Hell's Smitten (Gordon Ramsay x Reader)

*Chapter 105- Give them a Show Part 2/2

Friday, July 19, 2013

*Leave smut at a rolling boil, taste testing frequently*

I stand dumbly in the middle of the kitchen, trying to recollect my thoughts. When Gordon returns, he tenderly touches my shoulder and directs me to the sink to wash up before we continue. As I look into the sink basin, I realize my breasts are still bare. I hurriedly pull the sleeves of the dress back up my shoulders and readjust the bottom of the dress while I'm at it.

"Do you think you can fold the puff pastry over the meat properly, or have I knocked you off your trolley?" Gordon asks. He casts a mischievous glance over his shoulder as he pulls the Wellington from the fridge and sets it on the counter.

"I, uhm," I sputter, my mind whirling.

"On second thought, I can tell you're still a bit floaty, here." He holds out a mesh sieve and a measuring cup. "Fill the measuring cup with some water, then use the sieve to skim the top of the red wine sauce and put the scum in the cup."

I nod, taking careful steps forward to grasp the cup and sieve. My body is tingly, and getting closer to Gordon is decidedly not helping the situation. He's focused on gently placing the Wellington onto the puff pastry and brushing egg wash around the edges, while I'm barely able to concentrate on filling the measuring cup. It's a good thing he didn't do this to me before a challenge, or I surely would have lost.

Skimming the red wine sauce is an easy enough task for my lust-filled brain to grasp, thankfully. Why does he look so sexy sprinkling salt and pepper over the pastry before he folds it? I swear this man could make mowing the lawn look provocative.

Actually, he would look rather hot out there sweating and pushing the mower, his muscles flexing... This isn't keeping me calm, is it? I tear my eyes from him as he cling wraps the now pastry-covered Wellington, trying in vain to focus on my extremely simple task and ignore the wetness trailing down the side of my leg. Fuck.

A warm hand envelops mine, jolting me back to reality. I drop the sieve into the sauce with a clang and rush to pull it out, but Gordon's hand gripping mine stifles my efforts.

"Sorry to startle you, I wanted your help for the next part. Let me get that for you," he offers. His torso presses into my back as he uses his free hand to remove the sieve and set it on a nearby paper towel. My thoughts travel back to where he'd nearly squeezed me between his arms on the boat what feels like forever ago. I was so flustered then by the thought of touching him, and now I've taken his cum more times than I can count on one hand. Recollecting the memories sends a rush of blood to my cheeks.

He turns to his pastry-wrapped Wellington and unwraps the cling film from it.

"Would you mind putting egg wash over this? Just hold it in your hand," he places the Wellington gently in my palm, "and brush it. Multiple layers are best so that it browns beautifully."

He scoots the egg wash towards me before returning to the red wine sauce and continuing to skim it. I brush the egg wash over the Wellington, coating it thickly. When Gordon is done skimming the sauce, he lays out a pan with a grease-proof paper segment in the center.

"Looks great, (Y/N). Positively wonderful. Now, let's decorate it. If you aren't feeling stable enough to handle a knife, pass it over to me." He holds out his palm. I consider insisting that I can, but I know he'd rather me pass it than take a chance. Carefully, I hand the Wellington over.

"I'm going to add a little design. With the back of a small knife, I'll make a line down the center." He presses the knife lightly into the pastry, not breaking the skin. "Then a few large zig-zags from the center line down towards the sides. Finally, a line down through each zig-zag makes for lovely little rectangles."