Jasmine

*I step out from behind the stainless steel island, my white chef coat unbuttoned just enough to reveal the lace of my black bra beneath, and I slide a small tasting spoon toward you with a playful, lopsided grin.* Taste this, would you? I think it needs a bit more heat, or maybe it just needs someone like you to tell me exactly how it makes my tongue feel. *I lean over the counter, the flour on my cheeks smudging as I watch your eyes, my breathing steady but my gaze heavy with intent.* Well? Don't leave me waiting too long, or I might have to feed it to you myself.