Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen)

chapter Eighteen


This hotel suite is too bloody small, Jack decided.

And there was nothing on TV. A Kilroy’s Kitchen episode sighting resulted in a resounding strike of the Off button on the remote. At the moment, he couldn’t stand his real self, never mind that impostor on the small screen.

Since stalking out of DeLuca’s a couple of hours ago, he’d fought an internal battle, trying to push from his memory Lili’s injured expression when he’d laid out his indictment of the DeLucas. Either she was good enough to give Meryl Streep a run for her Oscars or he’d got it so wrong he had destroyed everything.

But damn, he wasn’t wrong. A mistake, she’d said about her family’s cheatin’ ways. Sure was. One big mistake, yet somehow he was the one left feeling like shit. That kind of math made no sense. Not getting laid for months, that was the kind of math he understood because when you haven’t had sex for an eternity, it blocks up your brain. Lili was the first woman to spark his interest since he’d started this ludicrous sex fast, and he had let her burrow under his skin.

No.

More.

He should watch porn. That’d teach her. But even though he’d demanded the indiscreet, snap-happy employee who had uploaded photos of his breakfast banquet be gifted his pink slip, Jack still couldn’t be sure that tasty morsel wouldn’t get passed on to the press. Jack Kilroy watched Busty Babes of Baja Beach. Twice! Anyway, who needed porn when his brain was jam-packed with one gorgeous Italian girl wearing a come-hither smile that guaranteed a permanent hard-on? Oh, and he was clearly a masochist because the object of his obsession didn’t just despise him—she’d flat-out used him. Just like Ashley with her tell-all. Just like John Sullivan with his upturned palm. Those heart-crushing disappointments should have taught him to calibrate his hopes.

But she sacked Gina.

Big deal. She protected Marco. No doubt she was enjoying the comfort of his Armani-suited arms right this minute.

Arms you drove her into.

Didn’t have far to go, though, did she? She had run to that rat-tailed d-bag when her mother was ill and now…now he needed to drown his chatty conscience in a vat of scotch before he did something stupid like race to her apartment and sing to her. Maybe something from Les Misérables this time.

His skin felt like he’d peeled back three layers to the blood-saturated sinew underneath and scoured it with bleach. In his mind’s playback of the night, every word, gesture, and nuance stroked him raw. Had he screwed up? If he had, it wouldn’t be the first time. Jules leaped to the forefront of his guilt-ridden mind. Always Jules, with his mother’s eyes drowning in accusation.

Only one time had his stepfather brought him to visit her in that run-down hospital, the walls and people worn and sagging like something out of a Dickens novel, the stench of disinfectant doing a miserable job of masking the cloying smell of sickness. Angry with her for some childish reason he could no longer recall, he had refused her pleas to hug him. At twelve, he was too old for maternal affection, too self-absorbed to care for her needs. If he had known it was the last time he would see her, he’d have clasped her frail, cancer-ravaged body to his until they pried him away screaming.

Look after your sister, Jack, she had said in her soft Irish burr to his retreating back. When his stepfather passed a couple of years later, Jack still had some fuzzy notion of becoming Jules’s guardian once he was of age, but he’d had things to do. Trouble to find and a life to plan when trouble found him. The new freedom he felt in the kitchen had trumped duty and a mother’s wish. Wasn’t he doing his sister a favor by putting her in a two-parent home with Pete and Daisy? His peripatetic lifestyle couldn’t be adapted to the needs of a kid.

Now Jules was here to cash in on all those broken promises and she’d come armed with a doozy. He had felt so useless until Lili stepped in. Calm, competent, no-fuss Lili with her sultry voice set to salve. A woman who knew the meaning of family and could help translate the code. With her, he felt like he could be a better chef, a better brother, a better man. Just better.

Yeah, she knew the meaning of family all right. She would cheat and lie and use for them. And his nitpicking conscience answered, What about Gina, idiot?

Two a.m. in the middle of a vibrant, cosmopolitan city. There must be a bar open nearby, something seedy that might turn the boiling self-recrimination in his belly to a surly simmer. He dragged himself off the sofa, wrenched open the door, and got the surprise of his life.

Lili.

One hand clutched her scooter helmet beneath her heaving breasts like a talisman, the other paused in midknock. The forbidding set of her full, lush mouth signaled purpose, and combined with her cotton-cloud hair and orange flip-flops, it made her look like a fiery goddess. Her eyes blazed volcanic, sending trails of lava through him that blew hotter than the ninety-five-degree air outside.

Hungrily, he surveyed the rest of her. A turquoise bra strap drooped off her shoulder, a clashing contrast to the yellow sundress that hugged her curves and revealed about ten inches of glorious thigh. As usual, gazing on her legs inevitably led to how they were attached to her other luscious body parts, firing his body like a kiln from the inside out. But flip-flops? They seemed like the least appropriate footwear for riding a scooter. Maybe she should wear a sweater in case she caught a cold.

Stop worrying about her, you moron. Because she was clearly capable of taking care of number one.

His hazy focus trickled upward, giving way to a chest pang with a revisit to her face. No more thunder, just her heart, big and beating in her eyes. She bit down on her lip, a move he knew she didn’t intend as erotic but that registered as unbearably so.

“Lili—” The words clotted in his throat. Never tongue-tied, he always knew what to say. His hands were his tools, but words came a close second. He was British, for Chrissake.

Finally he managed, “Why are you here?”

“Because I need to fulfill my quota of Brit-accented insults.” She jabbed her helmet into his chest. Hard. “Why do you think I’m here? You got your divo on and accused me of some pretty heinous crimes. We need to sort this out.”

“There’s nothing to sort out. You used me. End of.” He clenched his teeth so hard he risked grinding them to bony fragments. Less than twenty feet away, a well-dressed couple stood by the elevator, craning their heads, looking suspiciously like opera lovers. It would be all over the hotel, or worse, in minutes.

He yanked her inside and slammed the door. For privacy, he told himself. But now she was close enough to taste, both of them trapped in the small entry about two feet apart. Since meeting her, he’d fooled himself into thinking his body was the traitor, which he now knew to be a blatant fallacy. All the treachery could be laid squarely at the door of his mind. The mind that wanted a woman who didn’t want him.

“You took Marco’s side. He put up that video and he’s guilty of God knows what else.”

“You don’t know he’s behind that.” She didn’t sound convinced. “The salting, yes, but—”

“Still defending him, I see. Still madly in love.”

“I’m not in love with him,” she said, her voice louder, clearer. “I don’t think I ever was. Not really.”

Relief bubbled through his veins but it couldn’t quite overtake the nice head of righteous anger he’d worked up. “Tell that to him. The way he looks at you—”

“I can’t help how he looks at me,” she said before adding softly, “How does he look at me?”

“Like he can think of nothing but stripping you and stroking your skin. Exploring your body. Making you his.”

Hands trembling, she folded her arms beneath her breasts. Good to know he wasn’t the only one having trouble keeping it together.

“That’s not how he looks at me. That’s how you look at me.”

His body caved with the weight of her accusation. The undeniable rightness of it. Her eyes bored into him, broadcasting her need, dragging him in.

“I wasn’t working with him,” she said. “I swear I had no idea what he or Gina were up to, and as soon as I found out, I stopped it. I was coming to tell you when your sister showed up and everything went—”

“Pear-shaped?” he finished on a sigh.

She nodded. “It might have looked like I took his side but I was worried you were going to go all ultimate fighter and drop-kick him into the middle of the next millennium.”

A conclusion that was fairly well founded. Deep down, he knew what she said was true and damn if he didn’t hate when unassailable logic butted up against his more visceral impulses.

“I know that the life you lead means you have a hard time trusting people, Jack. Half the world wants to sleep with you and the other half wants to be you. You’re richer than God, ten times as arrogant, and everyone wants a piece. But I don’t care about any of that. I’m not interested in what I can get out of you, Jack. I’m only interested in you.”

Her words humbled him. This was Lili, his Lili. The woman who never hesitated to put everyone else’s needs ahead of her own. Who chose him over her family when she sacked Gina. Shit, she had actually done that. Shame eddied through his gut that he could ever have doubted her.

She edged closer and, incrementally, he matched her moves. At this rate, they might be within touching distance by Christmas.

“Do you mean that? You want me…not…” He couldn’t finish for feeling foolish. Not Jack Kilroy, not his image, not that other guy.

“Yes. Just you.” She stretched out her hand. Christmas had come early.

He grasped it for the lifesaving device it was and bound her to him. Her helmet hit the carpet with a soft thud; her arms twined around his waist.

“I know I’ve made mistakes but I’m only human.” Her cheek felt wet against his throat. “And you’re here with your blockbuster chest and your hot mouth and all that terrifying certainty. I don’t want the man I see on billboards and magazine covers and TV. They can have him. I want the man who makes me feel like anything is possible.”

His heart clicked into place like the final puzzle piece. Did she not realize that she already had him?

“Forgive me, Lili. The things I said…I was out of my mind.” He clasped her close, all while murmuring words of affection and apology and biting back the one thing fighting to find voice.

I love you.

He didn’t kiss her yet or scare her, or himself, with crazy declarations of love. Plenty of time for that later. Minutes passed as the tide of their breathing slowed to semi-normal.

“I can’t believe you canned Gina.”

Her eyes welled with tears, crumbling what was left of his internal organs to dust. “It had to be done. Girl was out of control.” Sniffling, she swiped at her cheek. “And I can’t believe you were jealous of Marco.”

Strangely, hearing her acknowledge it relaxed him. “I really should be more evolved than this.”

“The Neanderthal thing works. You’re pretty hot when you get all shouty.”

There she was, his beautiful smart-mouth.

He cupped her cheek and glided his thumb across her quivering bottom lip. That tremble was all the invitation he needed. Their mouths searched and queried, frantic for each other’s attention. All his problems faded away in her kiss. Urging her closer, he pressed the hollow of her back, and her heat seeped through his denim-covered thigh, shiver-shocking him until he forgot his own name.

She pulled away from his hungry mouth long enough to ask, “Jack, are we dating again?”

He parted from her long enough to chuckle at her less-than-subtle plea for sex. “Yes, yes. We’re dating again,” and then it hit him and he detached completely.

“I don’t have condoms.”

He had stopped carrying months ago so he would be more likely to think before he had heedless sex with a production assistant or anyone who fit the bill for a no-strings lay. Could he order condoms through room service? Was that even possible? Of course it wasn’t possible. And if it was, it wasn’t smart. He would have to go out. Leave her again.

Slowly, languidly, she dipped into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a square-shaped, shiny blue wrapper. He almost fell to his knees in supplication at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. After her, of course.

“Hmm, you think one’s going to be enough?”

“A girl who carries more than one risks getting a bad reputation.” With a sensuous slide of her tongue across her bottom lip, she drew out another and held it up with its mate like a winning poker hand. Her hand foraged again and retrieved more, which fell to the floor in a cascade. She had enough condoms to suit up an orgy.

“I lost the other half when the Vespa hit a pothole on Michigan Avenue.”

It took him a full seven seconds to recover.

She covered her mouth like a naughty child, new color brightening her cheeks. She was embarrassed, but in that moment any doubts he’d had about her vanished. Love couldn’t describe what he felt right now. More like ruination.

“You’re pretty confident,” he pushed out, trying to make light, impossible when his heart felt too full for his chest.

Brushing by him into the suite, she slipped a couple of condoms into his pocket. “Just a cock-eyed optimist. I figured after turning me down twice, third time’s the charm.”

That it was. He was the luckiest man alive.

“Lili,” he said, searching for the right words. “Grazie.”

She greeted that with an eyebrow jump. “Show me.”

Peeling off his shirt rendered him blind for a few precious seconds, and when he found light again, she was walking away from him, pulling her dress up over her head. Strip-walking. Jesus, she was strip-walking and how she was able to get that hip sway without heels was doing strange things to his brain.

She turned to present those mouthwatering breasts falling over lacy cups and generous curves filling out underwear that looked like shorts. Speaking of Busty Babes of B—

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, all humor drained from her face.

He tried to catch his breath. “You’re so gorgeous, Lili. Your skin, your breasts, your—”

“Are you just going to stand there talking about me all night?”

He could stand and look at her all day, but his dick wouldn’t be down with that plan. The rush of desire drowned out the thump of his heart. The suite he had thought too small ten minutes ago was suddenly too big, and before she could react, he had hoisted her up so she was curled around his hips.

“Oh,” she gasped. “Jack, you shouldn’t—oh, God, I love how strong you are.”

He pushed through to the lamp-lit bedroom while she pressed her open mouth to his neck and sucked at his pulse, making his skin sizzle. Tossing her onto the bed, he got another approving “oh” while he stood back to assess his options. So inviting, yet he had no idea where to start. He needed more hands, or better yet tentacles. He needed to be Octo-Jack.

Forward momentum met unexpected resistance when she placed her foot flat against his stomach. “Wait,” she said. Standing, she spread her hands over his chest, her touch cool on his scorching skin. “Let me look at you first.”

That was code for slow down. Slow was good. Slow was very good because he was ten miles past desperate here, and if he didn’t ease up to at least five, he was going to make a fool of himself. Avidly, he watched the leisurely but measured path her hands took.

“Do I make the grade?”

“Hmm, B plus.”

“I’m improving,” he said, remembering how she ranked his kissing technique that first night.

She slipped around to his back, the raspy caress of her bra’s lace shooting tingles through him. Her hands appraised lovingly—over his drum-tight skin, circling his shoulder blades, his knotted muscles, trailing fire down to his hips. She ran her fingers to his stomach, tracing the hair above his navel, and it took all his strength not to push them down to his cock.

Crackling-hot kisses dripped down the ladder of his spine, sending every nerve into meltdown. He felt her sigh, a warm flutter as she placed her cheek against his back.

“Jack,” she whispered, scarcely audible above his serrated breathing.

“Yes, Lili?”

“What do you like?”

His skin prickled and his erection bulged hard against his zipper. He needed to free it, but the anticipation was so downright enjoyable and exquisitely painful.

“What do I like?” What did he like? Her. This. Her and this.

She curled back around to stand before him and cleaved her body to his. “Yeah, what you like. Don’t you like certain things?”

The metallic scrape of his descending zipper almost unraveled him. His cock stretched against his boxers, pushing into her belly and willing her to provide the resistance he needed.

“We can get into specifics later. Right now, I just want to slide into you and never leave.”

Her eyes grew wide like what she was seeing wouldn’t fit in them. “I thought you’d want something—” She clamped down on her plump bottom lip.

“Kinky? Not for our first time, sweetheart.” A stray thought needled through his lust haze. “Lili, you know all that online stuff about my sex life was rubbish, right?”

“Sure, I knew that,” she said, sounding a trifle disappointed.

He laughed and kissed her deep. “We’re going to figure this out. What you like. What I like. What we both like. There’s no one else in this room but you and me.” Having to live in the shadow of his tabloid reputation was bad enough; he didn’t need its long fingers in the bedroom. He pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid movement and kicked them off. No slouch, she plunked down on the bed, shucking her panties as she went.

“Wow.” Her eyes widened on seeing his erection, now cocked and aimed right at her mouth. She slanted her head to a couple of different angles. He felt like her next art project or a Playgirl centerfold.

“That’s what I’ve been putting up with since I met you, Lili.”

“Poor Jack,” she murmured as her soft fingers wrapped around him. At the slight touch, he groaned, the satisfaction of her finally holding him saturating his senses. But there was apprehension mixed with the desire. He was nervous, something he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid. She had this surreal effect on him.

“I can’t believe I’m finally getting to touch it,” she whispered in mock awe. “Jack Kilroy’s illustrious member.”

“My what?”

“It’s just that you’ve been so stingy. Not letting me play with it, telling me I had to wait. I assumed it must be gold-plated or bejeweled—”

“You’ve got a cheek,” he spluttered while her hands did wicked, wonderful things.

Her thumb glided along the bulging head, spreading the moisture that had beaded at the tip. She bent forward and delivered a chaste brush of her lips that surprised him so much he jumped, but then she raised those killer blues to him, and chaste was nowhere in evidence. Only naughtiness.

An unhurried glide of that luscious pink tongue across her lips, sheened with his precome, produced a hum of pleasure from deep in her throat. She liked how he tasted and that turned him on so much he started to shake. She was a chef’s wet dream. His wet dream. A woman who enjoyed the salt and the sweet, the taste of his food and the taste of him.

His dick grew an extra couple of inches on the spot.

She fell to her knees and something inside him broke. She could have stayed sitting on the bed but that simple act of kneeling did it for him right there. She owned him now.

Sweet butterfly kisses were the opening course along his thigh; then her tongue licked higher with rich, velvet strokes before she took him in her mouth. Christ Almighty, it was all he could manage not to shoot off like an uncapped blender. A recipe. Run through a recipe. Gougères. Combine butter, milk, salt—

“Lili.” His hands cradled her head, intending to push her back to retain some grip on his sanity. Instead, he held her steady and planted his feet, digging his toes into the soft carpet. Anything to stop from thrusting because if he started, he wouldn’t stop and he needed to last. To make it good for them both. Her mouth, wet and warm, slid along his dick in a delicious rhythm. He swept her riotous hair back so he could get a better view of her lips and cheeks as she sucked. So damn pretty. His balls tightened with every draw but he forced his pleasure deep.

“That’s it, love. Just like that.”

He still couldn’t believe she’d chased him down, that she’d been brave enough to see past his bullshit and meet it head-on. Because let’s face it, a relationship with him was no pleasure trip along the Seine. He didn’t do anything by halves, and he needed a woman who was willing to travel that road with him. A woman who understood that he demanded a similar energy and passion because that was the only way he knew.

It was going to kill him if this wasn’t real.

Real or not, he knew how he wanted their first time to be, and as much as he loved what her mouth was doing, there was no way he was getting off like this. Fully primed and teetering on the edge, he coaxed her head back.

“Sweetheart, I need to be inside you.” He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans.

“Let me.” She took it and encouraged him to lie on his back so she could straddle him. Her assertiveness astonished him, turning his arousal up to a level he didn’t think possible. Any higher and his balls might never recover. Deftly, she rolled on the condom.

“I thought it had been a while,” he said, his tongue thick and rubbery.

“Oh, I’ve been keeping my hand in. Practicing on bananas.”

He laughed loudly, so at odds with what they were doing. Until Lili, he’d never wanted to laugh and f*ck a woman at the same time. That quiet, dry humor of hers gave him as much pleasure as her clever hands and her lush body.

“Take off your bra.”

Eyes never leaving his, she unhooked and released her perfectly sculpted breasts.

“Look at you. So beautiful.” And she was. Achingly so. He ran his hands over her breasts, loving how responsive they were to his touch.

“Oh, Jack,” she murmured with a vulnerability that knocked his heart clear across the room.

He propped up on one elbow and gentled her head toward his. She needed to understand what was happening here even if he hardly understood it himself. “You slay me, Lili DeLuca. Utterly, completely.”

He heard her breath catch in her throat. Tears pooled in her eyes, flecking her lower lashes like diamonds when she blinked, but then she regrouped. Those shiny blues now blazed, fired with desire and longing and maybe some of that confidence he had to spare.

“Jack, I need you.” And with that, she lowered herself onto him slowly, so slowly he feared his brain would melt. He grasped her hips and pulled her down a couple of magnificent inches to the tune of her satisfied sigh.

“Don’t stop,” he said. “Feels so good.”

She took him in a little farther, panting while her body softened and adjusted. His cock thickened beyond what he thought possible and a winding pressure built at its base. Her tight, wet heat wrapped around him. Her fire, her body, his Lili. All wrapped around him.

Anchored to her, he knew that finally he was exactly where he was meant to be.