Spicy Book Excerpts Novels & Stories

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.

“Look what I have.” “Is this my book?” she giggled as she recognized the cover. “Where did you get this?” “Belkin was telling us how you’re an author. I got a copy. I am very excited to read it. No wonder you are so brave and heroic when you write such stories.” “You do know this is a spicy book.” “Spicy? Cookbook?” “No. Sexy. It’s got a lot of sex in it. The main character has two penises.” “Lucky man! Is the book explicit?” he made wide eyes. “Does he use both penises?”

I can loosen my aching grip on my phone—not enough to drop it, in case the picture disappears like the others—just enough that my fingers stop hurting. Everett pads over with a steaming mug of tea, a little bowl for the teabag, and the chips. I grab the chips before he’s even finished setting the tea on the table and cram a fistful into my mouth. I used to hate spicy food. Dana taught me how it could be a grounding tool sometimes. People don’t really taste in dreams. I don’t taste my hallucinations. My mouth prickles with heat, and I exhale through my nose. I’m not hallucinating everything. Everett drops onto the couch next to me, but a few respectful inches away. Heather sits on my other si

With a resigned scowl, he picked up the utensils and tried to mimic her technique, swishing a piece of meat in the bubbling broth. The moment he took a bite, his handsome face turned bright red. The searing heat of the spices hit him like a freight train, and he managed to choke out, What kind of hotpot is this? The spiciest one, she said casually, dipping another piece of tripe into the fiery broth. Theo's lips curled into a cold smile. You're really going out of your way to spite me. Bianca finally looked up, her face flushed not from embarrassment but from the heat of the food.

His relaxed attitude eased some of my tension. Maybe he was right. Maybe I really should stop letting these things affect me. Soon, the waiter arrived, and we began looking through the menu. Not long afterward, Serena's loud and annoyingly exaggerated laughter floated across the restaurant. I ignored it. Instead, I pointed at several dishes. "The spicy grilled fish here is excellent." Damian nodded. "And the chili garlic prawns are also good, coupled with the spicy vegetable stew." His eyebrow lifted as he stared at me. "You really like spicy food."

Desserts layered with cream and fruit and sugar, sweet enough to rot teeth. Long. Cruel. Excessive. Food meant to exhaust. Food meant to remind us who held power. Zoey and I cooked. The kitchen became an oven. Oil hissed and popped against the pans. Spices burned the back of my throat, pepper, cabbage, cinnamon, and heat. Sweat slid down my spine as flames licked the pots and smoke curled into the air. My palm throbbed, each heartbeat echoing through the wound. Zoey leaned close.

But with a little kid present, was it really okay to serve such spicy dishes? Leif’s cooking was genuinely good. Since spicy food can stimulate the appetite, she took several bites. Noticing that Leif and Gale barely touched their food, she paused and casually asked, “Mr. Vexley, do you also like spicy food?” She hadn’t paid attention to what Leif was eating, but since he cooked the dishes himself, she naturally assumed he liked spicy food too. Gale poked the plate with his spoon, then looked at Leif. Leif picked up a piece of boiled pork slices, calmly put it in his mouth, chewed without a change in expression, then swallowed. “Hmm, Miss Carrington, you like spicy too?”

I felt and heard how he is obviously in a hurry so even with so much confusion, I nod my head even if he could not see me before I answered him my “Okay.” I look around after the call then decided to continue reading the book that I was reading earlier. I smiled to myself, realizing how this is such a great read. “Another way to go~” I murmured as I slump back down on my chair. *** I clutch my toes while I am still on top of my chair after minutes of reading some pages of this book. When I already feel like reading anything and my head hurts already from bowing down to read those tiny fonts of this cream-colored paper, I lean backward on my chair before moving in circles while still bending

"I've always preferred the heat." As the meal winds down, the restaurant fills with the boisterous energy of Little Italy, but their table remains an island. Elias repeats the word 'piccante'—spicy—until Mia finally nods in approval. "You have a good ear," she says, her gaze lingering on the planes of his face. "I've been listening to you for months, Mia. I know the cadence of your voice better than my own." The confession is raw, unadorned. It hits her harder than the chili ever could.

Patricia hurriedly handed Hunter a skewer: "Quick, have a taste. You always said the chili here wasn't spicy enough. I ordered it extra hot today; see if this heat level does the trick? If it's not enough, we can ask the boss to add more spice." Spicy? A twitch played at the corner of Hunter's mouth as his hand trembled, taking the grilled skewer but he dared not take a bite. Seeing him not eating, Patricia asked in puzzlement, "Why aren't you eating? Hurry up, it won't taste good once it's cold." A bead of cold sweat slid down Hunter's forehead. Like a soldier facing his doom, he made a major resolution and bit into the skewer, immediately breaking out into a profuse sweat.