Famine's Feast: Club Apocalypse, Book 3 by Raisa Greywood

Famine's Feast: Club Apocalypse, Book 3 by Raisa Greywood

Author:Raisa Greywood [Greywood, Raisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Raisa Greywood LLC


Jake

He’d thought Olivia was hard to read, but he’d been wrong. All it took was learning her cues—a task made easier now that he wasn’t picking at her until she exploded.

Even better, he’d get to see her explode again, but in a much more entertaining way.

Her face didn’t reveal her emotions very well. She smiled and frowned, yet he wasn’t sure if those expressions were a good barometer for what she was feeling. She’d probably gotten therapy to help her interact with other people, but it wouldn’t help him understand her. Hell, he needed a translation guide for that, but he could ask the on-call counselor for a better way of communicating with her.

Maybe he was going about things the wrong way. He might not be able to trust her facial expressions, yet her body didn’t lie. The blush of her arousal was pink, but darker red when she was angry. Her hands stilled, and she cocked her head slightly to the right when she was happy. Even her walk changed.

He’d always hated how she hunched when she moved but understood it had been because of nerves and discomfort. Now, her hips relaxed and swayed, and her arms pumped naturally instead of being held tight to the sides of her body.

Damn… Her ass had the cutest little wiggle. Probably had something to do with the vibe in her pussy, just waiting to make her come.

He almost reached for his phone to get her little surprise party on the road but forced himself to leave it alone. He needed to get her into the kitchen before he started tormenting her.

“So, the snapper you wanted the other day?” he finally asked as they approached the staff entrance to the kitchen.

“Yes, it won’t be fresh for much longer. I’m glad to have a chance to use it before it goes bad.”

“Sounds delicious.” He held the door for her and followed her in. “You’re making that crema fresca sauce, right?”

“I don’t know.” She flashed him a quick smile, then retrieved her knives from the shelf above her workstation. “If you hadn’t discarded what I already made, it would have been perfectly rested by now. I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“Ouch! That’s just mean.”

“Maybe it will teach you not to throw away my food.”

As if. He’d commit murder for the woman’s leftovers as it was.

Without waiting for an answer, she unwrapped her knives, then went to the walk-ins. “You’re in luck. There’s one duck egg left.”

He followed, watching with interest as she picked through the produce and loaded her choices into a clean bus pan. “Just out of curiosity, what made you think of using a duck egg?”

“Mostly for the additional fat, but the flavor worked with the sauce too. They kind of remind me of umami, and…” Her fingers fluttered at her sides, then she appeared to shake herself.

“You okay?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“How does the toy feel? Still in there good and tight?”

“It’s distracting, but fine. I’m fine.” Her hands twitched again, and she pressed them against her thighs in an obvious attempt at self-comfort.



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