Cosmo Red-Hot Reads Box Set: CakeFearlessNaked SushiEverything You Need to Know

by Lauren Dane

  The only guilt he felt was putting her in danger without the proper training.

  He’d soon fix that. He’d run her through the drill. Give her the opportunity to learn how to deal with any situation. Meanwhile, his team had Briggs in custody. And Pepper had Ms. Sims tied up like a prize pig ready for market.

  He grinned. Tied up.

  Yes, that was the idea.

  Steve let the rose petals drift through his fingers onto the bed covered with satin sheets as shiny as black cod. The cedar fragrance of the hinoki wood headboard blended with the floral essence, while the velvety softness of the petals reminded him of that delightful spot between her legs. That special place where he could let himself go—something he never did, even when fucking a woman. He didn’t dare. Always on the alert, always ready for trouble, Steve never dreamed anyone could make him let down his guard.

  Pepper did. She made him laugh. Something he hadn’t done in years.

  He held his breath in anticipation of the moment when he’d again pull her jeans down to her knees. Then slip his hand between her thighs and press one, then two fingers inside her. Stroke her clit, explore her. Then make her his.

  Christ.

  His mouth went dry. To quench his thirst, he grabbed the bottle of sake and tilted his head back, the cool drink sliding down his throat. Smooth. Rich. Its lingering sweetness left a pleasant, fruity taste in his mouth. Perfect. The rice wine was the nectar of the gods. And she was his goddess.

  What if she didn’t show?

  He wouldn’t believe that. Couldn’t.

  Tension filled him as he held the glass bottle in his hand, running his fingers up and down its slender neck. Its rounded bottom was curvy, like a woman’s. Like Pepper. But she was more than a wildly, tempting invitation to sex. She was special to him. No one in his life was like her. Sure, he’d had women. Sexy, beautiful women. But none could compare to Pepper O’Malley.

  The doorbell rang.

  It was five minutes before eight. Steve smiled.

  For tonight, he had one mission.

  Make her cry out with pleasure.

  Over and over again.

  * * *

  The rope pressed into me and hit my clit spot on.

  I clenched my muscles tight. God, that burned. But wonderfully so. I did it again, shocked by my own brashness. I was right about Steve acting like a man used to tying women up. Did I hit the mark. I didn’t pride myself on having insight into how men’s brains worked except when it came to computers, but I tapped into the intimate desires of this man bound by strong beliefs that bordered on kink.

  But oh, what kink.

  I was nude, lying on my back. Red rose petals scattered on my breasts, belly, and thighs, a thick white rug hugging my body like a sensuous cloud. I breathed in a fragrant mist delivered from a bubbling fountain scenting the air around me. Whatever fears I had when I stepped into his world were gone. I was bathed in muted backlighting and—

  Tied up.

  Naked sushi à la bondage.

  When I arrived, my FBI hottie had wasted no time ordering me to strip while he watched. When I asked him why, he told me a special agent should be prepared for physical inspection at any time.

  I blushed. His request had an intimacy about it that surprised me. Turned me on. As if he were seeing me naked for the first time.

  I nodded and obeyed.

  First my tee came off, then my bra and best jeans with the rhinestone buttons. When I stood nude in front of him, he said nothing. Instead, he pressed his palm against my pubic area, cupping then squeezing me. Not hard. Just enough to set off tiny tremors in me.

  His gesture took my breath away. I couldn’t move.

  Then his cool hands stroked my thighs, sending a chill through me before he moved upward and caressed my breasts. His fingertips lingered on my pert nipples before pinching them so hard I couldn’t help but cry out, the painful pleasure startling but pleasing.

  I was already wet when his hand dropped to my buttocks, kneading my soft flesh before moving to my thighs, parting them and slipping his finger inside me. I began to move against him, but he insisted I wasn’t ready yet and removed his finger without giving me the satisfaction of having him stroke my clit.

  Wanting, needing, crazed with desire, I fell into his arms without resisting when he picked me up and carried me into a spa with a sunken tub. I held him tight around the neck. He liked that and smiled at me. Then he bathed me with unscented soap, taking a soft white cloth and rubbing me from head to toe. Warm water seeped into my pores when he drizzled the soapy suds down the crack of my butt and the backs of my legs.

  “You’re beautiful, Pepper,” he said, pulling the cloth between my legs and hitting the nerve-rich area around my perineum. I arched my back, a pleasurable moan escaping from my lips. “And so sexy.”

  “Nobody ever called me sexy,” I said, spreading my legs and shuddering with pleasure when he ran the rough texture of the cloth over my vaginal lips and then parted them with his fingers. He rubbed the cloth back and forth across my clit, making it burn. “Mmm...I like that.”

  “You’ll like this more.” He moved up my belly, then my rib cage, washing my breasts, swirling the cotton ringlets of the cloth around them until they glowed pink. I pushed out my chest. He didn’t disappoint me. He pulled on my nipples, making them pointy and erect, then let them go. “Your nipples are perfect for—”

  “Nibbling on?” I asked, hoping, waiting.

  “Soaping up.” He reached under my breasts and cupped them in his strong hands, my nipples pointing straight ahead. Begging for him to put his mouth on the hard buds, one then the other, sucking. I couldn’t stop looking at him, watching his hands holding my breasts, massaging my flesh. I could see behind his dark eyes how aware he was of my response to him. And that aroused him.

  Teasing, he lathered up his hands and then capped my erect nipples with translucent soapsuds, pinching them between his thumbs and forefingers long and hard until I could stand it no more. Still, he didn’t suck on them. He called it the “Spartan touch.” Indulging in foreplay but denying me pleasure until the right moment. Expending his energy on making me want more but giving me only enough to keep me in a limbo of anticipation.

  The game took on new meaning when he cooled me down with a tepid shower so my body temperature was ready for—

  “Sushi,” he said, explaining this was one meal I’d never forget.

  Then he began tying me up.

  Stroking me with the long, white rope. Slapping it on my butt with a pleasant sting and then sliding it down between my thighs in a slow crawl before bringing it upward and twisting it around my breasts. Pulling on my nipples until they peaked. Long, lustful minutes passed as my mind worked overtime, wondering when, when he would speak.

  Not a word.

  I lay stretched out on the white rug, waiting. Watching as he secured my wrists together and then executed intricate knots around my waist, breasts and thighs. The taut pressure made me aware of my body and heightened my senses. Every time I tugged on the rope, it squeezed my breasts, making me moan.

  I’d never felt so vulnerable, lying here, my bod bound with soft rope. Yet I also sensed an aura of security, as if Steve was protecting me by tying me up. I didn’t understand why I felt this way and that bugged me. But the delicious sensations filling me up pushed any doubt from my mind.

  “Not too tight?” he asked, pulling on the linen rope encircling my waist, under my breasts and around my thighs.

  “No,” I mumbled, dreamlike. I relished the subtle strength of his power when he tugged on the end of the rope, pulling me toward him but not to him.

  A show of dominance, reminding me he controlled my movements.

  I wiggled, or tried to, but nothing moved except my breasts. His skillful rope-tying around my or
bs forced my breasts to stand up and not flatten out, my nipples waving at attention, hard and taut. Glancing down, the sight of my body squirming but powerless added to my growing feeling of arousal.

  “I can’t move,” I said, grunting and straining at the ropes.

  “Good.”

  “Does that turn you on?”

  A sly smile eased the tension on his face. “That’s not the objective.”

  “Then what is?”

  “You’ll find out.” Steve brushed my cheek with his lips, but nothing more, keeping me wanting. It was most definitely a nipple hardener.

  A cool, new sensation wiggled through me when Steve arranged the sushi on my body. No food porn, he said; no oysters that looked like vaginas or raw salmon with the taste and texture of my nether lips.

  Instead, on my belly he arranged buttery yellowfin that would dissolve on his tongue. Crimson tuna crowning my nipples, and purple-hued octopus tendrils swirling around my breasts.

  According to Steve, raw freshness was key to good sushi.

  Better yet, he said, was a live woman. How experiencing the fish eaten off the bare skin of a female heightened the taste of the food.

  Next, it was show-and-tell time.

  He pinched my nipples and then smeared spicy wasabi on my skin, his tongue gliding over my belly, licking it off. Next, he plucked tuna off my hard bud with his teeth, biting it as he did so.

  I arched my back, gasping with delight, wanting more, flowing with his rhythm. Him eating, sucking, licking, biting. Me moaning and writhing in pleasure. I felt no fear, no danger in being tied up and defenseless, something I’d never experienced with anyone.

  Little did I know what was coming next.

  When I thought I couldn’t stand the deep burning in me another second, Steve unloosened the knots around my thighs and spread my legs.

  “Ever heard of wakame sake?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t see it on the menu at The Mermaid’s Tale.”

  “You could call it a Japanese body shot. It means drinking sake.” He pointed to my pubic area, all naked and pink and wanting, not to mention wet. “From here.”

  My eyes widened. Was he kidding? I hoped not. I was filled with rising feelings of desire, approaching something new and, like I said, kinky. I was finding out this man knew no limits.

  He burned like incense. Slow and intoxicating. Knew no fatigue.

  Oh, yeah.

  “I hope you’re thirsty,” I said, daring to push up my hips and expose my lower swollen lips for his approval. I swore I could see them glistening with my juices.

  He smiled. “Very thirsty.”

  Pouring sake into a small cup and setting it aside, Steve told me it was vital to stimulate me first to create the flow of my juices and mix it with the flavors of the sake.

  Stimulate me? How?

  I had no idea how aphrodisiac a pair of lips could be.

  To demonstrate his prowess in the traditional sake art, he kissed the soft spot between my legs. Lightly at first, lapping up the moisture beading between my lower lips. Then, more demanding, opening me up to his insistent probing and making me twitch uncontrollably against his mouth.

  Not letting up, he pushed inside me with his tongue, flicking and rolling it over my hard clit. Exploring me, tasting me, teasing me without mercy, his tongue thrusting in and out. Deeper and deeper.

  I thrashed about wildly, pleading with him not to stop. Reveling in the rising, burning ache weaving a serpentine dance of pleasure in my lower body, making my need for his cock more intense—

  He stopped.

  Was he mad?

  I struggled against the ropes binding me, frustrated. I wanted to grab his dick, sit on it, let it carry me to the brink of orgasm, ride it long and hard, but I couldn’t move. Exasperated, I let my head fall back and the room spun around me. Everything seemed to blur. I heard him breathe hard and then let out a low groan.

  I forced myself to focus my eyes on him. I watched in unbearable anticipation as he trailed a finger over his lips and inhaled my aroma, and then he leaned down and licked my inner thighs, his tongue traveling over my bare skin.

  He was avoiding my sweet spot, damn him.

  Why, why?

  Knowing I was watching him, he lay on his stomach, opting for a better view while he blew his hot, moist breath on my mound. Coaxing my lazy pubic hairs to flutter like daisy petals bowing to an insistent breeze as he brushed up the curly hair with his fingers.

  Next, he put a black silk pillow under my head and shoulders, putting my body at a slight angle, and then he poured light and fragrant sake into my navel until it overflowed. Though the sake was room temperature, I let go with a slight shiver. The sake tickled me as the liquor flowed from my navel downward and through my pubic hair, making it sway to and fro like seaweed.

  Lubricating me.

  I wiggled my hips, waiting for his tongue to slither inside me and soothe my aching clit.

  I didn’t have long to wait.

  Steve put his head between my legs and lapped up the sake. Filling his mouth with the tepid rice wine mixing with my juices. His tongue left a trail of fire up and down my inner thighs, then along my nether lips, while a myriad of blissful spasms ripped through me. Bending toward him, I couldn’t help but expel a long, low moan of sublime pleasure.

  He wasn’t finished.

  I heard the flick of a condom wrapper and then saw him slipping it on his erection.

  “I owe you one, remember?” he said, waiting for my reaction.

  “How could I forget?”

  What more could I say? The lovely fire in me hadn’t cooled, only intensified.

  I sparked and tingled as my approaching orgasm escalated, though I lay here tied up with delicious knots and rope inhibiting my every movement. A rolling ball of fire coming at me with all the force of a creature out of the darkness, invading yet electrifying. The tension of not being able to move made me reach for it even harder, forcing me to arouse my own strength to grab on to it.

  I realized then that was what Steve wanted to teach me. To become a special agent for the FBI required straining against the mental bonds that in the past had sabotaged my efforts. How I found excuses that kept me from going after my dream job because I was afraid of being rejected. How I blamed instead what I believed was the bum rap life threw at me. In reality, my own lack of self-confidence prevented me from achieving my goal.

  I arched with desire, my breathing heavy, expectant, my legs spread, my buttocks quivering. This was no fantasy video game we were playing, though I was embarrassed to admit I’d found them arousing in the past. Spreading the thighs of my buxom avatar wide and allowing an equally sexy male avatar to slide into her three-dimensional image.

  Not anymore.

  I didn’t hold back when Steve came in me, sensing this was a magic moment, that pulse of excitement I’d longed for but never experienced. We were breathing as one, wrapped up in raw emotion that exposed my soul as well as my body.

  Hot damn.

  This was one orgasm I owned.

  And so much better than any video game.

  Epilogue

  Pepper here.

  That is, Special Agent Pepper O’Malley.

  Smarter, with new insights into myself, some painful. My libido is satisfied and every inch of me is primed to be the best special agent I can be.

  No more running through hotel lobbies, waving an expired credit card in the air and yelling, “Stop, FBI!” I graduated from the academy, and I got my own gold badge and creds.

  And I got my guy, too.

  Steve said he has to marry me to keep me out of trouble.

  Me, in trouble?

  Only when he’s around...

  God, I love that man.<
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  * * * * *

  About the Author

  Jina Bacarr wrote the award-winning The Blonde Geisha and The Japanese Art of Sex. She worked as the Japan consultant on KCBS-TV, MSNBC, TechTV’s Wired for Sex, Canada’s Pleasure Zone, British Sky Broadcasting’s Saucy TV, La Biennale, Venice, Italy, Men’s Health Guide to the Best Sex in the World, Passport to Pleasure, The Vision Board and Playboy TV. She is author of Naughty Paris; Spies, Lies & Naked Thighs; Cleopatra’s Perfume (an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee); and The Blonde Samurai, an RT Book Reviews top pick.

  Books by Jina Bacarr

  Spice

  The Blonde Geisha

  Naughty Paris

  Spies, Lies & Naked Thighs

  Cleopatra’s Perfume

  The Blonde Samurai

  Spice Briefs

  Tokyo Rendezvous

  Sexy, contemporary romance stories for today’s fun, fearless female.

  On sale November 12, 2013

  Aftershock by New York Times bestselling author Sylvia Day

  On sale November 25, 2013

  Ripped by Sarah Morgan

  Definitely Naughty by Jo Leigh

  Two Red-Hot Reads available in ebook format each month!

  Visit www.harlequin.com/Cosmo today.

  Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin

  ISBN-13: 9781459254817

  NAKED SUSHI

  Copyright © 2013 by Jina Bacarr

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.