Page 61 of Fever

The chef’s eyes rose with elation, and I looked on quizzically.

“If you’ll follow me, I have the perfect seats for you to enjoy this rendition of a meal.”

Josiah stood to his feet and helped me to mine. We followed the chef through the restaurant, and I could feel the heat from Josiah’s hand sitting at the small of my back. Curious eyes stared at us as we made our way through. This upscale restaurant was no stranger to famous faces, but still, I caught a few pictures snap at us as we moseyed through. The chef pulled up to an open grill much like the one I’d seen in Montego Bay and sat us at a table attached to the lining of it.

I looked at Josiah. “So, this is where they hide the jewels of the city,” I said.

Josiah gave me a devilish grin, “Not all jewels,” he responded, pulling my seat out. I sat and got comfortable while Josiah took his place. The chef stood in front of us and with a sprinkle of oil, the grill flamed and a fire held with an orange glow. I smiled and crossed my legs. Josiah pulled me close and my back settled into the firmness of his chest. We lounged and watched the chef cook up a meal with a spirited performance.

“I never knew watching someone cook could be so entertaining,” I said.

“You like?”

“I do.”

I cocked my head to the side and peered up at him. His lips were divine, smooth and inviting. They hovered slightly above my cheek, and a blush warmed me over. A second passed, and Josiah leaned into me, placing a warm kiss on my face. My eyes closed and I exhaled and shivered at the warmth trickling over my skin.

“I missed you,” I said, surprising myself.

Josiah pulled his arm forward and threaded our fingers together as he kept the other arm leisurely laying across my shoulders.

“I missed you, too.” His lips touched my face with a brush, and his nose nudged against my skin. The vibrations around us were so strong that sitting next to him felt like riding a rollercoaster. An exhilarating thrill. As the fire rose from the grill, I turned completely to face him, and with no more words spoken between us, we kissed. Slow and elaborate. Then fierce and urgent. For what felt like minutes we kissed, re-exploring each other’s mouths before I had a notion to tear my mouth away from his. With heavy lids, Josiah gazed at me then licked his lips as if getting the remainder of my kiss in his mouth. I tried with ease to calm my labored breaths and inched away from him, resting a hand on his chest.

“I think we forgot we were in public,” I said, attempting to make a joke.

“We’re secluded back here.”

I glanced around at other couples, some within possible earshot and quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Secluded?”

He smiled. “Somewhat.” His stare went to my mouth, and it was doing crazy things to my body. I was as hot as the fire in front of us, and I wished I had one of those church fans to pull out for a quick rush of wind.

The chef put the last touches on our dish and sat them around us in a grand presentation. “That was beautiful,” I said complimenting the chef for his production.

“Thank you, mademoiselle. Do you have everything you need?”

I glanced at Josiah, and he grinned and looked to the Chef, “We do. Thank you, sir.” The men shook hands.

“I’ll be back to check on you two in a minute.”

“Take your time,” Josiah said.

Josiah slipped his hand in mine. “Shall we pray?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

We bowed our heads, and Josiah gave thanks over our food. Hearing him talk to the Lord even in a simple prayer warmed my heart. I wondered if he talked to his mom this way, and I realized I wanted to know more about where he went when he was inside his head.

“Amen,” we said together. As our heads lifted, we stared at each other, and I let out a soft giggle.

“I want to propose a toast,” Josiah said, raising a glass of champagne. I reached for my glass and held it up. “To you, Santana. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and the most down to earth woman I’ve ever known. You should get an award for being you. Congratulations on getting a position at the Chicago Chronicle. You deserve it, and I’m proud to call you my love.”

A surge of heat, thick and glazed, coasted over my skin. Our glasses clinked as I tried to comprehend his words. I sipped slowly while I thoughtfully engaged in a battle in my mind. Was he serious or was he putting on a show? After taking a drink, Josiah sat his glass down and reached for a shrimp kabob and fed me. I ate unhurriedly, and our table grew quiet as we sought nourishment. My appetite had gone past needing the physical sustenance but now more than anything; I wanted him in every way there was to have a person.

As my mind wandered, I found myself watching him eat, paying attention to every bite, lick, and stretch of his masculine jaw. I was paralyzed. Absorbed in the provocative way he enjoyed his meal while wishing it was me instead. It turned me on, every time the thick fringe of his lashes lifted to find me staring. How he deliberately coated his lips with his tongue only to pull another bite to his mouth for a taste. His capturing stare stroked me with a current of heat that made my hands rush to my shirt and pop open a button only to find that I was indeed wearing a dress. My skin roasted as his eyes swept over me and his pupils darkened when they made it to my breasts. When he spoke, I only saw his lips move.

“Full?”

I couldn’t find my voice. Had no idea where it went. I reached for a glass of water and took a needy sip then cleared my throat.

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