The Winemaker's Dinner: Amuse Bouche (The Winemaker's Feast)

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The Winemaker's Dinner: Amuse Bouche (The Winemaker's Feast) Page 3

by Rusilko, Dr. Ivan


  The car sped off toward a night of exploration—mind, body, and soul.

  I gazed at her for a few moments and couldn’t stop myself from brushing aside a lock of her hair. I couldn’t stop touching her. “Are you okay” I asked as she lowered the window. The last thing I wanted to do was let this situation lose one degree of intensity.

  “Why, do I not look okay?” she asked nervously.

  There isn’t a sentence I could formulate right now to express my admiration for the sight of her. “You look absolutely stunning,” I managed. That would have to do. “But if I didn’t know better I’d say…” I touched her face softly. “You seem afraid.”

  Her cheeks turned three shades of pink as she shifted in the seat. Was it me? Was it too fast?

  “It’s just that it’s been a while since…”

  Not wanting her to finish that thought, I interrupted the only way I could think of. “Since you’ve felt this?” I traced the neckline of her dress, then cascaded my finger down her neck to where the fabric of her dress covered her breasts. “Or this?”

  Drifting toward her, I drew her bottom lip between my teeth as if inhaling a perfect cigar. She tasted of pineapple laced with merlot. Cresting her lips, my tongue explored her mouth greedily as her presence engulfed my every sense.

  I was so enthralled by the idea of her, my body forgot to breathe. I pulled back and cupped her cheeks as I rested my lips on her forehead. We both gasped for air.

  Finally, her hand found my thigh and inched closer and closer to my hardening cock. If she was trying to drive me insane, she was doing a good job of it.

  I didn’t want to, but I figured I at least owed the girl a warning. “If you so much as touch me, I’m a goner.”

  Her smile taunted me. Lunging forward, I stole another taste of her mouth before I laid her down across the black leather of the seat.

  A primal urge possessed me as I blanketed her with my weight, pressing my extremely hard intentions into her delicate body. Only the restriction of thin fabric separated me from feeling her from the inside. My sexual beast fed upon her receptive claws and coos. She tore at my jacket while I grinded harder into her thigh.

  Riiiippppp.

  “Oops.”

  Pausing for only a second to identify a tear in the stitching of my jacket, I turned my attention back to this work of art. My mind, drunk on alcohol, lust, anticipation, and the feeling of something right, needed just a taste of what she promised. I worked my fingers beneath the dress that had caught my attention only hours ago. She arched her back, inviting me in. The tips of my fingers tracked along a delicate piece of silk, which I found to be quite moist.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Rusilko,” came a voice over the speaker. “We’re here.”

  Fuck!

  Out of breath and laughing she panted, “Thank God.”

  I loved her laugh. It was the perfect melody.

  “Any more of that and I’d be a goner.”

  “Me too.” I smiled as I sat up.

  I wasted no time swinging the car door open. A fire had been sparked, and I’d be damned if I was going to let it dwindle. I took her hand, and we raced toward the entrance of the hotel, giggling like star-crossed idiots. What a sight: a woman in high heels trying to keep pace with a man wearing a torn jacket and sporting a fully erect dick.

  I could only imagine the thoughts of the front desk attendant as we whisked by. As for the concierge, his greeting must have been a situational diversion tactic, as it was obvious my new limp wasn’t due to any sporting injury. I didn’t care. I had the only girl in the world on my arm, and I was happy.

  As we slipped through the brass doors of the elevator, we fell against the wall. Again she tore at my clothing, exciting me tremendously. After about a minute of our grope session, I noticed the elevator wasn’t moving.

  As I clicked the button marked P, she teased, “We’re going to the parking garage? I thought you had more class than that, doctor.”

  Doctor!? How did… Oh, the limo driver. Clever girl.

  “P isn’t for parking, trust me,” I mumbled as our bodies smashed back together. Feeling much more forward than I was accustomed to, I brought my hands to her tits. They were perfect. I could feel her heart racing as I caressed and teased her nipples through the smooth fabric.

  I felt her hand unzip my fly and firmly grasp my cock, which nearly made me come on contact. The way the softness of her hand moved around me was fucking amazing.

  Ding. The elevator halted, as did her assault of my cock. I hurriedly zipped my pants. As we stepped out of the elevator, she snuck around behind me and placed her hands in my pocket.

  “I am exercising great restraint right now.” On the short trip to my room, I made sure to savor the unique connection we shared in this stupid little moment. I could already tell she was amazing.

  After the keycard disengaged the lock, I opened the door just a crack, and she snuck by and into the swanky room. I watched her explore the space with her eyes, as if she’d never been in such a place. She had such an innocence about her. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something that made my tannin-driven pallet rejoice. Two black, velvety bags sat atop the table with a note nestled between them. It was my favorite wine, Velvet Glove. This night couldn’t be any more perfect.

  I snapped up the card and quickly read it.

  Thanks for the help, mate.

  I know you like dropping the gloves, but keep these on.

  ~ Sparky

  What a rock star. Love that guy.

  “What’s that?” Jaden asked, drawing near.

  “It’s a thank you from tonight’s winery. Good business clients and much better friends.”

  With a smile I headed for the bedroom to drop off my wounded jacket. Repairs would be worth every penny. When I returned, “Today” by the Smashing Pumpkins filled in my ears. This 28-year-old hick from western Pennsylvania who grew up milking cows, bailing hay, and shoveling shit, now stood in one of the most expensive penthouses in all of Sarasota, wearing a ruined designer suit. I had not a thought or a care in the world except for a girl I’d known for less than an hour. Today was the greatest day, and no, I could not wait for tomorrow.

  I took her hand and led her to the balcony, not knowing what to do or what to expect. But I was ready for anything.

  The ocean air blew across the open terrace and greeted us as we stepped out onto spacious balcony. The breeze cooled my body, which was still on fire from the backseat tryst.

  “It’s stunning,” she said as she looked out on a sea twinkling in the distance. I agreed, though I focused on the way the light from the inside had cast a perfect glow on her back and her ass.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I asked as I closed the distance between my front and her back, pressing her against the railing.

  I turned her to face me, and we focused on what we truly wanted. Here we were, on a moonlit night, with our fires bright. She had me wild and turned around, inside out. The desires that had been building slowly all night now grew heavy, and I could tell she felt the same way. Our mouths met once again, tasting each other and painting the most passionate of pictures, our own little secret scene. Tonight was ours.

  Surveying every inch, my hands trailed down her sides to where her dress ended and her thighs began. With her body pinned back I broke from our kiss only to partake in tasting another part of her all-too-perfect anatomy.

  Beneath her dress, her nipple grew hard in my mouth as my tongue fondled it. I took it between my teeth and teased it with intense strokes. I felt her body pulsate in pleasure, as did mine.

  Suddenly she stopped me and staggered backwards across the balcony. She came to rest on the steel table where I’d sat, working feverishly, just hours ago.

  I continued to tease her silk-covered nipple with my mouth as I lifted her dress to exposing more of her thighs. Grasping my hand, she drew the tips of my fingers across her sleek contours, making clear that the dress wasn’t lying
about what lay beneath it. She guided my hand into a position of unmistakable intention, then released it allowing it to fall exactly where we both knew it should be. I slid my hand up her dress, and she rocked back over the table, opening all that she was, reassuring me that she wanted it. She needed it.

  My thumb dove under the elastic band of her panties as I traced their outline from her hip to just above the damp spot that indicated she was primed. As wine, anticipation, and admiration continued to course through me, I pushed the silky fabric aside and pressed gently into her, causing her breath to hitch. Nuzzling my head into her chest, I hastened my speed and pressure as I drove two fingers in and out of her, feeling her contract around me with each penetration. My dick grew harder and harder as her body quivered and she moaned.

  Abruptly she forced my hand out of her and reached for my zipper, this time with different intentions. Taking a knee before me she tore my pants down past my ass and left them rumpled at my feet. She grasped my cock with one hand and the back of my thigh with the other. She began to suck the tip of my dick as she worked shaft back and forth with her hand. Shimmering sexual energy bounded through me as she teased me with her mouth. My body wanted to climax immediately, but I demanded it hold out for what was to come.

  “Fuuuuuck” was all I could muster to define the moment. I needed her now. I wanted to feel her from the inside. I took her by the shoulders and laid her back across the tabletop as I stepped between her legs. The look of her on her back, her legs spread before me, still in that dress, was the most beautiful of mind fucks. Indulging in my fetish for short skirts, I ran my hands firmly up her calves, across her knees, and down to where her dress now barely covered the top of her thighs. Every inch closer to her was an inch closer to heaven.

  I reached for my pants, which were thankfully still close by, and retrieved a condom. I looked back at her and found her wanting and waiting for my touch. Taking a position of dominance, my dick brushed the entrance of her pussy. She dropped her head back, signaling that she was ready for me. I ran my fingers up both her thighs and wrapped my fingers around the waistband of her silky red thong, pulling it from her body. I could sense her anticipation was high, as was mine.

  I dove into her core with one powerful thrust. I felt her contract immediately around me as I savored the feeling of being inside her. Pulling back, I started to work myself in and out of her with advancing speed and pressure. Her cries of pleasure combined with the faint crashing of the ocean waves into a song of passion. The sight of her biting her lip and arching her back was liberating in a way and hot as fuck in another.

  Then, with her emerald eyes focused directly on mine, she pleaded, “Fuck me harder.”

  And I did. With nothing but a smile I took her order and injected myself into her. My dick cried and my muscles ached for a second of relaxation to recoup the energy it took to please her. But I continued fucking her relentlessly. “Please,” she beseeched me, and I knew there was only one thing she wanted.

  Rising to my toes, I pulled her into me over and over again. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I could feel her pussy clamp around my cock. I knew she was coming, but that couldn’t stop the sexual creature she had created the moment she stepped on to the dance floor.

  Lifting her leg over my shoulder, I angled my piercing motions upward. This was all I needed as my body began to descend into an impending orgasm. My hair stood on end, my crotch became warm, my mind grew fuzzy, and my dick throbbed. She reached for my tie and pulled me close, allowing for even deeper penetration. Holding her tight, I unleashed everything I had as she matched me thrust for thrust and grind for grind.

  After a few moments my body couldn’t take any more, and I tensed as I jumped into her with as much force as I could, sending me reeling over the edge of sexual bliss. My mind turned off completely as my cock contracted inside of her. Once. Twice. Three times. I fluttered against the back of her leg as I succumbed to the dissipating pleasure of such an intense orgasm. It was fucking monumental.

  Looking at her now, no longer strangers, I knew the feeling I’d had the moment I saw her was true. I kicked my feet free from my pants, swept her up into my arms (like all good leading men do in the movies), and carried inside to the bedroom. Her eyes remained on mine the entire time. She was mesmerizing.

  Without words I helped remove her dress, and she helped remove my tie and shirt. The sight of her was…it was fantastic cloaked in the soft glow of the bedroom. Every curve perfect, every crevice inviting. “No, don’t,” I begged her as she moved to cover herself. “You’re magnificent. I want to see you.”

  “I…”

  “You’re breathtaking,” I added as I quieted her with my lips.

  The satin of the bed was nothing compared to her warmth as our bodies meshed together in a tangle of skin on skin and legs and arms wrapped around each other.

  She ran her finger along my body as we shared a final kiss goodnight. My final taste until morning. As exhaustion and alcohol lullabye-ed us to sleep, I breathed in her scent once more. It was a scent I would not soon forget.

  Click.

  The sound of a closing door mimicked an alarm clock, which bombarded my unready mind.

  Ba-dump, ba-dump echoed through my ears, indicating a heart struggling to push blood through a body struggling to overcome a night filled with red, red wine and a red, red dress.

  “Ahhhh,” was all I could muster as my brain reminded me of my medical schooling. Alcohol dehydrates you. Always make sure to drink a lot water before you go to bed after drinking. Oops. I guess sex isn’t a hangover-prevention measure.

  Once my senses converged onto a state of somewhat normalcy, my sixth sense—the one that alerts you to the presence of someone near you—informed me that something wasn’t right.

  Something was missing. There was no delicate arm draped around my waist, the bed bowed under the weight of only one body, and the sweet smell of sex-tinged lavender, passion-coated vanilla, and orgasm-encrusted cinnamon had dissolved.

  Rolling to my side, I found emptiness. Complete and utter nothingness.

  Slightly confused I mentally reconfirmed that last night had taken place. Jaden was not some alluring figment of my drunken imagination. But as I looked to the side of the bed where the red dress should be, I found nothing.

  Nooo… She couldn’t have. Probably in the bathroom.

  Without any care for my nakedness or morning wood, I went to the main room and surveyed the area with groggy eyes as if it were the scene of a crime. Expensive furniture, art, and electronics sat motionless. The bathroom was empty.

  On the balcony I found the same, nothing. No signs of a night full of star-cloaked coitus except for a small red strap that peeked out from one of the potted plants near the edge of the railing. Still naked and semi hard, I reached down and retrieved a pair of silky red panties.

  Falling back into a chair, I sat as the morning sun warmed every inch of my skin. I shook my head. Cinderella left the good prince a shoe. All I had left from my night with Jaden Thorne was a red thong.

  Never before had I felt such…worthlessness. The garden, the music, the car, the elevator, the balcony, the tastes, and the smell—all memories of a night of uncertainty now.

  What should have been a morning of breakfast in bed and conversation now turned to questions unanswered. Was she married? Was she mad? Was she embarrassed? What? These questions only deepened my sorrow at waking up alone.

  I looked at the red thong dangling from my finger in the morning light. She was real, she was here, and she wasn’t going to get off that easy. This wasn’t a one-night stand. It didn’t feel like it.

  Jaden Thorne had better be prepared. Her destiny was going to come calling….

  About the Author

  Dr.Ivan Rusilko, DO, CSN, PT,is the Medical Director and Co-Founder at the new Club Essentia Wellness Retreat at Delano. Dr. Rusilko specializes in creating healthy lifestyles that support longevity and improved overall quality of life through medic
ally supervised and customized diagnostic and treatment programs, with an emphasis placed on personal patient attention and follow-up. A certified sports nutritionist, champion bodybuilder, international male fitness model, and former Mr. USA 2008 and 2010, Dr. Ivan graduated from the Lake Erie College of Osteopathic Medicine in 2010 and sits as the national media and public relations expert and spokesperson on diet, exercise and sports nutrition for the American Osteopathic Association (AOA).

  Dr. Ivan has been a feature health writer and lifestyle coach for numerous magazines and online publications including The Washington Times and Quarter Life Health.

  With his debut novel, The Winemaker’s Dinner: Appetizers, co-authored by Everly Drummond, Dr. Rusilko is excited to offer a male voice in a predominantly female authored genre. Always one with a story to tell, he hopes to continue writing, exploring new genres and projects.

  He is proud to bring two of his passions, his medical wellness and sexual health background and writing together in this unique project. He hopes that The Winemaker’s Feast Trilogy will help spark an enthusiasm and ignite liberation among women, inspiring them to celebrate their sensuality and focus on their sexual health in order to achieve a better quality of life.

  by Dr. Ivan Rusilko and Everly Drummond

  Chapter 1

  “Something”

  Acool breeze caressed Jaden’s body, and the scent of butterfly weed and columbine infused the late-summer air around her. Brilliant purple and orange hues colored the evening sky as she stepped onto the makeshift wooden dance floor that served as the centerpiece for this evening’s event at the Florida Wine Festival.

  Jaden wrapped her sheer, black shawl tightly around her shoulders and over the open back of her slim, red cocktail dress. She surveyed the scene, looking for table number nine and trying her best not to seem lost.

 

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