Page 13 of Get Lost

One of them was pressed against her ass.

Again.

Shamelessly.

She owed the crew a raise after this because none of her team paid her any attention as this sexy chef damn near seduced her right here in the middle of the busy kitchen, and she was thankful that she had yet to catch anyone’s questioning glances. They’d worked enough high-profile events to know how to keep their heads down, but Kelsey would surely hear about this later because the rule didn’t really apply to her as she was not a paying client with a big name and a large public following. Plus, just because her crew pretended they didn’t “see” that B-list actor with his hands in the wrong cookie jar, or that record producer with a woman on his lap that wasn’t his wife, didn’t mean they didn’t know it was happening.

So Kelsey was surely going to get shit from someone about this later.

Which meant she had to get away from this French pastry chef with the accent that could melt butter and the erection that put many a French baguette to shame.

Jean-Luc reached past her, dragging his finger through the leftover custard in a large metal bowl, then brought his fingertip to her lips. “Goûtez ceci,” he whispered in her ear.

She opened her mouth and he slid his finger inside, coating her tongue with the sweetest vanilla custard she’d ever tasted. She closed her mouth around his finger and he moaned quietly in her ear. Kelsey’s eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself this brief moment to flirt with the ultimate temptation, then she sucked his finger clean, released it, and turned slowly in the cage of his arms.

His eyes heavily-lidded, desire a bright flame in his dark irises, he smiled slowly. “Bon?”

Yes. Bon! Bon! Bonnnnnnn!

She inhaled a deep breath, licked her lips, then placed her hands on his hard chest and pushed him away from her. “Yes. Very good.” She shook her head. “But this?” She motioned between the two of them. “Notbon.”

He smirked, but before she could question what about this was so funny—she was smart enough to know when she flew way too close to the flame—she stepped away from him and hurried out of the kitchen, gasping for fresh air as soon as she reached the outside patio.

Holy shit. If she allowed him to, that man could demolish everything she’d worked for with one flick of his accented tongue.

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