Page 44 of Sing For Me

The kiss is soft at first—excruciatingly so. But when the flick of his tongue hits my lips I turn into someone not myself. I reach forward and grasp him under the ears, bringing him close to me, inhaling his scent as I take his tongue in my mouth.

My nipples peak under my shirt, my pussy throbbing. For a moment, I let myself fall into the melting sensation of the kiss. My heart pounds, my whole body reacting to the stroke of his tongue.

Then Eli rests his hands on my hips, and before I know what’s happening he breaks the kiss. “Reese,” he says, his voice rough as gravel. “I think maybe we should call it a night.”

Horrified, I drop my hands. Eli carefully slides me back onto my chair, not meeting my eye.

“Right,” I say. “Of course.”

What the hell did I do? This was not what I came here for. This was never supposed to happen. I shouldn’t have come to the bar. I should have stayed at home with Rufus and watched some late-night TV, pretending I didn’t care about Eli Dunham and his stupid sexy face with his stupid sexy eyes that right now, are raking down my front. My nipples, I know, are clearly at attention, my chest still heaving with the intensity of that touch.

He curses under his breath, looking sideways with the back of his hand up against his mouth, like maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss me again. Despite my shame, my body responds, that heat surging once more.

I reach for my coat, standing abruptly. “Let’s go,” I say in a choked voice, suddenly needing to be far away from Eli Dunham.

Because we just broke the rules. And for the briefest moment, I didn’t care.

CHAPTER11

Reese

TRACK:Dolly Parton, “Jolene”

The next week is a blur ofChef’s Apprenticeand L’Aubergine trying to operate normally around it.

I won’t say it’s not stressful—I prepared as best I could with scheduling and menus and shooting times, but by Wednesday of the first week of shooting, it feels like everything that could have gone wrong has.

But when I finally get a moment to myself, Jacques bursts into my office.

He scares me so badly my hand flies out, knocking over my nearly full cup of coffee in my hand and soaking my shirt. “Jesus!” I exclaim. Thankfully the coffee’s only lukewarm.

Then I see the glimmer of liquid across the screen of my laptop.

“Shit!” I wipe the screen and keys with my sleeve.

But doing this somehow activates an audible chat box on the webpage I was on, and a cartoon woman pops up on screen. “Hey! I’m Olivia!” she practically shouts.

My stomach drops—my computer is hooked up to a Bluetooth speaker as I was using it to play music earlier. “I’d love to talk with you about NorCal real estate!”Olivia screams.

I slam the laptop shut.

“What kind of questions do you have?”Olivia’s muffled voice continues through the closed laptop, which hasn’t shut down properly.

I look at Jacques, who’s standing with his hands on his hips. I stab the disconnect button on my Bluetooth speaker and thankfully, Olivia remains quiet.

Luckily Jacques is too absorbed in his own anger to pay attention to what my computer was saying. I hope.

“Therese! Do you even care about me? Or is it all this ridiculous show?!”

Jacques and my mother are the only two people in the universe who call me by my given name.

“Of course I care about you, Jacques. Tell me what’s going on—I’m all ears.”

Even though I’m not really, not today. Today I woke up praying everything would be good with the show. That Marcel, the contestant who won’t stop bursting into tears and leaving perishables lying around the kitchen might get his shit together. That Augusta won’t smack Todd for following her around like a puppy dog.

And mostly, that Neil will drop the suggestion that Eli and I go out on another date with him and Kelly.

For a moment, I drift into the memory of Eli’s lips against mine, his hands spreading across my thighs.

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