Ginger Bread Mates

“Can I come out now?”

“Not yet,” Mooney called over his shoulder, grinning as he put the finishing touches to the bedroom.

“Baby, I’m getting cold!” Marissa called through the door.

“Put a robe on,” he called back, refusing to be baited into spoiling his surprise.

**********

Marissa leaned her back against the bathroom door and harrumphed loudly, trying to keep her excitement from bleeding into her voice. When Mooney had casually suggested she take a nice, leisurely bath after dinner, she knew she was in for more than a surprise. Her wickedly delightful mate was going to pull one of his “special deserts.” She really loved his special deserts—they were guaranteed to go right to her hips in all the right ways!

The very first time they spent the night together, his idea of desert had been to tie himself to the bed, wearing nothing but angle wings and strategically placed whipped cream while giving her devil’s horns, a tail and a pitch fork. He had called that one “The Devil’s Angel Food Beefcake.” Some of the other treats he’d surprised her with were “Tira-Wolf-Su” to finish off a fine Italian dinner, “Honey Moon Loukoumathes” after Greek gyros, and “Sopapilla Witch Sundaes” to finish off a Mexican-themed dinner. As she waited impatiently for her tricky wolf to finish his preparations, she tried to figure out what “dessert” best went with the thick, hearty beef stew he’d fed her.

“Ok, I’m ready for you,” Mooney’s voice drifted through the door. Marissa grinned, then immediately opened the door, ruining her effort to appear annoyed. He jaw dropped when she saw the delicious confection Mooney had turned their bedroom into.

“So, are we going to be Hansel and Gretel?” she purred as she sashayed around the room, running her hands over the various candy-themed decorations.

“Na, I’m not really in to the Brothers Grimm when it comes to story time,” Mooney replied, a sexy smirk on his entirely-too-handsome face. He was leaning on the wall next to a side table filled with baking decorations, watching her every move with obvious approval, judging by the way the apron he was wearing was beginning to rise. “I don’t like what they handle naughty witches.”

“And how would you handle a naughty witch,” she purred, walking toward him in her sexiest naughty strut.

“Like any wolf,” Mooney replied. “I’d garnish ‘er good then feast on her soft fleshy bits.”

“And what are you planning to fix me for dessert tonight, my lovely wolf?” Marissa sighed happly, loving the mental image of him feasting on her fleshy bits.

“I thought we might decorate cookies,” he said as he picked up a dish from the table next to him. Marissa shivered when he brushed the liquid—it looked like honey but tingled when it touched her skin—over her nipples and lips. Next he liberally dusted her honey-coated bits with cup-cake sprinkles. “I call this recipe “Ginger Bread Mates.”