5
EMILY
All the pleasure Wyatt had brought me in bed less than an hour earlier was gone. He was a master at working my body, quickly learning and availing himself of every secret spot that made me hot for him. Made me scream for him. Made me come for him.
Yet that was forgotten as I stood in his kitchen staring at a behemoth oven and not knowing how to even bank the fire to heat it. Fortunately, Wyatt had stoked it, fed it fresh wood, so that it was hot and ready to use. I'd watched the brothel's cook tend to the mysterious giant and marveled at how she could produce such delicious fare, however I'd never once been taught how to use one. If Aunt Trina had truly groomed me to be a bride, she'd certainly forgotten an important feature of a wife of the West.
I didn't know how to cook.
Fr
