Jina Bacarr - Naked Sushi

A Delicious Mistake

One day I’m getting canned from my job as a computer programmer for having wild copy-room sex with a guy I thought was the new game designer. The next, I’m crashing my ex-boss’s business lunch in a creative attempt to get my job back, and men are eating sushi off my naked body!

That’s when I realize

a) My ex-boss is hiding corporate secrets

b) Hot copy-room guy is an undercover FBI agent

c) I would make a kick-ass spy!

Then Special Agent Hottie brings out his cuffs, and things get really interesting....

Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women.

Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon

www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo

Dedication

To Roberta Brown, who has always been there for me.

Dear Reader,

I love James Bond, with his gadgets and his wild, sexy adventures. As a kid, I spent many afternoons in a dark movie theater, riding shotgun with the handsome spy in his Aston Martin. And the women in his life, oh, my! I’d never be Honey Ryder, but I had this fantasy about filling her bikini.

So I created Pepper O’Malley. She doesn’t want to be a Bond girl; she wants to be James Bond. Agent 007 in high heels. Why not? Pepper is a crack computer programmer who just happens to wear glasses, but she can beat the boys at their own game. Like so many girls who work in male-dominated fields, she has to work twice as hard and be twice as smart.

I know what Pepper is up against. I wrote a column called Sweet Savage Byte for a computer magazine, where I looked at the world of technology from a female point of view. I also worked for a video game company, wrote code and created audio/video. These experiences paved the way for me to write Pepper’s adventures.

I had a blast writing the story of this girl-spy wannabe who ends up sporting not a bikini, but yellow pom-pom chrysanthemums and a banana leaf when she becomes a naked sushi model to get her job back. She finds herself caught up in the world of corporate espionage with a sexy FBI agent and his hot chopsticks.

My story is sexy and fun but also explores the real-life challenges women face in the workplace. I love hearing from my readers. Follow me on Twitter, @JinaBacarr, www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.authorand my website, www.jinabacarr.com.

Bon appétit!

Jina Bacarr

Naked Sushi

Jina Bacarr

Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women.

Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon

www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Chapter One

Naked and as helpless as a beached mermaid, I held my breath. I was about to get eaten by the sexiest man alive.

I knew taking off my clothes was not a smart career move. But did I listen?

Did I?

Out of work and desperate, I had no choice but to take this gig if I wanted to survive. So here I was, lying on a table nude except for a shiny pink thong, banana leaf and yellow pom-pom chrysanthemums, which covered my breasts.

A live sushi plate.

Rose petals lay scattered around me, and was that pickled ginger I smelled?

What if I sneezed?

It got worse when I saw the gorgeous man who got me fired from my computer job grabbing a sliver of red tuna off my belly, pinching me.

Ouch, that hurt.

He gave me the “sorry, babe” look that got me into trouble in the first place. Those smoldering dark eyes of his had led me into temptation. Self-assured and no doubt used to getting his own way, he oozed danger from every pore. I would have followed him to hell if he’d asked me.

He didn’t. Instead, he seduced me on top of the copy machine at midnight. His tall, athletic body crushing mine against the glass, his hands everywhere. And every dark fantasy I ever had came true. An orgasm that kept coming. And coming...

I groaned.

God, look at that grin. He knew what I was thinking. He knew I wanted him even if I was majorly pissed at him.

Then he had the nerve to wipe his chopsticks across my midriff, leaving a trail of sticky white rice. His tongue flickered out as if he intended to lick the gummy rice off my bare skin.

Oh, yes, please!

I dared not move a muscle.

I couldn’t believe I was lying here naked, belly up, with raw fish spread out all over my body, even around my pubic area. Waiting for this guy to make his move. He appeared unconcerned by the fact I was at his mercy. I would have died if his sexy lips nibbled on me, lips that I imagined were both soft and rough, tender yet insistent in finding out what was underneath that crisp, brown banana leaf glued to my mound.

As if I was going to let that happen.

Phew. I smelled like raw fish, tasted like raw fish, and I had raw fish, cold and slimy, sliding down between my thighs, much to the delight of the salivating man breathing on me. I felt so vulnerable lying here, unable to move, as I watched him licking his chops.

I stifled a groan in the back of my throat, imagining him pushing his probing finger into me, testing the moistness inside me, his touch arousing me before his mouth found the pleasure of my pinkness. Sucking on me, giving my swollen clit so much attention I could hardly stand it.

In my mind, he stroked me faster and harder, delicious sensations building inside me and the ache turning into an unrelenting agony when he went down on me and—

Dream on. I’ll never let my defenses down again. How can I?

It was because of him I got fired from my job. I allowed my overripe female hormones to be seduced by this man with a slow, irresistible smile.

And a great butt.

He looked amused, which annoyed the hell out of me. Because of my indiscretion, I wasn’t getting unemployment checks, my savings were almost gone, and my rent was due.

Naked sushi, indeed.

I wasn’t just pissed. I was going to get even.

* * *

It all started weeks ago when I was working late, preparing to copy the cue sheets for a commercial spot due in the morning. No big deal. Five minutes of slaving over a hot copy machine, and I’d be heading home to my studio apartment with Chinese takeout.

A single girl’s best friend, next to her rabbit vibrator.

The office manager had gone home, so I decided to do the job myself, though I wasn’t familiar with how the new machine worked. I was a computer research analyst programmer for a video game company, better known in the world of corporate acronyms as CRAP.

It was a private joke among programmers. No corporation could run without our snappy codes and erratic symbols splashed across pages of files that looked like Jackson Pollock got stuck inside a computer.

I liked my job.

I analyzed and edited clips of our company’s ads and video games and then recoded the video and audio files and converted them for various media. I also did postproduction, including sweetening the videos with music. When I got bored, I’d get creative and do fun things, like embed hidden erotic poems into corporate microdots in PowerPoint presentations. Easy as texting if you knew how.