I can cook

"Where are you going?" he asked sleepily when he saw her getting up and reached for her scattered shirt.

"I need to put the groceries into the kitchen," she said, well, more like grumbled. He refused to listen and they spent hours making love. Now, she was worried if she followed her tiredness, all those fresh ingredients went bad.

"But I still need you," he mumbled.

"I am still here. Be good." With that, she walked to the living room hurriedly, even only in her shirt. She did not bother wearing her pants. It was wasting her time trying to locate where he threw it away during the heated moments.

And boy, how passionate he was during those hours. If she did not exercise regularly, she would be left breathless and weak.

Her cheeks were still red from their session. She quickened her step to the kitchen. Right now she should be worried about her meats. Were they already ruined beyond saving?