Wonton Lust

"About five more minutes," he called out. "How's the rain looking?"

"I can barely see across the street," Sierra responded. "My weather app says it's supposed to keep up like this until sunrise. Thank God I didn't schedule a second late-night session. We all would have been washed down the ridge."

Johnny carefully scooped the wontons up with a ladle and dropped them into the boiling water. "Do you need a couple more towels to dry off with?" he politely offered.

"It's a lost cause," she laughed. "I used all the towels you gave me and I'm still soaked. I'm gonna get wet running back to my car anyway. The only way I could dry off would be to strip naked, but that would probably get you in trouble with the health inspector."

Johnny nearly called back that it would be worth the citation. He caught himself, however, and instead gave a chuckle more akin to a snort. "Do you have plans once you get home?"

"Eat and go to sleep. We're closed on Mondays, so I can spend the day relaxing and getting the spa ready for the sunrise session on Tuesday. I should probably go grocery shopping at some point too."

"This is where my uncle would say you could always just order from us."

"We'll see how I feel around dinnertime," she laughed, bringing a smile to Johnny's face as he gently stirred the wontons. "How about you? Do you work tomorrow?"

"I don't work Mondays. I do a double shift on Sundays so my uncle can take off, and then he does a double on Monday to cover me."

"Do you mind working Sundays?"

"Not really. We get busy during ski season, but we've got a TV in the kitchen so we can watch football while we work. Otherwise, it's slow enough that I can do most of the prep cooking for the week. I mixed up this ba-wan paste this afternoon, so it's as fresh a wonton as you can get in central Colorado."

"First you let me in after close, and now this? I'm being spoiled." Her voice dropped low as she added, "Too bad you're not working tomorrow, because I'd order delivery if I knew you were giving it to me."

Johnny paused at Sierra's statement. The wontons tumbled over each other in the boiling water while he considered whether or not her words held a flirtatious edge. It was a brief deliberation, however, that came up negative. It was only a joking comment from a normally energetic customer. You've got sex on the brain, he mentally scolded himself. Months of work-induced celibacy, the dark and stormy weather, and Sierra's inadvertent display of her incredible body were all to blame.

Besides, the "Pizza Boy Special Delivery" trope was nothing but fiction. In the seven years that Johnny had worked at A Taste of Taipei, not once had he (and to the best of his knowledge, nor his co-workers) been propositioned to exchange food for sex. The closest Johnny had ever come to the cliché had been when he had made a delivery to the diehard stoner Ian Rocker. When Ian couldn't remember where he had left his wallet, he had offered Johnny a bag of weed in place of payment. Johnny had taken it, of course. Everyone knew that Ian somehow had the best weed south of Glenwood Springs.

As he grabbed a plastic to-go bowl, Johnny thought back to Sierra's earlier statement about running to her car. It was a thirty-second run from the front door to the public parking lot. Even if he double-wrapped her order, there was a good chance it would get soaked, and Sierra would be enjoying warm soup instead of hot once she got home. Plus, there was always the chance of her slipping and falling on the wet sidewalk, turning warm soup into no soup.

He set the plastic bowl to the side and took a ceramic bowl from a nearby shelf. He scooped the wontons from the pan one at a time, letting the water drain from the ladle before setting them in the bowl. After throwing a pair of bok choy leaves in the boiling water to blanch, Johnny filled four finger bowls with various condiments for dipping - red chili flakes, sugar, hot mustard, and soy sauce. The bok choy joined the wontons once they were done, and then Johnny provided the finishing touches by pouring the soup stock over the wontons and adding a dash of white pepper.

With the balance only years of restaurant work could provide, Johnny brought Sierra's order out to her without using a tray. "Here you go," he proudly stated as he set the bowls on the table. "One piping order of ba-wan wonton soup."

"I thought you said you were making this to go?" she exclaimed.

"I was, but you said you wanted something hot to fill you up." The look of pleasant shock on Sierra's face brought a smile to his own. "Your food would have been cold by the time you got home and probably soaked too. This way, you can enjoy it while it's nice and hot. Let me grab you some chopsticks and a spoon."

"Johnny," Sierra laughed in disbelief, "you didn't have to go out of your way like this."

"I couldn't let you drive on an empty stomach." He handed Sierra the utensils. "Let me know how it tastes."

"Probably as good as it smells." Sierra tore open the package of chopsticks and eagerly popped a wonton in her mouth. A low moan escaped her lips while she chewed. "Oh my God, this is fantastic. It's exactly what I needed."

Her deep sigh of appreciation once again threatened to draw Johnny's eyes to her chest as her tank top shifted. "There's no rush," he told her. "I still have to make your to-go order." Johnny gently raised his hand to cut off her protest. "I simmered too much soup stock and I can't let it go to waste. Take your time and enjoy yourself."

She picked up a fresh wonton and lightly dipped one edge in the bowl of sugar before eating it. "Mmmmm," she hummed as she savored the contrasting flavors. "You have no idea how good this feels in my mouth." It was another friendly, harmless comment, but from how Johnny stirred underneath his khakis as he headed back into the kitchen, his neglected libido thought otherwise.

With fresh soup stock added to the simmering remnants, Johnny began making Sierra's original order. The only sounds in the restaurant were the hiss of boiling water and the clink of the chopsticks against the ceramic bowl as Sierra enjoyed her ba-wan soup. He glanced over at one point to see her with a blissful look on her face as she slowly chewed on a wonton. He had seen happy customers before, but this was the first time he had ever seen one so utterly satisfied.

Sierra's enjoyment of the meal he had cooked for her gave him a burst of energy. By the time she was scooping up the final drops of broth, Johnny had finished her order and triple-bagged it. "One order of ba-wan wonton soup to go," he said as he set the paper bag on the table next to the empty bowl, "along with condiments and a package of crispy noodles. How was everything?"

"Amazing," Sierra proclaimed with astonishment. "That was the best ba-wan I've ever had, soup or otherwise. Did you do something different this time?"

"Nope. Same recipe, same cooking methods." He motioned to the howling rain outside the front window. "Maybe the weather had something to do with it."

"Or it could be that you cooked it with kindness for a hungry, wet, wayward woman." Leaning back in her chair, Sierra said, "I can always tell when you make my order. Your uncle's a good cook, but you should be working at one of those fancy new restaurants up at the resort."

"Then I'd have to wear a chef's jacket and get yelled at by a manager who just got yelled at by a customer. No thanks." He motioned with both arms, taking in the entirety of the restaurant. "Besides, this will all be mine when my uncle retires. Then I can encourage everyone to yell back when someone makes a petty complaint like tonight."

"Oh? You had one of those customers?"

"An almost-customer. A lady called from the Drop at 10:52 and complained when I told her the driver already left to beat the storm. Said she was going to give us a negative review. My uncle believes 'the customer is always right.' But I'm more 'the customer is always right unless they're obviously wrong.'"

"I wish I could have that attitude, but the tourists and out-of-towners are the ones who pay my bills." Johnny nodded sympathetically as she continued. "During the summer we do outdoor classes up at the Drop. This year I added a late-night class called 'Meditation Under The Stars.' After we wrapped up tonight one of the clients came up and told me that he didn't feel relaxed and wanted his money back. I discussed the matter... no, I'll be honest, I argued with him for half an hour. I only caved in because he promised not to write me up on social media."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"He was still better than the one I had yesterday. I'm doing an afternoon session, and this lady's alarm goes off to remind her to Facetime her dog to let her know she misses him. That, I kind of get, but this lady stays on her mat and talks to her dog! And when I ask her to please step away until she's done, she shushes me without even looking at me!" Sierra pressed her knuckles against the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "Ninety-nine percent of my customers are a blessing, but it's that one percent that wrecks me. The curse of being a small business owner."

"That's exactly how it is," Johnny agreed. "All it takes is a potential customer looking at a bad review on Yelp and instead of coming in here, they'll walk down to Joey R's or the Silver Diner." He crossed his arms and let his shoulders slump. "The worst is when it sticks with you. I know I'll be thinking about that lady tomorrow on my day off, even though she'll be halfway back to Denver by the time I wake up."

"I get it. All it takes is one bad customer to suck up your positive energy." Shaking her head, Sierra finished her water. As she pulled the glass away from her lips, a lone ice cube made its desperate escape by slipping over the rim of the glass. His eyes reflexively followed its journey to freedom, which ended when it dropped onto Sierra's chest.

Sierra gasped as the ice cube slid perfectly between her breasts before disappearing beneath her tank top. "Oh my God!" she proclaimed. "That's cold!" Johnny watched as she reached underneath the bottom of her tank top, fishing for the runaway cube. "How the heck did..." Her eyes widened in shocked realization. The red fabric shifted as her fingers brushed the lower portion of her chest. "Oh my God!" she proclaimed again, quickly pulling her hand free. "I forgot my bra!"

Johnny heard her statement, however, his eyes were on Sierra's flat abdomen. The ice cube had fallen to the floor while she had reached for it, leaving behind a wet trail of water that glistened on her tan skin. The spell was broken when Sierra pulled the hem down. His eyes snapped upward, but fortunately, she was still straightening out her tank top. Once everything was back in place, she brought her hand to her face. "I can't believe I didn't put a bra on," she remarked, embarrassed. "I was in such a rush to get down here, I completely forgot."

Standing next to the table, Johnny was at a loss. His hands moved in small circles as he tried to cook up sympathetic words. "Hey... it... happens... to all of us?" he offered weakly. "I mean, there have been a couple of times I worked an entire shift and not realized I forgot to put socks on. Look at it this way. It's one less piece of clothing you'll have to dry off."

"I guess." She reached down and slid her thumb between her waist and the band of her gym shorts. "And I forgot those too," she chuckled. "My desire to eat overpowered my attention span."

The thought of Sierra being utterly naked under her clothes spurred his arousal. Johnny felt himself taking in her entire body, including her tanned foot as it stuck out from under the table. Pink nail polish adorned her toes. "At least you didn't put on socks with your sandals."

"I would have noticed wet socks. You always notice wet socks." Sierra put her chin in her hand. The teasing smile she gave Johnny put him aback as she said, "At least now I know why you've been staring at me since I got here."

His jaw dropped open. A stuttered noise of protest managed to pull itself from his throat as he struggled in vain for something, anything, to say. Several flirtatious comments were offered by his libido, only to be shouted down by his embarrassment from being directly called out. Fortunately or unfortunately — he couldn't figure out which — Sierra filled the awkward silence. "It's OK, Johnny," she reassured him. "You're not the first guy or girl to ogle me. It beats staring because I had a humongous booger hanging from my nose."

Her words put Johnny at ease. "I was," he admitted, "but not on purpose. Every time I glanced over to check on you, you were stretching, or twisting, and... yeah. Only for a second or two, I swear."

"It was longer than a second or two," she grinned. "How good of a look did you get? And be honest." She pinched the neckline of the tank top and briefly fanned it away from her body. "This is one of my comfy tops and I need to know how much I'm showing off without a bra."

Johnny chuckled with embarrassment. He glanced at one of the tapestries on the wall, lightly scratching the back of his neck as he avoided looking Sierra in the eyes. "I looked over at one point when you were leaning over the table, and I could see right down your shirt. I had a full view of everything. I didn't say anything because, well, there's no way I wouldn't have come off as a massive creep."

"That's fair. What did you think?"

"Of your... of the view?"

"Yes, Johnny." Sierra's laugh echoed through the empty restaurant, making him blush. "The view. I personally think they're spectacular. A second opinion never hurts though." She leaned forward, elbows on the table, subtly pushing her breasts together to enhance her cleavage. "Thoughts?"

It was probably due to the earlier verbal struggles that he had a polite answer ready to go. "You have a fantastic body," Johnny told her. "All the work you put into doing yoga and taking care of yourself is really paying off."

"And the non-diplomatic answer?"

His deep sigh came with a side of wry grin as he realized she wasn't going to let him off the hook. "You have an absolutely killer rack."

Sierra's rowdy laugh echoed in the empty restaurant. "I have never had them described that way before," she said, her entire body shaking with amusement. "Thanks for an original compliment."

Johnny offered a smile, and Sierra gave him one in return. The two looked at each other as an awkward silence fell over the restaurant. The only sounds were the driving rain outside and the cooling tick of the kitchen stove. He debated making some kind of move on Sierra — asking her for a ride back to his apartment or inviting her to Pike's for a quick drink. Polite rationality won. Their conversation may have taken a turn, but it felt more harmless than flirtatious. Johnny didn't want to risk alienating a long-time customer who probably wanted nothing more than to get home and put on some dry underwear. Or, more likely, take off her wet clothes. As that mental image briefly flashed through his head, Johnny realized that there was only one way he was getting to sleep tonight. At least he'd have fresh thoughts of Sierra in that loose red tank top to assist him.

Sierra broke the silence. "Thank you, Johnny," she told him. "That soup made me feel so much better, mentally and physically. I've got enough energy now for a nice sauna soak before crawling into bed." Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall. "Wow, it's almost 11:30. Let me pay so you can get home." She reached into the pocket of her gym shorts. A confused look crossed her face as she checked her pocket. "Wait, did I..." The confusion turned to resignation as she patted her other pocket. "Damn it," she cursed quietly. "My wallet's still in my bag. I forgot to grab it when I got out of the car."

"Don't worry about it. You've been a loyal customer for years. Consider tonight on the house."

Sierra shook her head firmly. "You let me in from the rain, stayed late to cook me dinner, listened to me complain, and gave me the best damn ba-wan I've ever had." She ran a hand through her damp hair. "I'm not going to be the second lousy customer you have tonight. Maybe there's some other way I can pay you?"

"You're not a lousy customer. Besides, you can't pay me." Johnny gestured to the cash register. "I already cashed out for the evening. I'd have to open it back up to add your order and then my uncle would call me tomorrow morning to ask why there was an order after close. As I said, it's on the house It's the least I could do after getting a free look down your shirt."

"And I appreciate that, I really do, but let me try this again." Sierra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, her eager gaze was directed squarely on Johnny, and her voice was woven with a smoky huskiness. "Maybe there's some... other way I can pay you?"

Uncertainty and politeness were quickly shoved to the side. Johnny looked at Sierra for several seconds as his libido finally assumed direct control. "That... well, that depends, Sierra," he stated, his confidence growing with every word. "What did you have in mind?"

Sierra stood up from the table. There was a sultry twist in her hips as she closed the short distance between them. Johnny fought the urge to tremble while she brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Her hair smelled like rain. "I came here tonight for something filling," she said playfully. "You filled my stomach. Maybe now you can fill my pussy?"

It was the vulgarity that sparked his impulse. Before Johnny knew it his hands were around her waist. Her body tensed up as he suddenly pulled her close. They stared at each other for brief moments, heart rates quickening, before he firmly kissed her. Sierra immediately responded by sliding her tongue into his mouth while reaching down and grabbing his butt, molding his body against hers. His stiffening penis began to strain against his khakis as they shared a hot, fervent kiss.

Johnny was briefly thankful when Sierra pulled away. She still held onto his butt with a firm grasp. "I take it that's a yes?" she panted as they caught their breath. When he nodded, she smiled deliciously. "This isn't the first time someone's offered to pay for their food with a good fuck, I bet."

"It is." Sierra scoffed in disbelief. "Seriously," he told her, "that cliche's a myth. I was just thinking about it earlier."

"Were you now? And was I the customer who couldn't pay?"

"Not exactly..."

Johnny was cut off by Sierra bringing her hand around to reach underneath the front of his khakis. An electric shock raced through his body as she wrapped her fingers around his erect cock. "Oh my," she purred, "this is more than I expected."

Despite the pleasure caused by Sierra's fingers gliding over his manhood, Johnny gently pulled her hand free. "Wait," he told her, wincing at the disappointed look on her face. "Before anything happens, I meant it when I said the ba-wan was on the house. You're not... I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"I don't feel obligated," she grinned. "I want to do this. Don't you?" Her palm pressed against the zipper of his pants, making him groan. "It feels like you do."

"I do. But things came to a boil, really fast."

"Ah. Now I get it." Both of Sierra's hands now rested on Johnny's waist as she told him, "I did come in here just for something to eat. But then you kept looking at me. And I loved being looked at. When you work hard so your body looks good, you crave being appreciated. I thought it was cute when you kept stealing glances, but then you told me you scored a lucky view down my tank top. That turned me on. And then you tried to be a gentleman about it, and that turned me on more. When I realized I forgot my wallet and you were willing to let it slide... that's when I decided I'd rather have you inside of me right here than my fingers when I got home. As for coming to a boil, when I'm down to fuck, I don't need to warm up, and my mind gets absolutely filthy. We could go at it right now and have a good time. But considering neither of us wants to brave the storm right now, we can take the time to blow off a little extra steam."