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Authors: Melissa Jane

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BOOK: Tequila Nights
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CHAPTER
7

 

 

If the food looked it, it tasted like a slice of heaven on my tongue. It was difficult to savor the moment when my taste buds were causing a song and dance. Leo’s toast had both warmed my insides and caused a nervous reaction. My hand had a visible shake and I could see Leo eyeing me with hidden concern.

“So how long have you owned the restaurant?” I asked, trying to distract my thoughts.

“For three years. I’ve been fortunate that it’s opened many windows for me.”

“Has your friend worked as a chef for you since the beginning?”

He nodded. “Jase is a quick learner, and after a few weeks he had mastered all my family’s recipes. He’s just as committed to this restaurant as I am. Despite how it may have looked earlier.”

“Is everything okay? With his little girl I mean.”

This time, he shook his head. “Unfortunately no. Mimi developed leukemia from the age of two. She’s been in and out of remission for the last three years. She has her on days but recently her off days have been hitting her hard.”

A lump formed in my throat for the poor girl. “That is heartbreaking.”

Leo released a deep sigh. “It’s so difficult because she’s so vibrant. Almost as if the darkness that’s destroying her hasn’t affected her in any way. She is the strength. Jase is a doting dad, but Mimi is the backbone of strength.”

“And the mother?”

Leo pursed his lips together. “Shot through a long time ago. It’s been just Jase and Mimi for a few years.”

I had no words.

“Jase is the head chef but since I taught him all he knows, I step up whenever he’s required to be with Mimi. It could be just before he starts service like tonight or in the middle of it. Her off days can be so precarious, neither of us wants him to take the chance to not be there for her.”

“I…I don’t even know how I’d cope. I couldn’t even comprehend where to start. They must be such a strong little family even if it is just the two of them.”

“They are,” he reassured even though Mimi’s story had touched me in such a way it was taking great strength to not burst the river banks.

“Enough of that. I asked you on a date to woo you and I’m failing miserably.” Rising from his chair, he held his hand out to me. Taking it, I let him lead me to the dance floor which was just for us.

“Shouldn’t the restaurant be open tonight?” If it were a Monday night, I could understand it being closed. It wasn’t exactly prime time of the week for diners.

“Yes, it should. Fortunately, I get to make some of the rules around here.” Leo twirled me around before bringing me in close against his hard chest. I tried to disguise my audible gasp, but his smile revealed all. His cologne caught me in a drug induced daze, my hands snaking up and around his neck.

Leo’s expression now mirrored my own, eyes hooded with desire and lust. His own hands ran the length my back and settled on my waist. We started to move, rocking side to side as if dancing, our bodies connected in almost every way. We didn’t need music. We were creating our own rhythm.

“Josie,” he whispered, lips grazing mine. “I wasn’t expecting you. But I’m not going to challenge fate.”

Swallowing the tightness in my throat and I let Leo kiss me.

I let him cup my cheeks drawing me in, deepening our connection.

I let him kiss me because his taste had me craving more.

I let him kiss me because when his tongue met mine, I felt like I was in the place I was meant to be.

I let him kiss me because I had to savor the moments I had with him.

I let him kiss me because he was everything I wasn’t expecting.

 

***

 

Leo pulled away leaving us both breathless. His thumbs stroked my temples, holding my face close to his. My body was celebrating, shivers of delight ravaging me. Leo’s chest was rising and falling heavily teasing my nipples through my sheer blouse. Closing the space between us again, he sucked my bottom lip and gently nibbled between his teeth. My knees threatened to give way, one of his hands circling my waist to steady me.

“Josie,” he murmured. “I’m trying to be a gentleman on our first date, but if you keep moaning like that against my mouth I may lose all restraint.”

“Maybe I want you to.”

His delicious lips formed a smile and my heart melted. “Oh, I want to also. But I like to savor you in every way. For now, I like the tease. Feeling your gorgeous body, but not touching you everywhere I fantasize about. Tasting but not devouring. Nibbling instead of eating you whole.”

Oh…

He lingered on my lips, his words broken by the intensity of each kiss. My hold around his neck grew tight drawing us in until I could feel his hardness. It had the desired response. I was jelly in his arms, my clit coming alive and throbbing uncontrollably.

“Young lady,” he playfully chastised. Leo reached behind and took hold of my hands. In a swift move, one I wasn’t expecting, he crossed arms, spinning me around and pulling me in close, my back against his chest. I could now feel his hardness pressing against my ass, passion soaring through my veins. My head lolled back against Leo’s shoulder, his cheek pressing against mine.

He rocked us gently, lips brushing my ear. “I hardly know you, but I’m already so consumed by everything you do. Your taste. Your scent. The way you move.”

I wanted to tell him the feeling was mutual, but I was too transfixed by his words.

“Very soon, Bella,” his words were loaded with a promise I desperately needed to be fulfilled.

 

***

 

Guiding me back to the table, Leo leaned in and kissed me once more, lingering and caressing.

“I have dessert in the kitchen.”

“This isn’t it?”

He smiled against my lips. “I would love to eat you for dessert and I plan to soon.”

Holy shit!

“But for now, I have Savoyardi for you. New to the menu, and would love to know your thoughts.” Kissing me one last time, I sat down watching him stride tall and confident into the kitchen. Sipping my wine, I let the coolness dampen the heat that I was sure had me flushed and rosy cheeked.

Leo returned in less than a minute carrying a large plate. Placing it in the middle, I stared in awe at the masterpiece. “It looks incredible. Is it your mother’s recipe?”

“It is, but she uses a different liqueur than the one I’m experimenting with.”

Handing me a fork with a wink, I couldn’t help but think how strangely intimate everything was to do with Leo. His cooking was just the icing on top. Taking a mouthful, Leo’s eyes focused on my lips slipping over the fork, his tongue darting out moistening his own.

And there it was. A flavor explosion of a thousand tiny cherries in my mouth.

“Wow! That is incredible!” I said, my mouth full of food. On the ‘female eating etiquette’ scale of one to ten I came in at a miserable one. I would never last on a date eating sushi. That shit hates me.

Leo’s eyes lit up in delight. “The sponge is soaked in liqueur and then baked again so it crystallizes.”

“You thought I was joking earlier about tying you up in my kitchen, but I can assure you, it’s happening.”

There was a pause while he considered my words. “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

CHAPTER
8

 

 

Resting my head against the door, my sigh sounded more like a mini-tornado leaving my mouth. My body was so amped up, on the verge of losing control having been teased all night. We’d finished our wine and Leo called a cab to drop us both off.

“You two woke the neighbors,” Nicole’s amused voice sounded from the stairs. She was chewing on a stick of red licorice.

“We did not.”

Maybe we did.

It got pretty heated as he walked me up the stairs. Taking me in his arms, we fell against the door, our tongues meeting for a dance, our panting possibly drawing unwanted attention.

“How’d it go? Spare no details and remember I know when you’re lying to me.”

“He is…” I was staring up at the ceiling shrouded in shadows, “he is…just perfection.”

“Does he have a brother?”

“Huh?”

“A brother. Does he have one?”

I didn’t know. I’d only known him for over a week yet why did it feel so much longer than that?

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’ll ask when I see him next.” Pulling myself off the door, Nicole followed me up the stairs to our shared bathroom.

“And when is that?”

“He’s picking me up Friday after class.”

Nicole wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “Is he a good kisser?”

“Out. Of. This. World. And he is a master in the kitchen.”

Leaning against the doorframe, she heaved a sigh of her own. “Please God, let there be a sibling. That’s two outta three, Josie. As Meatloaf would say, “that ain’t bad,” but I hope for your sake he’s just as divine in bed.”

“Something tells me he’s got that covered. And what about Brett?” I asked keenly to take the focus off my love life.

“What about Brett?”

“Well, he doesn’t really seem your type but you were quite taken by him.”

“From meathead to nerd, I’m always up for a change.” Nicole had quite the knack for choosing men of the extremes. They either excelled at being abusive douchebags or were so apathetic it was a wonder how they got through life, especially with someone like Nicole who could often be high-maintenance.

“So? You didn’t answer my question.”

Pouting, she folded her arms. “He’s taking me on a date tomorrow night.”

Pausing from washing my face with a wet cloth, I looked to a friend who hardly seemed happy with the prospect of being courted. “Your enthusiasm is killing me.”

“See, that’s just it. I should be more enthusiastic, excited even, but I’m just…not.”

“So don’t go.”

A silence ensued while she appeared deep in thought. “He has big hands,” she said causing me to snort in laughter.

“Sold. Even more the reason you should entertain the idea of dating.”

Blowing me a kiss into the mirror, Nicole turned and vanished into the dark room. She had a beautiful heart that had been downtrodden far too many times as a result of poor choices in men. We had moved in together after a relationship came to a crashing halt, and Nicole was admitted to hospital after her man at the time drunkenly assaulted her. It had taken a black eye swollen so tightly closed it didn’t heal for two weeks and a cracked cheekbone for her to admit she had to leave it behind.

There’d been no serious boyfriends since then as she regained her confidence in social environments. To the outsider she oozed too much, in reality, however, she was just a gorgeous redhead scared of weakness.

“Ahem,” Nicole startled me by clearing her throat. “Your phone dinged.” Her smile was contagious and seeing as it was past midnight, we both knew who it would be.

“Give,” I demanded and she complied.

 

Leo:
Goodnight beautiful legs.

 

I couldn’t hide my smile from Leo’s message which only encouraged Nicole’s response.

“If you decide you don’t want him, send him my way.”

Biting my lip, my mind raced through all the short but eventful memories we’d shared so far. Something told me I didn’t ever want to let him go.

 

CHAPTER
9

 

 

“Sooo,” Marge plonked herself next to me in class Friday morning. She was wearing a short-sleeved collared blouse patterned with a floral print and baggy striped pants that engulfed her legs. For an art student, she was more eclectic than knowledgable on patterns and colour schemes. “Professor Lindsay has come to agree that she needs to be pickier with the models that come through.”

Rinsing my brush in a glass of turpentine, I wiped the excess on my rag. “Really? It seems our Monday nights have gotten that little bit more interesting.”

Marge possessed an innocence unlike any other, one that meant no harm to others and for that reason, despite having little in common, I was fond of her. Pushing thick glasses up on her nose, she continued, “Apparently she was so taken by Leo she’s going to offer more to get him back.”

“Is that so?” Biting my bottom lip, I restrained my smile. I could only imagine his face when he got the phone call.

“I can’t imagine anyone would be unhappy about that,” she snorted with laughter and this time I chuckled with her. “This is beautiful,” she said, her eyes now glued on the painting I’d begun that morning. It was still in blocking mode, adding basic colours to fill in the shapes, but surprisingly the bodies that intertwined were a striking image already.

“Ms. Marks,” the familiar sound announced behind the dividing wall. Her shrill voice always put a certain amount of fear in us. She wasn’t a happy woman. In fact, Monday night had been the only time I’d seen her wearing a smile. Red wine was definitely a factor. And now, as she rounded the easel it was obvious she could do with a bottle.

Marge shifted uncomfortably next to me. She always grew anxious like she expected to be reprimanded for no reason.

“Yes, Professor?”

“This arrived for you today.” She held the cream A4 envelope between her fingers, the ornate filigree pattern stamped on the front causing my heart to race.

“Is that…”

“Of course it is,” Professor Lindsay said as if I were daft.

Exhaling a deep breath, I realised I was shaking. It definitely wasn’t the physical response I expected to have if I were chosen. I pictured champagne and bubbles, and a night out with Nicole to celebrate. Now, only one face flashed before me. A face that had me doubting a decision I’d made long ago if it were ever to happen to me.

It was irrational.

It was too quick.

Denying it was incomprehensible.

 

***

 

“Open it,” Marge’s encouraging voice broke through my thoughts.

Using my palette knife, I slid the blade under the fold, cutting the envelope open. Inhaling deeply, I freed the letter and read it to myself before telling Marge.

“You have been accepted…” I started. The four words should have been cause for celebration. “Congratulations Ms. Marks, your portfolio has been assessed and we are pleased to announce your admittance into the Lafayette Sponsorship Program.” I didn’t bother to read the rest. I knew when the starting date would be because I’d been anxiously awaiting the letter in the mail for quite some time. It had been between myself and nine others from across Australia vying for the one position. In truth, I’d never expected to get it.

“Josie, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you happy? This is amazing.” I nodded and deep down I was happy. It solidified that I was good enough. That four years of having every pencil mark, every brushstroke and every analytical interpretation critiqued with a fine tooth comb had paid off in the end. I now had it all.

 

***

 

Marge followed me down to the ground floor when studio time came to a close and security were chomping at the bit to lock up. It was a Friday afternoon and the sun was still shining, but it seemed the university encouraged early weekends.

While doing my best listening to Marge’s story about her noisy nocturnal neighbors and their apparent raucous sexual life, my mind drifted to the decision I would have to make before the end of next week.

“And she screams like a banshee, and he has this weird habit of pounding his fist against the wall.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t his fist he was pounding.

“Then everything goes quiet for about an hour and then starts up again and as soon as that bloody happens, Harold carries on barking and…fuck me!”

“Marge!” I both snorted from laughter and gasped from shock simultaneously. Marge never swore. Like ever. She was one of those rare breeds who failed to see how at times it could add emphasis to the English language. Not today. Following her line of sight, I could see what warranted her response.

Leaning with his arms folded against the passenger side of his sleek black convertible Mercedes was Leo. He looked every bit as edible as I remembered him and apparently Marge thought so too.

“Do you think he’s here to pick up the Professor?” She looked both excited by his presence and that she may have just stumbled upon some juicy gossip.

“No, Marge.” I faced her head on, a strategic move so I could capture her visible response. “Leo and I, we are kinda seeing each other.”

Just like she had when she saw him bending over naked, Marge’s mouth gaped open, her normally squinty eyes now perfect circles. She was frozen as she was silent.

“Marge? Speak to me.”

“You and the…the model?” she finally stammered, her irises failing to hide the shock.

“Yes, although he doesn’t model, it was a dare that he lost.”

I should have thought about my choice of words before spitting them out. Marge’s expression morphed from shock to crestfallen. “What do you mean? He won’t model for us again?”

“Unlikely.”

She huffed a little, shoulders slumping. I felt for her. “Well, Professor Lindsay will be devastated.” Suppressing my smile, I was certain it was Marge who might not recover. “She’s really gonna hate you now.”

 

BOOK: Tequila Nights
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