One Night, White Lies. Jessica Lemmon
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as he punched the button for the twenty-first floor.
She was in an elevator, alone with Reid Singleton, heading skyward to his hotel room, where they would have sex. Drew smothered a smile as she examined her strappy shoes, a flush of heat creeping along her neck as she imagined him removing those shoes and kissing his way up her calves...
She was as confident in his ability as she was in herself, although admittedly her confidence was fairly recent. Three years ago, at age twenty-four, she decided she’d no longer hide behind the excess weight or comfort herself by eating. She hired a personal trainer and cut out processed and fried foods and quickly dropped the unwanted pounds.
Drew loved food. Of that she’d had no doubt. But she didn’t feel an ounce of shame admitting she loved food now that she had a healthy relationship with it. No longer did she soothe her negative emotions by eating; now she exercised or worked. She’d changed her mind-set—decided she was worthy of the good things life had to offer—and that had made all the difference.
A little over a year ago she’d achieved another goal. She’d been featured in Restauranteurs, an industry magazine, as one of the “Top 30 under 30” professionals. She’d been the only restaurant public relations manager in the magazine.
Her employer, Fig & Truffle, owned several restaurants, cafés and bars in and around Seattle. It’d been Drew’s job these four years to oversee the soft openings. Seattle’s foodie scene was massive. And after the feature in the magazine, Fig & Truffle boosted her pay and made Drew the PR go-to.
She handled press, booked reviewers, interviewed top chefs from around the world...which was how she’d met her previous boyfriend. Chef Devin Briggs was the cherry on top of her “I’ve arrived” sundae, but they didn’t last. How could they when he was a selfish ass in love with only himself?
Jerk.
“Second thoughts?” Reid’s smooth voice interrupted as the elevator bumped to a soft stop. He was watching her with curiosity and not in recognition, thank goodness.
“Not at all.” She stepped out when the doors parted, pausing in the long corridor for him to lead the way. He palmed her lower back as they walked side by side, and again she became intently aware of him—of the breadth of his shoulders and warm weight of his hand on her body. Of his comforting presence.
There was an innate kindness to Reid one might overlook upon first meeting him. Probably because he was insanely gorgeous. That sharp jaw, full mouth and the hint of a dent at the center of his chin were so all-consuming it took a few minutes to realize he was human and not a futuristic sex toy designed solely for a woman’s pleasure. Looking at him was a decadent treat—forget kissing him. Only she’d never, ever forget. Not even when she was ninety and gumming her food.
At the end of the corridor, Reid guided her to the right to a double-doored suite. He scanned his key, and gestured for her to go in ahead of him.
The suite was about one hundred times nicer than her room. She’d bunked at a hotel across the street from the convention center. Her room had a rattling air-conditioning unit, pilled, nubby carpet and wall hangings the color of pea soup. She’d have to tell Christina the next time her company offered to send her out of town to upgrade the room if possible.
Conversely, Reid’s room was modern and posh. No piano, but the palette was a tasteful dove gray and pale ocean blue and minimally decorated with stylish furniture. The door opened to a wide sitting room with a couch and colorful throw pillows. A flat-screen television hung on the wall. A kitchenette and bar were on the opposite side, and the bedroom was visible through an open door across the room. Her eyes snagged on that room for a beat, imagining being laid on that stone-colored bedspread under Reid’s blue-eyed attention...
Her recently earned confidence took a sudden dip.
“Nice. This is nice,” she told him, her smile feeling brittle and forced.
“My company spoils me.” He walked to a desk in the far corner, lifted the phone’s receiver and murmured into it while she meandered around the suite. The bathroom was the size of her entire hotel room, the soaking tub wide enough for three people to sit comfortably.
“Champagne and strawberries are on their way up.” She turned to see Reid stuff his hands in his pockets, his expression handsome and affable. “You didn’t think I’d bring you up here and strip you bare right away, did you? Where’s the fun in that?”
He untucked his hands and came to her, cradling her jaw. “If you change your mind at any time, Christina, say the word. I’m not owed anything.”
“That won’t happen,” she whispered. “I need this more than you know.”
A flicker of concern sparked in his eyes before a flame of desire crowded it out. She rested both hands on his chest, and he took the invitation to kiss her deeply. The only sounds were the soft suctioning of their mouths and the gentle scrape of the material of her shirt as he moved his palms over her arms.
Drew hadn’t been with anyone since Chef Devin Briggs left her to start a family with another woman. Drew hadn’t been ready for a family. She’d been building her career and enjoying her freedom. Devin, eleven years older than her, had already established his career and was ready to settle down. It’d been a frequent topic of argument between them, and had eventually led to their demise.
She’d been single since he left, working hard and skipping sleep in pursuit of becoming the very best at what she did. As a result, she hadn’t had time to feel truly lonely. Christina had been there to distract her, chattering away about work or her own guy problems.
Drew had spent any free time she’d had researching and reading about food service and public relations, or staying up until the wee hours to call chefs in other countries who might be interested in lending their expertise to one of Fig & Truffle’s franchises.
In short, she hadn’t had the time or inclination to indulge her fantasies.
Until tonight.
Her fingers twitched with the urge to undo each button on Reid’s shirt and kiss a trail over his hard chest to the muscular bumps of his abdomen. At the same time, she worried that somehow he would see her—the former her. That the pounds she’d lost would reappear in his mind and he’d recoil, leaving her feeling unworthy all over again.
Ridiculous, she scolded silently.
He nipped her bottom lip before peppering kisses on the side of her neck. Her worries dissipated with each press of his lips. Overcome by longing and the sensations in her sex-starved body, Drew gave in to the experience that was Reid.
He must’ve sensed that she was through talking or stalling, because next he bent and lifted her, propping her back against the wall. He continued kissing her neck and collarbone as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He anchored her there with his hips between her open thighs and—oh!
Her center lined up perfectly with the hard ridge of his erection, which made its presence known as it pressed against her most sensitive spot.
“Ready, both of us, then.” He ground against her, sending her into a mental free fall.
She’d never imagined sex with him would be a reality. When she’d last seen him, she’d been eighteen and awkward and shy and quiet, and at that birthday party where she’d decided to wear the damn bikini, she hadn’t missed Reid flirting shamelessly with the female bartender. While he’d ordered a beer, Drew had sipped on mocktails without a drop of alcohol. It’d been a good reminder of the gaps between them—not only the handful of years separating their ages but also of his class and stature. Of his sheer beauty and her averageness. Like a great sequoia next to a plain maple tree, anyone could see how different they were.
Tonight, she’d prove to herself she was worthy of the great Reid Singleton.
“I’ve been ready longer than you know,” she said. His hair was thick and soft against her fingers. He smiled, his lips damp from kissing