Hungry Like The Wolf: A Paul and Rachel Novella

Chapter 11: Brother

Playlist:

Miguel - Sure Thing

2pac – I Get Around

David Cook – Fade into Me

Miguel – Adorn

Chapter 11 – Brother

"Lahote!! Step away from the cupcakes," I demanded, catching a very hungry Paul, hovering around my red velvet cupcakes as they cooled on wire racks, the morning sun casting his large silhouette my direction. I was working pretty hard in our small kitchen to get five dozen done for the afternoon's event. "Those haven't even been iced yet."

Raising his hands, he took two steps from the counter. "Damn it, Black. Why you gotta bake countless goodies in front of a hungry shape shifter without offering not even a one?"

Jacob sat in the living room with a bag of Chips Ahoy watching television. Without that bag I was sure he would be all over the cupcakes as well. "I mean it," I said in a clipped tone, pointing at Paul. "Step away."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "Don't you go point that rubber spatula at me, Black."

I scrunched my lips together to hide my smile, making a big effort not to laugh. "Away with you, Lahote!"

He stepped back again. "Fine," he sighed, leaning against the far counter with his arms folded.

I shook my head and picked up the ice cream scooper and began to fill the other cups with batter. "There, was that so hard?"

Suddenly, he was behind me, his arms wrapping around me, his hands slipping underneath my apron and cupping at my breasts, his mouth at my ear. "Maybe I'll just handle your muffins then," he growled softly.

I giggled, elbowing him away, as he groaned in protest. "Paul, stop. The sooner I get these into the oven and out, the faster we can leave."

The volume of the TV went up several notches, Jacob trying to drown us out, no doubt.

Paul's was back against me then, his hands on my hips, slipping forward. "How's about your cookie, then?"

I dropped the scooper and turned to him, grabbing a butter knife to point at him this time. "Lahote, if you don't behave yourself—"

He backed away again, hands in the air. "Fine, fine."

"You can lick the batter off the bowl and the beaters when I'm done if you'd like."

He was back to leaning against the counter, and folding his arms. "Thanks, Black. That sounds great."

"Great." I turned back to the batter.

"You know me, I just love to lick." The TV got infinitely louder at this point. Poor Jacob, I thought to myself. "One of my favorite hobbies."

"Stop it," I mouthed to him silently, pointing at Jake with my eyes and back at Paul. Shaking my head, I went back about my business, filling the cups, feeling Paul watch me.

I looked at him; I could almost see the wheels turning at his head as he regarded me.

I sighed, stopping again. "What now?"

Paul shook his head this time. "Nothing."

I let out an exhale. "What?"

He bit his lip, and I realized I probably was going to regret asking him. "I like that apron."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Paul," I muttered, my tone dismissive, sticking the cupcake pans into the oven.

"You should wear that next time... and nothing else."