Dancer's Body

Chapter 34

Roman scribbled in his notebook at the end of rehearsal. Olivia was covered in sweat, tired from a full day of practice. "That'll do it," he said, snapping the notebook shut. "Enjoy your weekend, everyone."

Olivia hopped off the stage, officially off the clock. "I think tonight calls for a celebration," he said. "Your contract is signed, the media buzz has died down, and we've both worked ourselves to the bone this week."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Dinner ... then somewhere I've always been curious about. Somewhere, let's say, where we can practice our secrecy skills."

"I thought the secrets were over," she said, smiling up at him.

"They are. Except for a few choice ones I've been saving. Wear something tight and sexy. I'll pick you up at nine."

The Japanese waitress led them through the tiny, packed sushi house in the Pearl District to a dim back room. "What's going on?" Olivia whispered. She felt wildly, inappropriately dressed in a black jersey dress that hugged every inch of her.

"You'll see," he said.

The backroom was vacant, save for two staff members standing silently against a wall, a private sushi chef masterfully rolling his creations in the corner—and a naked woman displayed on a table. She was artfully and carefully covered in sushi and flowers.

"Oh, my God," Olivia said. "Are we ... are we supposed to eat off of her?"

"And quickly," he said. "Otherwise, the body heat will warm and slightly cook the sushi."

"Am I supposed to say something to her?" she whispered to Roman. The woman didn't flinch or look at either of them, but simply stared serenely at the ceiling.

"Here," he said, plucking a piece from the woman's throat and feeding it to her. "What do you think?"

She paused. "It's delicious," she said, slightly embarrassed to admit how much she liked the taste of something that had come from a naked body. Roman took a piece from her stomach and popped it in his mouth.

"Sake?" one of the waiters asked, and Roman nodded. The other waiter quickly and neatly wiped up any remnants on the woman where they'd taken the sushi pieces.

"Try this," he said, his chopsticks snapping up a piece from the woman's nipple. Olivia stared at the tight, brown areolas as she chewed. Am I supposed to be turned on right now? Hungry? Satiated? She wasn't sure—she felt all three. "Well?" he asked.

Each piece was different, and this one was complex, salty and a touch sweet. She just nodded. He took the one from the other breast for himself.

Olivia sipped at the sake, which purred warmly down her throat. "This tastes like juice," she said.

He smiled at her. "I think we need to work on developing your palate."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I like juice."

Slowly, they worked their way across the woman's body. It was the pieces from her pubic mound that tasted best. "Do you think it's in our heads? Or the chef made these the best on purpose? Or ..."

"Or the location really does make all the difference?" he asked. She nodded. "I'm not sure. Perhaps all of the above."

As the exited the restaurant, he took her hand.

"Full?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry, but sushi doesn't really fill me up."

"Good, that's what I'd hoped for. Because I want you to be fully immersed in where we're going next."