By Dakota
Trace
Usually a good meal is a
prerequisite for sex. Or so they
say. But ever since I saw 9 ½ Weeks at an age I won’t mention, I
couldn’t help but wanting to combine yummy food and sizzling sex. Then I ran
across a call for Decadent’s new Foodie Romance line and inspiration
struck!
But I didn’t want to do just a
simple recreation of the scene I watched in the movie. I wanted whatever food I picked to be a
sensual, if not downright steamy part of my story. I wanted it to be a form a foreplay, but I
didn’t want the food to be the traditional chocolate syrup or ice. (Not that those condiments can’t be sexy as
hell.)
So I came up with idea of using a
more complex dessert – something that would require a chef to create it. Which
makes sense since one of my heroes is a three-star chef). But it also had to be the kind of dessert that
could be used to tease…that’s when inspiration struck – BANANAS FOSTER!
For those who happen to love
food or be fans of Food Network, you realize this New Orleans dessert is a
magnificent display of not only culinary talent but also showmanship. Not only does it require some cooking skills
in the putting it together, but the presentation is absolutely beautiful if
it’s done right. (For those of you who
don’t know, this is a dessert that a chef caramelizes brown sugar, dark rum,
and bananas by lighting it on fire AT your table before serving it over ice
cream, waffles or crêpes.) It seemed
like the perfect dessert under the right circumstances. One couldn’t play with
this dessert in the way I dreamed immediately after it was served…but reheated?
Oh…yeah. And that’s what occurred when
my kinky chef, Isaiah decided to not only tie his lover, Sean to the dining
room table, but use him as a canvas for the left-over dessert.
So enjoy the snippet from His Just Desserts,
and leave a comment for me about what you think would be the sexiest food to
play with to enter the chance to win $10 Amazon Gift Card. (Make sure to put your email address in the
comment as well :D)
Excerpt:
“Never once have I considered you my kept man.
There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to take care of the man I love. I may be
a lot of things, but I never once acted like I was better than you, or like I
thought you were inferior to me. We were in love, and when I asked you come
with me to Iowa City, you said no. You could’ve graduated a year early, but
instead you wanted to stay in that Podunk town. I had to take advantage of the
scholarship to U of I, so I left.”
“You
could’ve stayed. It was only a year.”
“Could have,
should have—it doesn’t matter now. It’s all water under the bridge. What I want
to do is to offer you a substantial amount of money to come to my home, prepare
a meal for myself and the partners.”
Sinking down
into the chair, he rubbed the back of his neck. There has to be a catch. Old lovers just don’t show up and offer vast
amounts of money, Waterson. “But?”
“But now, I
have a feeling no amount would be enough to get you to pretend to be my lover
for the night, and that’s what I need from you.”
A bitter
laugh passed his lips at the irony. “This is just grand. I never thought I’d
hear the mighty Sean Whitcomb offer to pay someone to pretend to be his lover. You’re
a lover extraordinaire who could have a man any day of the week. Isn’t that
what you told me before you left?” Unresolved resentment peppered his voice as
his anger boiled over. He wanted to do more than punch Sean. He wanted to hurt
him right where his heart lived. “So why don’t you go find one of them to do
it? Better yet, see if you can’t call one of the modeling agencies and have
them send over some hot guy to play the role, because the only thing that would
convince me to agree is if I got to top you for a whole weekend. And it would
be no-holds-barred sex. You’d be my bitch, for once—and I’d make sure you screamed
with pleasure.”
“Is that
what it would take, Isaiah?”
The soft tone
should’ve warned him, but anger made him rash. “Yeah, it’s the only damned way…but
we both know you’ll never agree to it. You never bottom, you never give up
control, so this discussion is over—”
“No it’s not over. I agree to your terms,” Sean
said. “One meal, a couple hours of pretend, and you get me for the whole
weekend. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your pound of flesh. I’ll call tomorrow with the
details.”
A click in
his ear told him Sean had hung up.
