Page 50 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

“So did I.”

“I don’t want it to end.”

That was when I knew I was in real trouble. Because I didn’t want it to end either.

When she kissed me, I was ready for it. My hands found her waist under the water, pulling her around to straddle me. Her arms came up around my neck. This kiss was different from the one on the street corner. It was urgent. Desperate.

She tasted like champagne and that amazing dessert she’d made. When she made a small sound against my lips, I lost what remained of my self-control. My hands moved up her back, tracing the line of her spine. She arched into the touch, pushing her breasts against my chest through the lacy fabric covering those amazing tits.

The hot tub suddenly felt like the most dangerous place in the world. Her skin rubbed against mine. When her hands tangled in my hair and she pressed closer, I forgot every reason why this was a bad idea.

I trailed kisses down her neck and then ran my tongue across over her earlobe. She shivered at the contact, her breath catching in a way that made me want to explore every sensitive spot on her body.

I could feel her pulse racing beneath my lips as I kissed along her throat, tasting chlorine and that familiar vanilla and cherry scent that clung to her. Her hands roamed across my chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle and the tattoos that decorated my torso.

Every touch sent fire through my veins. When her nails lightly scraped across my skin, I groaned against her neck.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” I murmured, my voice barely recognizable.

She pulled back to look at me, her green eyes dark with desire. “Good,” she whispered, before claiming my mouth again.

This kiss was hungrier than before, all pretense abandoned. Her tongue swept against mine as she pressed closer. She rubbed herself against my aching cock.

It would be so easy to jerk her panties off and bury myself inside her. Two seconds tops. One flick of the wrist.

But then reality came crashing back in.

What the hell was I doing?

I pulled back, my hands falling away from her body like I had been burned. “We can’t do this.”

“What?”

“This.” I gestured between us, hating how her expression was already shifting from desire to hurt. “We can’t. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I gently removed her from my lap and moved away from her.

“It wouldn’t be a good look,” I said finally, settling on the explanation that felt most true. “An older chef hooking up with the young woman on his tour? I would be just like Hwan.”

“You are nothing like Hwan. Nothing. He’s a predator who uses his position to manipulate young women. This isn’t manipulation, Rhett. This is two adults who want each other.”

“Two adults with a significant power imbalance,” I countered. “Two adults where one is considerably older and more experienced than the other.”

“I’m not some naive little girl who doesn’t know her own mind,” she said. I heard the anger in her tone. And dammit, it was hot. I liked her angry. “I’m twenty-four years old, I have a culinary degree, and I’ve been working in kitchens since I was sixteen. Don’t you dare patronize me.”

Twenty-four. Ten years younger than me. It was still complicated.

“It’s not about patronizing you,” I said. “It’s about being smart. About protecting both our careers.”

“Protecting our careers, or protecting yourself?”

“I think we’ve both had too much to drink tonight. We should call it an evening.”

I climbed out of the hot tub without waiting for her response.

“You’re right,” she said quietly from behind me. “We have had too much to drink. Clearly I was mistaken about what was happening here.”