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Book: Sizzling in Singapore (A Carnal Cuisine Novel) by K.C. Falls, Torri D. Cooke
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Authors: K.C. Falls, Torri D. Cooke
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floor.
***
Nick looked at the lump at his feet. It didn't immediately register that this was a person, much less that it was Mae. The unexpected confuses. He couldn't reconcile the bone and meat that flew past him when he finally got the stubborn key to open the lock.
Finally, he found his sense and saw with horror that it was she. Her lips were blue, her hair swirled around her head in an angry, confused way. He picked her up—light as a feather—and realized she was soaking wet and nearly frozen to death. He recalled some bizarre Nazi experiment that proved that a naked body warms one other naked body better than even two or three could do and set about tearing the sodden jacket and undershirt from her. She wasn't shivering. A bad sign. She didn't seem to recognize him or know where she was. Another bad sign.
He tore his own shirt from his chest as if he was wearing paper. Gathering her close to him he began to murmur her name as he tried to press as much of his warm skin against her cold flesh. He rubbed her bare back with one hand as he manhandled her soaked chef's pants down her slim legs. He put her frigid hands into his armpits and breathed his night-breath into her hair.
"My God, my God. Mae can you hear me?" No response. The transition to the heat was not instantly effective. "HELP! HELP! Somebody help me, please!"
It was late. The kitchen was silent and well-insulated against the heat and to keep the dining areas quiet. No one heard him as he struggled with whether to leave her and get help or stay and warm her. He gathered her into a tight ball onto his lap. He willed his body heat to enter her cold, nearly lifeless frame.
How long did it take before she began to shake and shiver? He was overwhelmed with gratitude as finally he could begin to feel her body come to life. She shook violently and began to whimper.
"It's okay now, baby. I've got you." He felt her wriggle into the warm cocoon of his arms, his torso and legs as he tried to cover every inch of her skin with his. She moaned as sensation began to return to her hands and he tightened his biceps to keep her hands in his warm folds.
Every so often he would call again for help. Still no one came and he was loathe to leave her on the hard floor. He stroked her head and felt the hard lump on the back of her skull. He tucked her bare feet into his groin and felt her toes like icicles against his balls.
She began to weep and he wondered that a body so cold could produce tears so hot. "It's okay, Mae. You're safe. Safe now."
Finally she looked up at him. He didn't think she immediately recognized him, but he didn't care. Just be okay. Be okay. Please, please be okay. He began to rock her in his arms and to his utter chagrin felt his own tears coursing down his cheeks. You're beautiful. You're strong. I know you don't give a rat's ass about me, but I do about you. More than a rat's ass. More than I should. More than I can.
He heard footsteps behind him and didn't bother to turn around to see who it was. "Call an ambulance, now. Tell 'em hypothermia, possible concussion." The disembodied footsteps hurried away.
Nick continued to warm Mae with his body wrapping her in his flesh and covering her soaking, cold hair with his discarded t-shirt. Her lips were still a frightening shade of purple and she had yet to say a word. Most worrisome to Nick was the lack of focus in her eyes. They seemed to be staring at a point somewhere beyond him in the darkness of the kitchen.
"Mae, look at me. Focus on me. Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?" Nick was desperate to evoke some sort of conscious response from her.
Mae's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she struggled to form words. She was shivering so much that when she opened her mouth to answer her teeth just clacked together. Her eyes closed and her jaw clenched as she tried to calm her muscles. "I don't…don't know where I am."
Nick was surprised that the words coming out of her mouth
***
Nick looked at the lump at his feet. It didn't immediately register that this was a person, much less that it was Mae. The unexpected confuses. He couldn't reconcile the bone and meat that flew past him when he finally got the stubborn key to open the lock.
Finally, he found his sense and saw with horror that it was she. Her lips were blue, her hair swirled around her head in an angry, confused way. He picked her up—light as a feather—and realized she was soaking wet and nearly frozen to death. He recalled some bizarre Nazi experiment that proved that a naked body warms one other naked body better than even two or three could do and set about tearing the sodden jacket and undershirt from her. She wasn't shivering. A bad sign. She didn't seem to recognize him or know where she was. Another bad sign.
He tore his own shirt from his chest as if he was wearing paper. Gathering her close to him he began to murmur her name as he tried to press as much of his warm skin against her cold flesh. He rubbed her bare back with one hand as he manhandled her soaked chef's pants down her slim legs. He put her frigid hands into his armpits and breathed his night-breath into her hair.
"My God, my God. Mae can you hear me?" No response. The transition to the heat was not instantly effective. "HELP! HELP! Somebody help me, please!"
It was late. The kitchen was silent and well-insulated against the heat and to keep the dining areas quiet. No one heard him as he struggled with whether to leave her and get help or stay and warm her. He gathered her into a tight ball onto his lap. He willed his body heat to enter her cold, nearly lifeless frame.
How long did it take before she began to shake and shiver? He was overwhelmed with gratitude as finally he could begin to feel her body come to life. She shook violently and began to whimper.
"It's okay now, baby. I've got you." He felt her wriggle into the warm cocoon of his arms, his torso and legs as he tried to cover every inch of her skin with his. She moaned as sensation began to return to her hands and he tightened his biceps to keep her hands in his warm folds.
Every so often he would call again for help. Still no one came and he was loathe to leave her on the hard floor. He stroked her head and felt the hard lump on the back of her skull. He tucked her bare feet into his groin and felt her toes like icicles against his balls.
She began to weep and he wondered that a body so cold could produce tears so hot. "It's okay, Mae. You're safe. Safe now."
Finally she looked up at him. He didn't think she immediately recognized him, but he didn't care. Just be okay. Be okay. Please, please be okay. He began to rock her in his arms and to his utter chagrin felt his own tears coursing down his cheeks. You're beautiful. You're strong. I know you don't give a rat's ass about me, but I do about you. More than a rat's ass. More than I should. More than I can.
He heard footsteps behind him and didn't bother to turn around to see who it was. "Call an ambulance, now. Tell 'em hypothermia, possible concussion." The disembodied footsteps hurried away.
Nick continued to warm Mae with his body wrapping her in his flesh and covering her soaking, cold hair with his discarded t-shirt. Her lips were still a frightening shade of purple and she had yet to say a word. Most worrisome to Nick was the lack of focus in her eyes. They seemed to be staring at a point somewhere beyond him in the darkness of the kitchen.
"Mae, look at me. Focus on me. Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?" Nick was desperate to evoke some sort of conscious response from her.
Mae's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she struggled to form words. She was shivering so much that when she opened her mouth to answer her teeth just clacked together. Her eyes closed and her jaw clenched as she tried to calm her muscles. "I don't…don't know where I am."
Nick was surprised that the words coming out of her mouth
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