo pulled up as Ashton set her bag down near a tent. Andrea stepped out first, then Claude, and then Ty.

  Ty’s gaze landed on her, and he strode over, without acknowledging Sally or anyone else. “How are you feeling?” he asked. Concern and frustration filled his eyes. She could understand the frustration part; it would be difficult to throw herself in his arms with a dozen pairs of eyes on them.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “One hundred percent.”

  “Good.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Sally clapped her hands together.

  “We need to start filming. Judges, we have your mark over there.” She pointed. “Chefs, stand across from the judges.”

  Ashton took her mark. Her heart rate sped up as she waited to hear the challenge. If she got through this, she would be in the final two. Unless they decided to change the procedure of every other season, that meant a visit home. Thus far, she’d managed to avoid talking to her father, although her mother had left a few messages saying they “loved the show.” More likely, if her father had watched at all, he’d picked apart her dishes and lamented that she was his daughter. It was a story she’d heard too many times before.

  “Chefs,” Ty said, and her head snapped to attention. “Today we have another Medium Heat challenge.”

  Instead of relief, her chest dropped. She’d been ready for the elimination challenge, and now she had an extra obstacle to beat.

  “As you can see,” Ty continued, “tonight, we’ll be camping out.”

  He paused for effect, which usually gave the contestants the opportunity to cheer or applaud. Today, they remained silent.

  “There is one dish that is synonymous with camping,” Ty said. “S’mores!”

  With this, Duffy grinned, and she and Jolene both managed to crack a smile.

  Ty pulled out a box of graham crackers, marshmallows, and candy bars from a bag he’d been given. “Your challenge is to make us the best s’more we’ve ever tasted. You have five minutes. Your time starts now!”

  Ashton dove for the marshmallows and pulled three out of the bag, before realizing they hadn’t been given sticks to cook them on. Frantically, she raced to the tree line and fell to her knees, searching for a stick.

  She found one more than two feet long and raced back to the fire. She had to make three s’mores, one for each judge. If she put all three marshmallows on one stick, they wouldn’t cook evenly. If she made them one at a time, the first two would be cold by the time the judges ate them.

  Making a snap decision, she broke her stick in thirds, and then used the bottom of her chef’s jacket to wipe off any dirt before she placed one marshmallow on each stick.

  Before holding them over the fire, she placed two squares of chocolate on three graham cracker halves. When there was a minute remaining, she held the sticks over the flame. When thirty seconds remained, the marshmallows hadn’t even browned yet. Panicked, she dropped the sticks closer to the flame.

  Oh, shit! One of the marshmallows caught fire, turning the white puff black. She blew on the flame until is fizzled out.

  “Ten seconds,” Ty called.

  With no time to remake the s’more, she quickly dropped the marshmallow on the chocolate piece and put a second graham cracker on top.

  “Time!”

  Utterly disgusted with herself, she stood on her mark, her burned, disgusting s’mores on the plate in her hands.

  Ty, Claude, and Andrea started with hers. They each took a bite of her s’more, before moving on to Duffy.

  After tasting all three, they conferred briefly and then lined up in front of the chefs.

  “Ashton,” Ty said. “Your marshmallows were a bit burned, and you didn’t leave enough time for the chocolate to melt.”

  Nothing she didn’t expect to hear.

  “Jolene, your attempt to create a healthier s’more by just flaking on the chocolate left it dry and tasteless.”

  Jolene nodded grimly.

  “Duffy, we all enjoyed the double layer of chocolate you used on your s’more. The marshmallows were also perfectly cooked. Congratulations, you’re the winner.”

  “Yes!” Duffy pumped his fists in the air.

  “As the winner of the challenge, you will have the exclusive use of the trailer tonight,” Andrea told him. “Including a queen-size bed and bathroom facilities. Ladies, I’m afraid you’ll be roughing it with the tents and nature’s outhouse.”

  Ashton turned to look at Jolene. “This sucks.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ty, looking so hot in his khaki pants and crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone and showcasing a tanned chest. “Really sucks.”

  “For lunch tomorrow, we’ll be inviting the campers in the surrounding areas to join us for lunch, as you cook a gourmet meal over the campfire,” Andrea told them.

  “I don’t remember passing a groce
ry store,” Duffy joked.

  Andrea smirked, sending waves of fear down Ashton’s spine. “You’re right,” she said. “There are no grocery stores within twenty miles of here. So, first thing in the morning, you will have to ‘shop’ in the surrounding RVs for anything you might need.”

  Ashton sucked in the warm air. They wanted a gourmet meal out of camping food? Holy crap. Well, at least when she was eliminated, she’d be able to skip the home visit. That was one silver lining in this whole mess.

  Sally yelled cut before addressing the group. “We’re going to do a few interviews today,” she told them. “Then you’ll have the rest of the evening off.” She turned to Ashton and Jolene. “Sorry, ladies, but you really do have to sleep in the tents.”

  “What about a bathroom?” Jolene asked, looking a bit green at the realization they’d actually be camping out.

  Sally pointed toward the line of trees. “Twenty yards that way, and don’t forget to dig a hole. Ashton, I’ll interview you first.”

  As Ashton followed Sally to where they’d set up an “interview” chair, Ty passed her, bumping her in the side. He reached a hand to steady her, apologizing, and she felt him slip something in her jacket pocket.

  As he moved away, she put her hand in the pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

  Fallen oak, one hundred yards west of camp. Midnight.

  “Where are you going?”

  Ashton stopped dead in her tracks as she heard Jolene behind her. Hoping a guilty look wasn’t plastered on her face, she whirled around. “Bathroom.”

  Jolene tilted her head sideways. “Don’t you mean hole in the ground? Seriously, though, you shouldn’t walk around by yourself. I’ll go with you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” Ashton answered quickly. “Really,” she added, when Jolene looked as if she was about to protest.

  “Okay,” Jolene agreed reluctantly. She thrust something in Ashton’s hand. “Take this, just in case.”

  Ashton looked at the whistle in her hand, the silver gleaming in the reflection of the full moon.

  “It’s a rape whistle,” Jolene explained. “A girl can never be too careful.”

  “No, she can’t,” Ashton murmured.

  Great. Now, not only was she walking around blindly in the dark, she was completely freaked out. Her ability to navigate was somewhere near her ability to fly. She’d watched the direction the sun had set—that was west, right? If she got lost, Ty was going to owe her the world’s best oral sex followed by the biggest orgasm.

  The rape whistle in hand, she took tentative steps toward what she hoped was west. Her heart thumped like a bass drum as the light from the campfire got dimmer and the trees got taller. The only sounds were the crickets and her brain screaming this was a bad idea.

  Just as fear got the best of her and she’d decided to run back to camp, whistling as loud as she could, she caught sight of Ty, lounging on the fallen oak.

  She raced over and flung herself into his arms as he stood.

  “Whoa,” he said, tightening his embrace. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m running through the freaking forest at night,” she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. “That’s what’s wrong.”

  He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “You weren’t scared, were you?”

  She backed out of his arms. “Of course not,” she scoffed, but she knew he could tell she was lying.

  “Next time,” he said, pulling her back in his arms, “win the challenge and we could have a nice, soft bed right now.”

  She wacked him on the shoulder. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

  “No, sorry. But your s’more was pretty awful.”

  “I’m leaving now.” She backed away.

  He grabbed her hand and yanked her to him. “I’m just kidding. You know I’m just kidding. Besides, this might be kind of fun.”

  “I’m not having sex with you out here,” she informed him. “Anyone could walk by.”

  “No one will,” he promised. He lowered his mouth to her ear and nibbled gently on the lobe. “All the RVs are setups. The ‘campers’ are really friends and family of the crew.”

  Ashton relaxed against him. “Thank God. So there will actually be more than junk food to choose from tomorrow?”

  She could feel Ty nod as he moved his lips to her collarbone. “Mmm-hmm. Mmm. We planted some good stuff. Don’t worry.”

  Her head fell back as his lips continued to move downward. “Can’t we go to your room? They hooked you up in a hotel, right?”

  “I wish,” he mumbled against her rapidly beating heart. “I’m sharing an RV with Claude.”

  She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled within her from escaping.

  Ashton hadn’t realized he’d unbuttoned her shirt until it slipped from her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered to put on a bra, a fact that he appreciated with a sharp hiss between his teeth. “Are you sure no one will see us?” It was hard to even care when his lips surrounded her nipple.

  “Promise.”

  Suddenly, he swept her off her feet and laid her gently on a flannel blanket. “You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” Ashton palmed the soft blanket beneath her.

  Leaning above her, Ty smiled, more sweetly than she’d ever seen. He put his palm against her cheek. “I’m sure I need you. And I think you need me.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, tears she couldn’t help. She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat, so she just nodded.

  That was all the invitation he needed.

  …

  It felt like an eternity since they’d been together, and Ty had to actually tell himself to slow down. His body begged to plunge inside her, foreplay be damned, but his brain—and heart—wanted to prolong this night for as long as possible.

  Forever.

  He’d fallen in love with her. He knew it as surely as he knew the grass was green and the sky was blue. She was smart and fierce and challenged him in a way no woman ever had.

  All the reasons they’d kept their relationship a secret hadn’t changed, and he didn’t know how either of them would escape with their reputations intact. But he knew what they had was worth the risk. He just needed to convince her.

  Later. Now, he needed to get her naked before he exploded.

  He’d already removed her shirt, and now he worked on her pants, sliding them, along with her silk black panties, down and off. The light from the full moon reflected off her perfect body, and he groaned in appreciation. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  Even in the dim light, he could see her blush. “Compared to who?”

  Now his groan was for another reason, as he shook his head. “You’re incomparable.”

  She laughed. “You Southerners sure can sling the crap.”

  “It’s the truth.” He kissed the tip of her nose, her chin, her collarbone, and then the tip of each breast.

  She gasped as he flicked at her hardened nipples and gripped his hair. “I almost believe you.”

  “Before the night is over, you will,” he promised.

  He set out to show her his love in a way he couldn’t voice. She wasn’t ready to hear the words yet; maybe she would never be. But he could show her.

  He lavished attention on her breasts, cupping, sucking, teasing. Then, he traced a line with his tongue down to her navel, swirling it around her belly button and watching with pleasure as her abdomen clenched and pulsated.

  The change into September hadn’t altered the balmy heat, even this late at night, and her skin began to glow with sweat. His palms slid on her slick, straining skin to cup her bottom. He lifted her, like a feast, and he a starving man.

  At the first touch of his lips to her center, she cried out, softly and sweetly. As he added more pressure, as his tongue flicked inside her, the cries turned throaty and frantic.

  “Ty,” Ashton cried in a strangled voice. Her hands were like vises on his head; he’d need superpowers to get free. She fell back against the blankets,
arching further into his mouth. “God, you feel so good. Don’t—ahhh—stop!”

  He had no intention of stopping, not with her writhing beneath him and crying out his name like a chant. Instead, he opened her wider, adding one finger, then two. He could feel her clenching around him as he stroked steadily. When he used his tongue to flick at her nub, she went wild, letting out her release in a deep, shaking cry.

  He sat back on his haunches as he watched and waited for her body to still. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open. As her chest heaved up and down in exhausted breaths, beads of sweat dripped down her body.

  She was a vision of beauty.

  And she was his.

  “Did I die?” she whispered, peeking open one eye.

  “Nope.” He chuckled but then corrected himself. “Maybe for a minute.”

  Her amazing blue eyes locked on him. “If that’s heaven, I’ll die any day.” She curled her index finger toward her. “Come here.”

  After quickly covering himself with a condom, Ty crawled over her, careful not to ease his weight on her completely. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and kissed him more deeply, with more emotion, than she ever had before.

  Her hands slid over his damp back, down to his buttocks. He loved the feel of her hands—scarred and rough, the way a chef’s hands were meant to be. They urged him on, urging him to plunge deep inside her.

  So he did.

  Her hips rose to meet him and they caught a rhythm together. His head dropped to her shoulder as he moved in her body. Her hands were still on his bottom, her fingernails digging half-moons on his skin. It was different this time: not frantic, not impatient, not sleepy. Just their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

  And when his orgasm rolled through him, he knew he would never feel as perfect, as content, as he did in that moment.

  That, he supposed, was the difference between making love and fucking.

  He collapsed to her side, swinging an arm and leg over her, his face buried against her frantically beating pulse.

  “Was it my”—Gasp—“imagination”—another gasp from Ashton—“or was that even better than usual?”

  He nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah, it was pretty damn good.” He could have told her why, but he knew she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. He didn’t want to freak her out, send her screaming as far away from him as possible.