The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast)

by Rusilko, Dr. Ivan

  Cover

  title page

  The Winemaker’s Dinner

  Dessert

  ...

  Dr. Ivan Rusilko

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  Omnific Publishing

  Dallas

  Copyright Information

  The Winemaker’s Dinner: Dessert, Copyright © 2013 by Dr. Ivan Rusilko

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  Omnific Publishing

  10000 North Central Expressway, Dallas, TX 75231

  www.omnificpublishing.com

  ...

  First Omnific eBook edition, April 2013

  First Omnific trade paperback edition, April 2013

  ...

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ...

  Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  ...

  Rusilko, Dr. Ivan.

  The Winemaker’s Dinner: Dessert / Dr. Ivan Rusilko – 1st ed

  ISBN: 978-1-623420-32-1

  1. Contemporary Romance—Fiction. 2. Erotica—Fiction. 3. Miami—Fiction. 4. Celebrity Chef—Fiction. I. Title

  ...

  Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw

  Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

  Photography by John Conroy (www.johnconroy.com)

  Cover Models: Dr. Ivan Rusilko and Adrianne Martinez

  Dedication

  To the one girl I will love forever. ;)

  Chapter 1

  “Hotel California”

  “OH! FUCK, YES!”

  The sound of utter ecstasy rebounded off the dimly lit hotel room walls and ricocheted into the cool Miami Beach winter’s night. The ocean breeze carried the faint but sweet smell of burning colitas through an open window, providing Ivan momentary relief from the heat radiating between his torso and the body bent over the bed in front of him.

  “You like that.” It wasn’t a question but a command. His voice was barely more than a growl, resonating with power and dripping with control. His thrusts increased, and he pounded into her hard—maybe even harder than he should have—but she loved it. The crazed, glassy-eyed look on her face told him as much.

  “Ah, fuck!” was the only response she had for him as she tossed her jet black hair away from her face and across her back, practically begging his inner beast to pull it.

  A mirror on the wall opposite the bed reflected the erotic scene playing out in front of them, one of dominance and submission, power and control. Ivan grinned into the mirror as he saw a smile sweep across her lips. She looked through the mirror and directly into his eyes, watching him watch her get off. She raked her hands down the sheets and clenched the white linen between her fingers as he took her from behind, her gaze transfixed on the man in the mirror.

  Ivan couldn’t help but revel in the reflected show he was enjoying. He reached forward and grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling her head back and once again exerting his dominance over her and her body. Harder and harder he fucked her without mercy. All she could do—all he would allow her to do—was brace herself against the bed and succumb to his domination. She moaned as he held her firm, one hand gripping her ass and the other her hair.

  Faster and harder he forced himself into her as her panting morphed into a string of mangled profanity, further fueling his lust. Her body bounded back and forth, and she screamed in pleasure as the figure in the mirror dug his fingers into her hips, fucking her like a madman.

  Finally he felt her tremble under his control. He quickened his pace and wielded his power with forceful upward strokes that lifted her feet off the floor. Seeming to want all he could give, she rose up on her tiptoes to give him even more access, which he greedily took. His body began to splinter in an all-too-familiar way, and he started down the inevitable path to orgasm. His cock firmed and his spine loosened, readying his body for release. He tightened his grip on her hair, jerking her head farther back as he reached around and teased her swollen clit with hard, meaningful strokes. Each one drove her toward frenzy, and she began to scream when her body convulsed in pleasure. She tightened around his cock like a vice.

  Ivan felt her body climax, but that didn’t stop him. Needing his fix, he drove himself back into her. He released her hair and flipped her onto her back as if she was weightless, all the while marveling at her naked form: perfect, delicate, and properly fucked. His mind released a rush of endorphins—a reward for making her come—but there was another need to satisfy. His addiction remained unfed. The smell of sex engulfed him, and without a word he grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, bringing the backs of her knees to rest on his shoulders. His hands wrapped around the back of her neck, and he pressed his forearms against her shoulders, leveraging himself against her body and deepening his thrusts. Ivan began to invade her with every inch he had, making his intentions clear: he wanted, no, he needed to come.

  Every inward stroke brought him closer and closer to a nirvana he longed for, but it was in the shimmer of her green eyes and the blackness of her hair that he found what he was looking for. His spine tingled and his toes flexed against the wooden floor as his own release began to overcome him.

  “Harder!” she commanded.

  The sound of flesh on flesh and panting screams filled the room, and Ivan, now the obedient one, pushed harder, driving himself toward his sexual heaven and relishing the sound of her passion. With a final thrust he plunged inside her, finally achieving the orgasmic bliss he craved. A rush of warmth ran through his lower back and his dick convulsed. His arms squeezed her thighs and his hands cupped the back of her neck as a final spasm rocketed through his body.

  Without warning, a warm and gentle hand ran up the back of his thigh and across his ass, piercing through his sexual oblivion. His breath was still uneven and his cock still buried in the girl he’d just finished fucking as he turned to acknowledge another expectant lady standing next to him. She was naked.

  The invitation for a second go ’round with an even more adventurous third party and the annoying feeling of the restriction of a condom was all it took to strip away the last of Ivan’s sexual haze and snap his mind back to a reality that wasn’t at all what he wanted. His now-clear vision exposed the situation around him for what it was. The locks of ebony hair that cascaded across her shoulders were not ebony at all, but a dirty shade of blond, and the shimmering green eyes that he thought had mesmerized him morphed into a pool of ordinary brown. The legs he’d caressed didn’t belong to the dark-haired, green-eyed Colorado beauty who had touched his soul, but instead to a blond-haired, brown-eyed Miami Beach land shark who did little more than tickle his dick.

  “Mind if I join you?” the woman beside him asked, squeezing his ass as she stroked the blonde’s inner thigh. “I want a taste.”

  Remorse filled the base of Ivan’s skull, and he knew no amount of faceless sex would ever fill the void that lingered in his chest. Swallowing hard, he replied, “Why don’t the two of you start without me?”

  Ms. Waiting-To-Be-Fucked smiled and nodded. She slid her hands around Ivan’s waist and eased him out of the other girl’s body. The women erupted into a fit of giggles as Ms. Freshly-Fucked captured her friend by the shoulders and tossed her onto the bed. There she straddled her legs while she cooed and kissed
the nape of her neck.

  Falling back onto a chair, Ivan took a minute to marvel at the sight unfolding in front of him. His dick did more than marvel as blood rushed into it, causing it to grow hard and wanting again.

  “Do you like this?”

  Ms. Freshly-Fucked’s voice cut through him like a rusty knife, reminding him of his weakness for the flesh. Staring at them with a hard cock and mindless gaze, he simply nodded and smiled as they began to work each other over. The sight of them, naked, kissing, and touching while they beckoned for him to join, should have felt like winning the sexual lottery. Instead, it felt as if poisonous toxins were seeping into his body through every pore. Even two girls burning with need for him wasn’t enough morphine to medicate the hell he’d been living in the past six months—six long and painful months since his baby girl walked out of his life.

  The loneliness that engulfed him every day was now his companion. Jaden was gone forever, never to lie by his side again. The random sexual conquests that had become his drug of choice since she’d betrayed him were merely Band-Aids to his hemorrhaging heart. But they were his only salve against the complete and utter devastation Jaden had left in her wake. Ivan hated it, but he couldn’t avoid it. Jaden’s indiscretions had made him a prisoner of his own device.

  Life was nothing more than a faded black-and-white movie now, and the occasional thirty minutes of sex, endorphins, and vivid imagination were his sole glimpses of the once-familiar rainbow palette of colors that had painted his mornings and brightened the nights lost in her gaze. But these glimpses were just a mirage. It was life’s dick tease, nothing more than a lie to numb his mind and soothe the pain that tortured his soul.

  “Come join us?” the girls asked in unison.

  Their breasts ground together as they explored each other’s bodies, inside and out. It was a sexual feast begging to be eaten, figuratively and literally. Two gorgeous, sexual creatures taunted him with sweet sins of the flesh, but try as he might, Ivan couldn’t bring himself to say yes. It didn’t feel right. It never did. He’d gotten his fix for the night, and even though they were stunning, something was missing. It wasn’t her. It would never be her.

  Ivan cleared his throat and closed his eyes, blocking out the tempting scene on the bed before him. “I would love to, but I have to get up early tomorrow. I have patients to see.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” one of them moaned through building ecstasy. “You work on the weekend?”

  Ivan knew it didn’t matter what tale he told. So he’d been caught in a careless and quick lie. So what? Indifferent to the girls’ feelings or the web of lies he was spinning, he bent over to pull on his pants and shirt. “Yeah, concierge medicine,” he finally said. “I work when I have to.”

  “That’s too bad,” Ms. Freshly-Fucked moaned, continuing to bring her friend to climax.

  It occurred to him that she seemed rather indifferent about whether he stayed and participated, left, or just stood beside the bed and took in the show.

  Quickening her pace, she looked up at him, momentarily taking her attention away from the body writhing beneath her. “Lock the door on your way out, will you?”

  “Have fun, ladies.” Ivan chuckled and felt his dick twitch, asking him one last time if he was serious about leaving. He scolded himself for falling prey to the weakness within him, but he had nowhere to turn but an endless string of warm bodies that kept him sated for thirty minutes a night. This heaven was his hell.

  He slipped his shoes on and paused to say a final goodbye, but what was the point? They’d already dismissed him and were on about their business of fucking each other. He breathed out a soft laugh and headed for the door, sport jacket in hand. Rather than mentally high fiving such a sexual conquest, Ivan couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing some unknown injustice to himself and a relationship that no longer existed.

  As the door creaked open and he stepped into the hallway, the sounds of a white-hot female orgasm echoed after him, taunting him. But what was left of his conscience urged him toward the elevators. After pressing the call button, he ran his hand along the scruff of a beard on his jaw, trying to block out the images of the black-haired, green-eyed goddess that haunted him before, during, and after each and every deviant encounter.

  The elevator arrived, and he quickly stepped in. A feeling of familiar numbness washed over him as the doors slid shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts in a small metal box. The images that raced through his mind chased away all lingering effects of his sexual fix, and he knew it would soon be forgotten, just as he’d forgotten all the others. The elevator descended and so did Ivan, once again plunged into his own personal hell.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled, shaking his head and trying to clear it of all thought. The doors of the elevator opened, and forcing one foot in front of the other, Ivan strolled out through the lobby and into the night—alone and still searching for that place he was before.

  Chapter 2

  “Time to Move On”

  “SO, DO YOU HAVE ANY big plans for the next few months?” Kevin peered at Jaden across his oversized desk.

  This was their final wrap-up meeting of the season. They’d had strategy sessions and critiques already, so this one was really just a formality—and a formality Jaden was wondering why she had to bother with. It was her last remaining obstacle before she and the rest of the One Hot Kitchen crew would be released on a two-month hiatus, and she wouldn’t see Kevin until shooting for the next season commenced. Jaden smoothed her hands over the thin cotton fabric of her green sundress, forced her lips into a smile, and looked at him with as much enthusiasm as she could gather. Though her eyes were the same emerald green they’d always been, she now saw things so differently than when she’d first arrived in L.A. and sat in this exact spot, talking to the same man. No matter how hard she tried, there was no way she could be that stars-in-her-eyes-excited girl Kevin had welcomed more than a year ago. A whole year. Has it really been that long?

  “I’m planning on heading back to Miami for a while. I’ll visit friends and unplug for a bit.” Even as the words rolled out of her mouth, a stab of pain flashed through her mind at the thought of crossing paths with the man she’d singlehandedly broken. Images of Ivan’s face the last time she saw him filled her head and replayed in slow motion. It was a face filled with sorrow, confusion, and complete disappointment.

  Kevin looked at her for a moment, almost as if he sympathized with her situation. But he’d been careful to keep their relationship strictly professional lately, and in an instant it was back to business as usual for the head of the network. “That sounds great,” he said cheerily. “A little sun and fun will have you looking good as new. Plus, it’ll give you time to prepare for next season. Miami has some great food and wine festivals, so I’ll be sure to set up some appearances for you, maybe even a hosting job or two. You need to maximize your time as much as you can during the off-season and come back here ready to go at it. You’ve got some big shoes to fill now that you’re flying solo again.”

  Big shoes? Looking as good as new? Ugh. Clearly Kevin had different feelings about Damian Gris’s departure—and perhaps about her—than she did. I’m the one that made this show, and I’m the reason there’s still a show to come back to! The fucking nerve of him. He seemed to have rewritten history and no longer remembered the train wreck the show had been by the end of the season. Whatever on-camera chemistry she and Damian had managed to fake for a while had pretty much unraveled after she punched him. And though she’d been careful to be nothing but cordial and professional on the set, Damian had refused to play ball. A show just doesn’t work when one host doesn’t really know much about cooking and is focused only on sabotaging the other.

  Kevin was lucky she was coming back at all. One Hot Kitchen just wasn’t that much fun anymore, and it had cost her more than she could ever afford. It did amuse her a little that Kevin’s solution to the problem had been giving Damian his own show, What A Man Wants. She
was thankful not to have to deal with that son of a bitch messing around in her kitchen any more, but he was still associated with the network, and now they’d be competing for time slots. But there was no point in saying any of this right now, so she just sighed.

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to some time off to clear my head,” Jaden said. “But I’m sure if you wanted to plan an appearance or two for me while I’m in Miami it would be beneficial for the show.” Just don’t get too carried away, she added silently. I really do need a break.

  “I just want you to be on your game next season. I anticipate that we’ll surpass last season’s numbers, and who better to promote the show than our shining star? I expect you’ll attend whatever events I can arrange, especially since you’re still under contract.”

  With that, the elephant in the room flexed its muscles. Kevin had pulled the ace of spades from his sleeve.

  “I know everything that happened between you and Ivan must’ve been very difficult, but this is a business and—”

  “Kevin, I get it,” Jaden said, cutting him off. There was certainly no need to go there.

  “Okay, good. I just wanted to be clear. When next season starts, I expect you back in L.A. with a clear mind and ready to go.”

  Jaden couldn’t help but wonder if Damian had also received this sort of “Professionalism 101” pep talk. Probably not, though he’d shown he needed it. But why was she even thinking about him? At the root of things, she’d created this mess. She’d brought her personal life into One Hot Kitchen, and as much as she might resent Kevin’s insinuations, she’d opened the door for this all by herself.

  She just needed some time to get past it, to recharge, and frankly, that time couldn’t come soon enough. She managed a nod and a smile. “Is that it?”

  Kevin looked back at her as if he might say something else, but then nodded.

  “Great. Thank you.” In one motion she was on her feet and heading for the door.