Work Text:
Stacy was in the kitchen chopping things. He couldn't see what, but she was making noise in the kitchen at 'far too early to be making dinner'. He poked his nose over her shoulder while she worked, trying to figure out what, exactly, she was putting together.
Her hands moved smoothly across the wooden cutting board, slicing and dicing vegetables, then scooping them into a pot on the stove. He frowned against her throat. "What are you doing?" he asked with a sneer.
"Chopping vegetables," she answered. She didn't stop working, even when answering him.
"Yeah, I see that. Why?"
Still not looking at him, she responded, "Because that's what you do for making stew."
Watching her cook always turned him on, but watching her chop vegetables, work those knives, nearly had him spinning her to the refrigerator and tearing her clothes off. He rolled his eyes at himself - he was sexually aroused by her use of kitchen knives? Even he thought that was pathetic.
"Greg," she asked, dragging carrots onto the board, "Are you okay?"
"Uh-huh," he grunted. "How much longer you gonna be doing this?" he asked her.
"Little while. Few more vegetables, then the stew beef. Why?"
He kissed her neck, then slid away. "Meet me in the bedroom when you're done."