Wasabi Heat (3 page)

She‟d caught him looking at her like that for weeks now, but she figured he humored her. As a frequent patron, she thought Zen indulged her, spent time talking to her, exchanging ideas and contemplating life‟s many twists and turns, had been his efforts to keep her as a customer. Boy, had she been wrong.

“What‟s this green stuff here?” Kiki asked, drawing Nadia‟s attention back to the big boat taking up the table. “It looks like paste with green food coloring.”

“Wasabi. You mix it with soy sauce, or eat a tiny bit on your sushi. It‟s incredibly hot.”

Hot like Zen. Goodness he could add his flavor whenever he wanted. Light me up. Cool me down.

Make me come.

Kiki grinned. “Oh no, I like my intestinal tract without holes.”

Nadia laughed, her cheeks hot from her very erotic thoughts. “Here, I‟ll mix it. You try a little bit.

Tonight is a night for experimenting, remember?”

“I‟m not the one who needs to remember that,” Kiki said.

“What does that mean? I‟ve tried almost everything on this thing...”

Kiki smirked at her. She nodded in Zen Su‟s direction. “Yeah, but not him.” Nadia didn‟t need to look back again. She knew Kiki referred to Zen.

She met her friend‟s gaze. “The night‟s not over yet.” Kiki smiled. “Touché.”

The Next Evening

“
It doesn't bud if you don't seed
.”

--Japanese Proverb

“Ah, „ello, Nadia-san,” Asuka said tightly, her ebony blanket of hair hiding half of her face as she bowed. When she stood up, she avoided meeting Nadia‟s eyes. She simply said, “Follow me.”

The edges of Nadia‟s smile wilted at the chilly reception from the usually warm and sunny Asuka. The din inside Wasabi‟s Sushi rose when Nadia stepped inside from the foyer. The now familiar scents rushed her and unlike usual, they made her unsteady. The music she normally found refuge in caused the butterflies in her stomach to stir. Ahead, Asuka stalked through the crowded restaurant with ease, and Nadia had difficulty keeping up with her. Part of Nadia wanted to flee, race from the place and out into the chilly October air. The other part wanted, no,
needed
to see him, to have him alone.

They bypassed the sections of the restaurant where Nadia normally had meals. She spied Asuka‟s velvety black hair slip through a trio of servers and on back toward the restrooms. Instead of going into the restrooms, Asuka turned the knob on a third set of doors marked Private.

When Nadia entered the room behind Asuka, her breath hitched. A square room sat with a round table in its center. Thick candles flickered in strategically placed sections of the room, making it romantic. Scents of vanilla and Japanese Cherry blossoms saturated the air. Asuka bowed toward Zen Su before leaving. The door made a soft click at her exit.

Zen stood beside the table, where two tapered candles burned lazily. He stood about six feet two inches. His hands had been clasped behind him. The ebony suit had to be designed by hand, it fit him too nicely to be an off-the-rack item. Glossy leather shoes completed his look, and he came forward with those gorgeous, electric eyes of his peering into hers.

“You made it.”

She smiled, because he sounded relieved. “Yes.”

Her voice wouldn‟t let her say more than that simple answer. The image he struck—all powerful sex and sensual delight—stole her voice. Took it and ran all the way someplace else. How was she going to sit through dinner when all she could think about was kissing his lips, snatching off his tailored suit and having her way with him?

“Nadia, I am sorry if this seems rash,” he said softly, gesturing her to the empty seat across from him. Gleaming white plates sat with an equally white cloth napkin folded beside the plate. On each plate were origami swans. Two each, touching bill to bill, forming a heart. Saki cups and chopsticks rounded out the table setting. “Thank you for coming here tonight.”

“This, this is wonderful, Zen,” she said, walking over to the chair. “It‟s beautiful in here. I never even knew you had a room back here! I mean…”

She was babbling. He stared at her with the beginnings of a grin ghosting his lips. “I‟m sorry. I‟m babbling.”

“I do not want to make you nervous,” he said, his rich baritone rolling over her spaghetti-strapped shoulders like velvet. Behind her, he pushed her chair up. She sat down in the chair opposite him. With her heart fluttering, she met his eyes steady gaze. “That is the last thing I want.”

Good. Good, that means he meant to ask me out.

“So, Zen, what are we having tonight?” she asked, more than aware of the tremble in her tone. She coughed to clear her anxiety. Why was she so freaking nervous? A date. Sure it had been a while since she‟d been on a date, but her sweaty palms and fluttering stomach spoke to teenager level anxiety.

Because it’s him. My fantasy made real—the source of endless masturbation fantasies—Zen Su

Chow.

“I had Ichiro make your favorite,” Zen answered, a soft smile on his face. The candlelight revealed

the gentle tint of blush on his cheeks.

He went to a small cart parked along the wall. Draped in an ivory tablecloth, the cart brimmed with covered dishes of various sizes. With a flourish, he returned to the table with a small wooden plank piled neatly with sushi. She spotted the eel at once, but he had included a tuna roll and a few sashimi items she‟d ordered her many visits . Then she noticed the Kampai Sashimi, Ace Han Roll and Avocado Roll, which had been her favorite for the entire month of August when it was too hot to eat anything else. A Super Dragon roll also consumed most of the left side of the plank—that one she had on her birthday.

How could he have remembered all the selections she‟d ordered over the last three months? All of her favorites were laid out. She couldn‟t really believe he‟d put that much effort and paid that much attention to her orders. Maybe, maybe he could look it up on the register. Yes, that‟s probably what he did.

But even if that had been true—which deep inside she didn‟t really believe—Zen Su had paid a lot of attention to her. This pleased her and she instantly felt all warm and gooey inside.

“Wow, Zen…” she ran out of words. Completely speechless, she sat with her mouth slightly opened. He remembered…every order…every piece she ate from a menu that boasted more than 50 different sushi and sashimi combinations.

“You enjoy these, yes? These are your favorites,” Zen said, with the hint of a grin. “Saki is in the cups, but I can order what you want, if you want something else?”

“This is great! Are you kidding?”

Clearly pleased, he sat down, and using his chopsticks filled her plate with food. After he finished with hers, he added some of the delicious food to his plate. In silence, they set about fixing their respective soy sauces, and aligning their plates to how they would eat.

When done, he raised his sake and said, “To us.”

Nadia blushed. It seemed so intimate. If she doubted Zen‟s interest in her, they had quickly faded. “To us.”

The liquid burned in a delicious way. Almost instantly she warmed, the alcohol heating up her inside. She didn‟t need any more encouragement because Zen‟s proximity made her horny and hot enough. Still, sake calmed her.

“The wasabi is very good,” Zen said. With a quick flick of his chopsticks, he ate another piece. He swallowed and pointed with his chopsticks. “Try it.”

She did, mixing a nice dollop with some soy sauce. She picked up a piece of salmon and dipped it in the mixture. When it hit her tongue, she rolled her eyes in pleasure. So good.

“Oh, yeah, that‟s so good.” Zen laughed. “Agreed.”

The ice broken, the awkwardness and her anxiety coaxed by sake, she and Zen ate. Laughing and talking about managing a business and politics, time both slipped by and stood still. When Nadia looked down at her watch, she couldn‟t believe two hours had passed.

“Wow, look at the time!” She noted with a bit of disappointment her cup was empty. “I‟m sure you have to get back to work. Close the restaurant or what have you.”

Zen‟s smiling face faltered a bit. He shook his head slowly, tsking her a bit.

“I have managers to handle that, Nadia. You are more important than work. Are you not enjoying yourself? I can have Ichiro make…”

“Am I?” she asked softly, her throat closing. How long had he felt this way about her? “Of course, I‟m having a great time. No need at all to make more. I‟m stuffed.”

“I like being here with you,” Zen replied evenly, but the thread of heat set each syllable on fire. He leveled his gaze at her and it zipped right through to Nadia‟s heart.

That look meant only one thing—desire. She squeezed her thighs together to try to ease the growing ache throbbing there. She swallowed and re-crossed her legs. Her pussy already glazed with desire‟s dew, grew wetter still when Zen leaned forward on the table, and took her hand in his. Rubbing her knuckles, he refused to relinquish their shared gaze.

Wordlessly, he stood up, still holding her hand firmly in his. He came slowly around the curve of the table. When he reached her, he guided her out of her chair. With her heart hammering, she swallowed. He touched her chin, and lifted her mouth toward his. With gentleness, he leaned down and kissed her. At once, she tasted the fresh hint of fish and the spiciness of the wasabi. It added an already sizzling fire to his kiss. Zen coaxed her lips open farther, giving his permission to explore her mouth, to share with her his very essence.

His fingers, nimble and determined, slid into her hair. With slow massages, he caressed her scalp. They tangled in her strands, and she melted into his kiss, into his smooth hands and into the hardness of his chest. Not relinquishing her right hand, Zen moved it to his waist, and held her arm against him. She shook off his hand and wrapped both of her arms around him, feeling his stone torso beneath the tailored suit and really, really wanting all the fabric that separated them off and tossed carelessly on the floor.

She breathed him in, tasting him, and hearing the rasp of his desire. Zen hugged her one-armed to him, his fingers lost in her hair, and he moaned—he nibbled around the edges of her lower lip. When

he released her mouth, he held her firmly to her, and gazed down at her. Carefully, he untangled his fingers from her hair.

“That too was, tasty,” he confessed softly against her ear.

She beamed and tucked a rogue hair behind her ear. Her ebony Nine West heels brought her right up to his chest, and he had to bend a bit to reach her mouth, her ears, and her neck. Not that he seemed bothered by it. Zen had to be the tallest Asian she‟d ever met.

Height didn‟t seem to be an issue as his tongue found her earlobe. Sucking it gently between his lips, he used his teeth to graze it.

His breath hot against her ear, his smooth accented voice confessed, “I want to take you someplace more
private
than this, Nadia. I feel such hunger and desire for you.”

Nadia didn‟t doubt his words because she could feel the hard swell of phallus pressed against her lower abdomen. Sizable and impressive, the rumors of Asian men having small cocks must‟ve been confined to someone else, because this Japanese male definitely didn‟t fit those parameters. Not that it made much difference. Nadia knew that it was all in how he swung the bat, not necessarily the size of his equipment.

But judging by his size, Zen had more than enough to fulfill her deep ache.

As if to gain her attention, he bit her earlobe, making her love button beat faster. “Answer me,” Zen said, voice laden with lust. “Do you want to go home?”

She stepped back from him, and swallowed hard. For months, she‟d come to this restaurant and ate—most often by herself—ogling this man. She went home, full of sushi and masturbated about this man. Him. Zen Su Chow.

And now, now that the Fates, destiny, whomever had placed the most delectable dish in front of her, he had the nerve to ask if she would taste him? Devour him? Beg for seconds and thirds?

“Absolutely, let‟s go to my place,” she said, enjoying the erotic thoughts skipping through her

mind.

Zen frowned. “I am sorry this is not to your liking, Nadia.”

She paused as she bent to take her purse from the chair‟s back. “I loved it, Zen. What are you

talking about?”

“You did? But you want to go home. May we meet again?”

She peered at him and searched his face. He avoided her eyes and his long eyelashes seemed to shield his eyes from her. It clicked for her then.

“Oh, I see. You‟re going home with me, Zen.” His looked up at her. “I am?”

With a broad smirk, Nadia said, “Oh absolutely. This order is to go.”

“
There is no teacher for love
.”

--Japanese Proverb

Zen‟s body felt flushed—a strange combination of heat and air. Part of him wanted to float off to Cloud nine, but the other, the uncomfortable hardening of his cock, kept him grounded. Walking out of the private room with his thickening phallus would be awkward. He removed his jacket, folded it, and carried it in front of his semi-erect phallus. The thoughts of Nadia, naked and in his arms, her full breasts in his palms, and his lips wrapped around those chocolate-tipped nipples that pressed impatiently against her blouse fed his desire. Nadia wore a sheer blouse, but he couldn‟t see through the fabric—not that he had tried. Her nipples, they must be hard as diamonds, for they pushed through her bra and her blouse.

“Zen,” Nadia said firmly, laughing. “Earth to Zen.”

He blinked and turned to look at the source of his delicious torment. The steps to the restaurant‟s exit door and his car couldn‟t come fast enough.

“I will need to tie up a few ends before we leave,” he explained to her. “Oh sure. No problem.”

They let the private room, down the hall and out into the main lobby. The restaurant had emptied except for a few couples lingering over the candle lit tables. Asuka came charging around from the registers bank, her face scrunched into fury. What happened to anger her?

“Asuka…” he said startled, but his niece‟s eyes focused solely on Nadia. Then, he spied the glass in Asuka‟s hand. A wine glass. “No!”