Spicy Book Excerpts Novels & Stories

Grace sneered, still with a sardonic look and her guard not yet down. "Justin always gives me the best he can." Celine plunged the spoon full of the delicious spaghetti. Chewing voraciously as if she was starving. She did not care if there was a lot of creamy sauce splattered around her mouth from the spaghetti. What she wanted to show was innocence and helplessness if Celine was not hidden immediately.

I hadn't even realized how much I'd come to associate that scent with safety and warmth. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours before my gaze drifted to the book on the side table that Hasmik left me. I'd finally decided to crack it open out of sheer desperation for distraction. well.... the spicy cover had been pretty much a giveaway away but I didn't realize that the storyline could be so gripping. I was hooked. The enemies-to-lovers trope was more than just spicy, it was intense, chaotic, and real. I didn't expect to be so drawn into their world, their fights, and resistance, and the way they pushed each other only to fall even harder.

Whenever she laughed, her eyes would crinkle and sparkle. Seeing her smile would remind me of who I used to be. "Celia, want to grab lunch together? There's a restaurant downstairs that sells amazing spicy chili con carne. My treat!" Vanessa chirped, sidling closer to me. She was like a little ball of sunshine with her warmth and enthusiasm. I smiled and nodded. The food at the restaurant was wonderfully authentic. The spicy chili con carne was so spicy that my eyes watered, but it somehow felt unbelievably liberating. I didn't really eat much spicy food before because Chayce couldn't handle it. So whenever I cooked, I never really used much chili or peppers.

We started with small talk; work, weather, some show she was binge-watching, and sometimes while we were talking we'll hold eye contact for long, and when we've felt we'd held eye contact for long, we'll both flit our eyes away, a smirk on our faces. I loved watching her talk, and not just to listen, but just to watch her pretty lips move. Every time our hands brushed while reaching for the sugar or the napkins, a spark shot up my arm. After taking the last spoon of the well cooked mashed potatoes and downing it with my favorite coffee, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. “This…was soooo good.” She handed me a napkin to clean my mouth and electricity skittered down my spine as our tips

I guess now I’ll be able to say I went without food for 3 days as well. I pulled one of the books off the shelf, rolling my eyes at the title, “Cooking for the beginner.” I chuckled, “unless you have water dishes in you, you’ll be of no use to me.” I flipped to the first page and began reading. The book was about different herbs and spices that could be used to create soups. Bringing the book over to the desk, I opened the cabinet and began sniffing the contents to identify each one. I wrote them all down on a piece of paper numbered the way I placed them back into the cabinet. I bit of pride bloomed in my chest and Scarlett chuckled, “that was all me, don’t be so proud of yourself.”

Perfect. As I flipped through the chapters, the story heated up fast. The protagonist, a shy librarian much like me, was cornered in the stacks by a dominant stranger. His hands roamed her body without mercy, fingers teasing her nipples until they ached, then dipping lower to claim her wetness. I shifted on the couch, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs. God, why did these books always get me so worked up? My thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking friction.

Amayra raised her fist up and started concocting her cooking again. 30 minutes have passed, the second spaghetti has been successfully made. Amayra inhaled the scent and at that moment she choked when the smell of chili peppers was so strong in her nose. Actually, this is just trying to make spaghetti with a spicy taste. And sure enough, when Amayra tried it, the girl coughed heavily because it was too spicy and even felt like her lips were burning. Oh the danger if Inder eats it, her husband can get a stomachache and go in and out of the bathroom.

I looked at Wyatt, who was appraising me with narrowed eyes. “What? She forgets I can smell her all over the books and I know what ones are naughty, because well ya know,” I leaned over and tossed him a book from the pile. I had started reading the backs of things so I purposely incorporated a little spice in her life. He looked at the title, then skimmed the back of the book, it was some mafia romance. His brows raised, I shrugged.

Betty filled my coffee cup. I wiped a crusty cluster of sediment from the corner of my eyes and mumbled, "Thank you." She gave me a sad smile and shuffled back into the stacks. I groaned, sipping coffee the consistency of motor oil. Time to get back to work. I sure as hell wasn't going to leave it alone. Not when I was so close to the answers I wanted. Fire brewed in my belly. I picked up the book in front of me. A demonology book. The history of incubi.

I smiled faintly. Oops. I tapped my pen lightly against my notebook, pretending to read the lines in front of me. But my mind? Still wandering. Imagining him standing closer. Imagining what would happen if that calm expression cracked even a little as my cunt kept dripping. “Gosh, how can a man be so hot and yet stubborn… just take me already, professor.” “Try focusing on the actual text,” Jeff said again. “Right,” I murmured. I flipped the page of my notebook, leaning down to grab my textbook from the door beside my chair.