WrappedAroundYourFinger (2 page)
Read WrappedAroundYourFinger Online
Authors: Fallon Blake
Indigo Hartley was not a blank canvas. The moment he’d seen
her, she became the quintessential complement to the blowfish he would be
serving. This delicious little siren was every bit as exotic as the food she
would display. She had coal black hair accented with dark blue streaks. They
weren’t glaring, but just enough to pick up the intense and unusual violet of
her eyes. Detailed tattoos in both black and gray and brilliant color decorated
her arms. She was sexy in a way that made him a little crazy, but he couldn’t
think about that right now. He needed to focus on the arrangement he would
create or his apron wouldn’t just be keeping his pants clean. It would also be
hiding a hard-on.
He picked up the first of several chrysanthemums. “In Japan,
fugu
is traditionally sliced paper thin and plated in a chrysanthemum
pattern before it’s served. It’s the imperial emblem there, but in Europe,
where it’s used for funerals, it’s known as the death flower. Apropos for a
delicacy that could potentially kill you, don’t you think?”
Her expressive eyes widened a bit.
“Not to worry though.” He winked at her. “I trained for
years and had to go through some very extensive testing before they would give
me my license.”
“Wow, school in Japan. I bet that was an experience.”
“After studying at the California Culinary Academy, yes.” He
placed the first flower at the hollow of her throat. For a brief second he
wondered what that slender column would look like with a collar around it. He
needed to employ some force to get his thoughts under control or it would be
damn near impossible to concentrate on the task at hand.
Continuing to add chrysanthemums, he placed the largest blue
one at the apex of her thighs and she flinched with a small gasp.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding frustrated. “I’ll try to
stay still.”
The submissive downcast of her eyes combined with the
self-deprecating tone in her voice woke something in him that had been dormant
for a while. It was the same something that had stirred when she’d called him
Sir earlier. His need to dominate. He could just imagine what this beauty would
be like trembling under his control. After that little display—something she
probably hadn’t even been aware of—he knew he had to have her.
The world of dominance and submission had always appealed to
him. He couldn’t remember when it had started or why. He’d embraced it long
ago, exploring the scene in Japan and here in Miami. He’d never played with a
sub he’d wanted to keep, and never anything outside a scene or play party. None
had ever appealed to him beyond that. Of course the demands of his job didn’t
help matters. Working his ass off had done wonders for his career. For his love
life…not so much.
He placed an oyster shell over each of her pale nipples,
admiring the full curve of her breasts. She had a natural hourglass figure. He
loved that she wasn’t starvation thin with a pair of silicone tits. Her curvy,
feminine body was exactly the type that made him want to do very bad things. He
was not a sadist, but he did take pleasure in more subtle forms of torment.
Something told him that this woman would respond in ways that would have him
craving more and more.
He stood back and admired his work. It was even better than
he’d imagined. A modern pinup girl lavished with white and blue flowers. “It’s
not every day I have such a lovely model for my food presentation,” he said,
smiling at her.
Her pale skin blushed a deep rose and she gave an
exasperated sigh. “If she would only stop blushing,” she muttered.
He leaned down to tuck one last blue chrysanthemum behind
her ear. “That small display of vulnerability is one of the things that make
her so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m going to clean and prepare the
fugu
in a moment. Just relax until then. You’ll do fine,” he assured her before he
pushed the empty cart back into the kitchen.
This evening was supposed to have been the culminating
moment of his culinary career. But it felt hollow. Yes, it was a tremendous
achievement. No other chef had been honored with permission to import and
prepare live
fugu
. Regulations were extremely strict. It had been a long,
uphill battle. He’d been so young and ambitious when he’d set that goal. Not to
mention narcissistic. Now that he’d reached it, he realized how little it
really meant to him. It would no doubt skyrocket his career and he’d have the
kind of notoriety he’d once dreamed about. But it was getting damn lonely at
the top.
He pulled the
ponzu
sauce he’d made earlier from the
reach-in cooler. He took a quick taste to make sure it was still up to his
standard after chilling. It was not quite right and needed a bit more flavor.
Kind
of like your life.
Chapter Two
I’ve reduced myself to a human plate.
She should feel
some sort of moral feministic outrage over the entire thing. She just couldn’t
find where she’d buried it. It must be somewhere under the huge throbbing
amount of sexual tension. Good God, Chef Faust had nearly driven her insane.
Here she had a job to do and all she could think was
don’t stop touching me
.
Each time he placed a flower, the sensitivity of her skin increased. It was
just a brush here and there, a contrast of strong fingers and delicate petals,
but so very erotic. When he finished, her pussy was wet and her entire body
ached for more.
If she had guessed that this would turn her on so much,
she’d have skipped this assignment. Now she had to lie here for an hour and a
half before she could even think about relief. It was a damn good thing she had
fresh batteries at home. Her vibrator would get a serious work out later.
Chef Faust returned and went straight to work at the sushi
station. She could hear the sounds of the knife against the cutting board. It
wasn’t every day she had the chance to witness a chef of Banner Faust’s caliber
preparing food and she couldn’t see a damn thing. She swept her culinary
curiosity aside and closed her eyes, trying to still her mind. Working herself
into a frustrated and tense state wouldn’t help her. She needed to loosen up.
She took a few slow, deep breaths and felt the muscles in her body ease a bit.
Her senses began to sharpen as she relaxed.
The hum of the crowd became a strange comfort as she
listened to bits and pieces of conversations. A man with a smooth tenor drove
home the finer points of his legal case with two others. The raspy,
smoke-roughened voice of an older women flirted with someone who must have been
one of the wait staff. Dishes clanked together and a cork popped as a bottle
was opened.
“How are we doing, Indigo?” Chef Faust inquired. His words
reverberated through her like a low rumble of thunder. It was a completely
harmless question, but he had the kind of voice that had been made for talking
dirty.
She could feel the dampness between her thighs and silently
thanked the powers that be for the large blue flower covering her nether
region. This was ridiculous. It was obscene that she was this aroused. He’d
barely touched her and they were in a room full of people.
Funny, her body didn’t seem to care about any of that.
She didn’t trust her voice to keep her heightened sexual
state a secret so when she opened her eyes, she merely smiled and nodded.
When he leaned over to place the first green banana leaf
covered in a beautiful arrangement of
fugu,
his scent invaded her nose.
She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of soap and the barest hint of spices
he’d been using to cook with.
His brow raised in question.
Damn. He’d just caught her sniffing him. “I…um…the
fugu
…it
doesn’t have much of a smell.”
Quick thinking there, Indie.
“Very observant of you.
Fugu
is rather delicate in
aroma and flavor,” he offered, but the amused grin he gave her told her he knew
exactly what she’d just done.
After he finished placing the last of the banana leaves
across her stomach, he stood back and assessed his work.
“Does it meet with your approval?” she asked him in a small
voice.
His gaze captured hers and her eyes widened. The amount of
heat visible in his eyes took her by complete surprise. He
wanted
her.
“Oh yes,” he answered, his gaze still locked on hers. “I’d
like you to do something for me.”
“Sir?” She could think of a million things at that moment
and not one of them had anything to do with modeling sashimi.
“I’d like you to be my submissive for the next three days. I
want to know you inside and out, make you come in more ways than you can count,
and own every inch of that beautiful body of yours. You don’t have to answer me
now. Just think about it and let me know at the end of your shift.”
Forcefully she exhaled, releasing the breath she’d held as
she watched him walk away. Holy shit. Had he really just said that? How in the
hell could he drop a bomb like that and expect her to just lie there?
Submissive. She turned the word over in her mind. He wanted
her to be
his
submissive for three days. She knew about BDSM. A few of
the friends she had at the agency were involved in the lifestyle. They’d tried
to get her to go to play parties, even invited her to one of the local
dungeons. But she had absolutely no desire to troll the clubs in search of a
Dom. Secretly she got off on the idea of being controlled and dominated, but
never had the guts to explore it in reality. Instead, she filed it away as
fantasy and kept her cravings well fed with every erotic BDSM book she could
get her hands on.
Banner Faust wanted to make her kinky fantasies a reality,
not to mention give her more orgasms than she could count. Was there a downside
to this? She barely knew him so there was a possibility she could find herself
tied down and at the mercy of some psycho. She didn’t think that was the case,
but risk was all part of the appeal, wasn’t it?
She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed
the first couple approach her table.
“
Fugu
, do we dare?” the man taunted.
“She’s so very still. You don’t suppose she ate the
fugu
and
she’s paralyzed do you?” the woman murmured in a teasing tone.
Indie sneaked a look at the first diners. Oh God.
“Indigo Hartley,” Matt said with a smirk.
Why me?
Of course. Since this event held an element of danger her
dickhead, adrenaline junky ex-boyfriend Matt would be a guest. She’d fallen for
him a few years ago. She had a serious weak spot for guys with tattoos and
piercings in interesting places. It had been fun for a while, but that wore
thin when she realized how selfish and manipulative he was beneath the gorgeous
exterior. When she’d caught him cheating, he’d actually convinced her it
wouldn’t happen again. But it had, and more than once. Her luck with men just
plain sucked.
“You’re looking…healthy.” He plucked the first paper-thin
morsels of fish from her abdomen.
And Matt just couldn’t resist making a veiled insult about
her weight. The fucker. He used to tell her that she could have a
real
modeling career—if she’d just lose twenty pounds. He’d always been such a
supportive guy. Even still, it bothered her to see him. Sort of the way a
really nasty scar would itch and throb from time to time although it had
completely healed. She knew it wasn’t because she missed him. Not really. It
was more the idea of him she missed.
“Good evening, Matthew.” Indie gave him her best plastic
smile.
“Getting a little bolder with your modeling assignments I
see. Maybe you’ve warmed up a little since the last time we got together. You
know, Amber here is into threesomes,” Matt said.
Good to see that he was still a Class A asshole. “Um,
tempting, but no thanks.”
“You’ll come back,” Matt whispered as he ran the edge of a
chopstick along the curve of Indie’s breast. “You always do.”
Indie fought to keep her face blank and stared at the
ceiling. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind. She really did, but this
was a job and making a scene while working a high-profile event wouldn’t be a
good move on her part. Avoidance had always been her best tactic whenever Matt
had wanted to ooze his way back into her life, but it was damn hard to do that
when she was confined to a table.
Like magic, Banner suddenly appeared at her side. His mouth
was set in a grim line and he looked far from happy. He folded his arms over
his chest as he glowered at Matt. “Chopsticks can be a bit tricky can’t they?”
Matt looked confused. “What?”
“I figured you must be having trouble using your chopsticks,
right? Because I just can’t imagine you would be stupid enough to harass my
model.”
Indie pursed her lips to hide her smile and kept silent. Her
heart skipped a beat over the fact he’d been watching closely enough to have
noticed Matt and his wandering chopstick. That Banner would address the
situation in such a direct manner told her a lot about his character. She was
just the hired help and Matt was a paying customer. It was rare to find someone
in this business who would risk offending an influential patron for the sake of
a temporary employee. Obviously there was much more to Banner Faust than flash
and fame.
The slick smile that spread across Matt’s face made Indie
want to vomit.
“Oh Indie and I know each other rather well, wouldn’t you
say, lover?” Matt shot her a look of warning.
Banner glanced at her and mouthed
your call
. She
could have kissed him.
“Actually, no, I’d say you don’t know me at all, Matt. And
if you touch me with that chopstick again, I’m going to shove it up your ass.
Sideways
.”
Indie kept her voice saccharine sweet.
Amber blanched. Matt, on the other hand, looked as if he’d
just swallowed a mouthful of sour milk. “As crass as always.”
