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Hell's Smitten	By : WhatItShouldveBeen Category: Celebrities - Misc > Het - Male/Female Views: 3173 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is fiction, I do not know Gordon Ramsay and I make no money off this story!

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
Sunday, June 30th, 2013
The next morning we had the great honor of NOT being woken up early. I personally am the type of person who prefers to sleep until the ripe hour of 3pm or so, but I suppose waking up at 9:30 am is the best I could hope for what with being surrounded by so many people with paper thin walls.
Taylor is laying in bed drawing on a sketchpad.
"What are you drawing, Tay?" I lean over in bed towards her.
She smiles and turns the drawing towards me. It is a cute little dog sketch, the pup is laying down in a patch of flowers.
"Oh, it looks lovely!" I grin, sitting up in bed.
"Thank you, (Y/N), I haven't had time to draw any so I wanted to keep practicing before I fell out of practice." She taps the eraser end of her pencil against her temple, "Gotta keep the ole cogs workin'!" she giggles.
I look around the room and see that we are the only ones still in the bedroom. I am amazed that I managed to sleep through everyone else getting up. Yawning and stretching, I ask Taylor if Ramsay has started calling people for meetings yet.
"Oh yes." She stops sketching and considers my question for a moment, "He's talked to about a third of us so far. I think Gail is with him now."
Does that man ever sleep? I think to myself, wondering just how early he'd started calling people in.
"I'm gonna head out and get some breakfast made, do you want anything Tay?"
"Oh, no thank you, I already ate some cereal. I just wanted to hang out where there weren't a lot of people when I was drawing. I don't like it when people try to creep on my artwork when I'm not done yet," she paused, "of course I don't mind sharing with you! Just, not other people." She waved her pencil at me as I left the room.
Still wearing my night outfit of a white t-shirt and blue shorts, I amble into the main room. About half of us are wearing our day clothes while the others are still in pajamas. There is a small group of people sitting on the couch together, Garrett, Dave, Jay, Bella, and Gina are all chatting away. Bella has her legs thrown over Dave's lap and is leaning back into the arm of the sofa laughing loudly at anything Dave says. Dave's hand is resting on one of her bare legs. I roll my eyes and go to the cupboard to pour myself some cereal.
"Ohh, look who's finally awake!" Bella shouts from the couch, leaning on one elbow to face me.
"Yep, just trying to get some extra Z's while I can," I say back, sitting down at a bar stool just outside the kitchen with my cereal in hand, not looking at her. Abel is to my right, reading a thick book. I can't make out the title. Pietro is in the kitchen humming as he cooks up some sausage.
"We were all just discussing what we'd talked about with Ramsay when he called us in. He's much kinder when he's not having to deal with us fucking up," Bella laughs, putting one arm around Dave's shoulders.
"He even showed me a few things," Bella pries, obviously looking for jealousy on my face. I still don't look at her but I can't help myself responding,
"Oh yeah? Did he show you how to be less of a drama queen?" I ask.
Dave laughs a bit, to which Bella scrunches up her face and removes her arm from around him,
"No, but he did show me how to properly tell the doneness of steak. He showed me where on my hand I could feel to compare to it. It really was quite informative." Her eyes glint impishly.
"I'm glad he could spare the time to teach you the basics, I certainly wouldn't have wasted his time with something as simple as how to tell when the steak is not mooing," I retort.
Bella huffs and flips her hair over her shoulder, pursing her lips and turning away from me.
Dave pats her leg comfortingly, but Bella continues to look sour. Dave and Abel exchange glances, unsure what to say.
A few minutes later, Gail comes back to the dorms and diffuses the tense silence. She retrieves Shaun and sends him downstairs to Ramsay's office.
I feel anxious as I wait for my turn. I finish my cereal then decide to get dressed. I reenter the dorms and go looking in my drawer for something to wear.
Deciding on a nice top that hugged my body and a pair of black leggings, I quickly get dressed. Taylor is still laying in bed doodling when I emerge from the bathroom.
"Have you already met with him, Tay?"
She shakes her head no,
"Nah, but I will be called soon, I can feel it. I don't have anything to really say though so it'll probably just be him talking to me until he's done. What about you, are you excited to see him?"
My eyes grow wide before I realize that the mics were turned off and put away since last night. I let out a breath but still motion for Taylor to keep her voice down. I sit at the end of her bed then whisper,
"I hope I can get some answers as to what is going on between us, but honestly I'm anxious. I have never been truly able to speak to him before just by myself. I know he likes me but... what if he doesn't like me once he actually gets to talk to me?" I look down dejectedly.
"Babe, chill out." Taylor bops me on the head with her sketchbook, "He's totally into you. My only thing is like, I hope you figure out what he's going to do about his wife. Y'all can't really be sneaking around forever."
My heart drops at the mention of his wife. I know it is something I have to bring up, but it kills me to think that what happened at Dining in the Dark might have to have been a one-time thing. We both were pretty caught up in lust and not really listening to our brains. Taylor notices my silence and sits up in bed, lays her sketchbook down and pulls me into a hug.
"Listen, girl, not everything can be forever, just enjoy what you have while you have it. So many girls want to be in your place, I can tell you that." She gives me sly look, "I know Bella has been trying for him since the beginning. Buuut Ramsay doesn't seem to be into sluts," she covers her mouth as she says the last part as if she is embarrassed to curse. I hadn't noticed it until now, but I don't think I'd heard Taylor curse until just then. Huh, that's very different, especially for such a high-stress environment as this.
Just then, the door to the dorms opens and Shaun's voice came through the crack, "Taylor, you're next up," he passes on the message while averting his eyes from the room. It is nice to see he respects our privacy.
"Oh! Alright, hang on, I'm going!" she quickly closes her sketchbook and places it in the drawer beside her bed then springs up and makes to head for the door. She waves to me before she leaves, closing the door behind her.
I decide to rejoin the rest of the group in the main area now that I'm dressed. I take a seat on a chair near the sofa and listen to the idle chatter of the others. None of us have access to the outside world, which means no phones or television. It is a bit different for me to not be able to spend time on a weekend enjoying a show or playing a video game. Eventually, Taylor makes it back and requests for Abel to go meet with Ramsay next. She comes and sits on the arm of my chair and we discuss random things until it gets to be about midday. Finally, Pietro taps me on my shoulder.
"Hey, (Y/N), you're up last," he gestures towards the stairs.
My heart began to pound. Taylor pats my shoulder as I get up, then slides off the arm of the chair into the cushion of the seat.
"I'll hold your spot! Go on." She pushes my behind, spurring me to move.
My breath catches in my throat as I walk down the stairs to the kitchen. Eventually, I make it to the stairs leading to his office. Carefully, I hold onto the railing as I force myself to ascend. This is either going to make or break our 'relationship'. I feel the weight of the moment like cinder blocks on my feet, dragging me down.
Deep breaths, (Y/N), the voice in my head reminds me as I stand outside his ominous door.
Hesitantly, I bring my knuckles to the glass of the door and knock, almost too quietly.
"(Y/N)?" comes Chef Ramsay's voice from the other side of the door.
"Y-yeah..." I mumble, before I gasp as the door is opened quickly and I am pulled inside by my arm, the door closing rapidly behind me.
Ramsay stands over me, achingly close to my body, his eyes burning into mine. His hand is still gripping my arm as he looks me up and down.
After what feels like forever, he speaks.
"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?" he sounds pained.
I shake my head, unsure as to what he is talking about exactly.
"You. You. From being near you to smiling at you... for fucks sake, I struggle to keep myself from looking at you too often. You're some sort of..." he pauses, his hand that is on my arm slowly trails up past my shoulder to the side of my face and cups my cheek, "tantalizing, irresistible beauty."
I blush heavily and try to look down, but his hand on my face keeps me looking directly at his eyes. Those bright, shining, beautiful blue eyes that look at me with so much longing... I'm dying inside as I can only think of his wife. I step back until I am almost against the wall, Ramsay lets me out of his grasp but keeps watching me intensely.
"Chef, I..." I pause, tears almost coming to my eyes, "what about your wife? I'm not some fling, you know, and I don't want to cause you and her any issues and-" I am stopped by him stepping forward and pulling me into his arms.
"(Y/N), it's alright. And I respect you for asking, but it truly is OK." he holds me to his warm chest and I once again am overtaken by his delicious, masculine scent.
"How is it OK though?" I murmur into his chest, kicking myself for continuing my line of questioning when I could have just easily let him hold me and forgotten about it.
"Tana knows," he says, his chin resting on my head. I look up at him disbelievingly.
"She... She knows? She knows about us?" I shake my head, not able to comprehend what is going on.
"Yes, she does. Well, not about you specifically, but she has given me permission to do what we're doing." Continuing to hold me, he pulls me back from him to look at my face.
"What are we doing, then, Chef?" I ask, pleading for some sort of answer.
Wordlessly, he pulls me into him once more, but this time he bends down and his lips meet mine.
I kiss him back tenderly, throwing my arms over his shoulders and lacing my fingers through his soft blond hair. It is euphoric finally having him all to myself, his hands exploring my body openly, getting lower and lower... I let out an involuntary gasp as I feel him lift me by my thighs, pressing me against the wall I had retreated into moments before. Our kiss quickly deepens and becomes more desperate. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him to me fiercely.
When we finally separate for breath, our eyes meet- wild and full of unbridled passion- before he lifts me from the wall and carries me to his large wooden desk.
The desk is strewn with papers and other assorted doodads, I don't care to really look before I push everything to the side, making space for him to lay me down on the desk. I release him from my arms but keep my legs wrapped around him as he breaks the kiss and begins planting pecks down the side of my neck. His breath is warm and I arch up into him, whimpering.
"You are so beautiful..." I hear him mutter into the side of my neck, the vibration of his voice against my skin raising goosebumps. I can only stifle a moan in response, unable to form words.
Suddenly, his hands whip up and grab my wrists, pinning me to the desk. He looks down at me, studying my breathless and flushed body with a steady gaze. When he beds down to kiss me again, he pushes himself flush against me, his groin directly resting between my legs that are still locked around him. The heat emanating from us both causes a sheen of sweat to break out across my skin. He lightly moves his hips against me, tantalizing my imagination with what he might feel like inside me.
"Do you want me to continue?" he draws his head back from our kiss, questioning.
I nod, biting my bottom lip and watching him through my eyelashes. He releases my wrists, then gradually and deliberately, he rolls my shirt up and over my head. My bra is nothing special, just a standard white, but his appreciation for how I look is evident in the further stiffening of his pants against me. His hands grasp my hips and pull me into a sitting position on the desk, sending a few more papers flying off and onto the ground.
"Take my shirt off," he demands, one hand holding the small of my back.
I nod once more, then grip the sides of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head.
knock knock knock
"Uhhh, Chef?" the hesitant but nonetheless recognizable voice of Pietro sounds at the door.
Ramsay groans, then looks around the room. There aren't many places I can hide, and time is getting short. He indicates for me to go under his desk silently.
Obediently, I grab my shirt and then slide under his desk in a sitting position. I can hear Ramsay gather some papers and the like from around the desk before he fixes his clothes and sits down at the desk. His legs are on either side of me, my face staring directly at his crotch. I clutch the fabric of my shirt tightly in my hands, trying to remain still.
"Come in, Pietro," he says, then moved one hand under the desk and to the side of my head, pulling me closer to him. He leaves his hand there, holding me mere inches from his black chef's pants.
"What is it, hm?" he inquires as I hear the door open, while his thumb rubs my cheek invisibly. I longingly eye his length through his pants, hoping that he might pull me even closer for a better 'look'.
"Hey Chef, I just wanted to mention something I forgot to say earlier," the sound of a chair scooting out then Pietro's huff as he sat down.
He pauses for a moment before he tentatively asks, "is- is now a good time?"
Gordon's leg shifts stiffly as he responds,
"Why wouldn't it be, Pietro? Just doing a little reorganizing of my desk is all, if that's what you're referring to. What was it you wanted to ask?"
Pietro breaths a sigh of relief before he continues,
"I think that I'm really starting to get the hang of the cooking times required for the different types of fish, but I wanted to ask, can you show me personally how to cook salmon with the skin on? I always, always burn it!" He sighs exasperatedly.
"Of course Pietro. Give me a few minutes, go get your chef's jacket on and I'll meet you in the kitchen," he responds.
"Thank you so much Chef, I really want to win this thing for you, you know?" Pietro sounds highly appreciative.
"It's no problem, Pietro. Go on now, give me a few minutes," Ramsay dismisses him.
"Sure, sure! Thank you Chef!" he replies, then I hear the sound of Pietro scooting the chair back out and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
After a few seconds, he pushes his chair out from the desk, but takes me with him, holding my hair and drawing me up from under the desk and into his lap. I put my knees on his chair next to his hips then place my hands on either side of his face, pulling him into me once more. He wraps his muscular arms around me as we kiss- finally breaking away after what feels like no time at all.
"(Y/N), love, you have to go before Pietro makes it back to the kitchen, he's a lumbering man but he isn't that slow," he smiles up at me, his eyes sparkling.
"Of course Chef," I nod as I manage to draw myself up from his lap, standing instead next to his desk as I pull my shirt on. Eventually, I arrive at the door, then look back at him. Ramsay is sitting at the disorderly desk still, his hair a bit messier than before but otherwise looking the same as he ever does, the smile still on his lips.
As I go to turn the doorknob, I hear my name,
"(Y/N)?" he questions.
"Yes, Chef?"
"Call me Gordon."
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Hell's Smitten