Dessert by Lily Harlem Page B

what lay beyond but the sound of male voices was definitely louder. Yes. That was it. The other diners were eating in privacy, each table a booth screened off from everyone else.
    That must be why the place was so hard to get into, and of course, celebrities would love it. Complete freedom from pestering fans and unscrupulous paparazzi.
    “Your service master will be with you in just a moment. Please make yourselves comfortable. Have an enjoyable meal.” Masaru pulled back the curtain to our booth.
    Whoa. Not what I expected.
    And I didn’t mean the low, cushioned purple seats or the row of red candles that sat above a brass bell. Neither was it the papery walls nor the intricate, four-foot-tall pink blossom tree made of china. No, it was the naked woman lying on the table that had my heart stuttering and my breath catching in my throat.
    “Please, sit,” Rai said, curling his palm toward the low seats.
    8
    Dessert
    I couldn’t drag my gaze from the lovely sight before me. Smooth caramel flesh rising over small breasts topped with dark nipples. The barest hint of ribs and a flat belly indented with a shallow navel. Curved hips and delicate, doll-like limbs. Slotted between her toes and fingers were vibrant pink flowers, orchids.
    Her face was heavily powdered to a milky white. The raven-black hair on her head spread like a silken fan, the hair on her pussy nonexistent, exposing two plump cushions of skin and a dark, tempting slit.
    “Mr. Alan?” Rai said.
    “Right, er, yes, of course.” I moved over to the beautiful young woman and took a seat on the low cushions. I had to stretch my legs out under the table, it was that or sit with my knees around my ears. She was now within a foot of me. I could have touched her, easily. I clasped my hands in my lap and willed them still. Temptation is a dangerous thing.
    Rai sat on the other side of the table, his shorter stature instantly making him appear more at ease on the low seating. The slightly smug expression on his face also made me think he was enjoying my moment of surprise.
    But of course—The Geisha Plate. The name did give an enormous clue as to what the exclusive restaurant was all about. Food served off Geisha girls.
    My stomach tensed, my underarms prickled with warmth and blood rushed to my cock. I didn’t have a full-blown hard-on, but there were definite stirrings. And not surprisingly, because it had been a while since I’d seen a naked woman. Janice and I had split over a year ago and apart from a couple of one-night stands, I’d had to rely on my hand, usually late at night if I happened across one of those seedy TV channels.
    So a delectable female lying supine before me, utterly naked, was having a more extreme effect on me than under normal circumstances—normal circumstances being when I was getting a regular supply of bedroom action. Something I’d never had to worry about since hitting my late teens. I was lucky, girls seemed to like my height, 9
    Lily Harlem
    sharp features and easygoing nature. And if girls liked what they saw, I’d soon learned, they got naked, sweaty and dirty real quick.
    Amen.
    “Sake?” Rai asked.
    I dragged in a breath and nodded, grateful for the distraction. My thoughts weren’t helping the pressure in my pants.
    He handed me a small shot glass of clear liquid. We touched rims and I tried to look cool and unflustered. As though having bare breasts below a clinking gesture was everyday routine for me. I was cool, it didn’t bother me.
    Hastily I knocked back my drink. The flavor was like wildfire, a crisp slap to my tongue. I hissed in a breath in an attempt to put out the flames and at the same time welcomed the alcohol hit that accompanied the burn.
    Rai topped up our glasses and I studied the girl’s face. Her heavily kohled eyes were closed and her enormous black lashes created long shadows on her pale cheeks—
    pale except for a round blob of raspberry rouge in the middle of each. Her lips gave the illusion