by Elle Berlin
“You’re a heathen, Arie!”
“Nope,” she shakes her head. “He’s the heathen. The heathen that wants to give you a long bliss-filled night of multiple O’s.”
I look away from her, heat tickling up my neck. “He’s not—”
“Oh, yes he is,” she insists.
“You haven’t even met him yet.”
“I don’t have to! You said he was looking for me, right?” I nod, knowing where she’s going with this. “Good, so I don’t need to meet him to know what’s on his mind.”
“That’s my point! You know how to handle all of this. I’m just—”
“Waiting for the fairytale romance,” Arie interrupts. “I know. I get it. But here’s the thing: sometimes it’s nice to just get laid—no strings attached, no expectations. And he’s Desmond Pike, so he’s probably shooting some film and will be gone in a week. So, live a little for once in your life!”
Her words hit something buried deep inside my ribs, the scared little kid, the one who’s always walked in Arie’s shadow. I’ve always watched my sister be larger than life, successful, gorgeous, wild. The fear that’s creeping up my spine is a gut reaction, a comfort I like to crawl back into, a cocoon of ease and safety that’s always whispering: You’re not your sister. You’d never get away with this. You’ll make a fool of yourself. But what if … what if I could get over myself for one night? What if romance and courtship didn’t have to be the end-all-be-all? What if I could have one fun tumble with a hot television star? I’m young. I’m single. What the hell is my hang up?
“Yes, that! Right there!” Arie is pointing at my face. “Right there, that glimmer. That’s the confident Esme I’m talking about. She’s in there. Now step out of that shell and promise me you’re going to rock him!” She makes a lewd gesture with her hips that almost makes me bail. “Nope! No, no,” Arie scolds, grabbing my elbow and moving us closer to Desmond’s booth. “You need to be reciting, ‘I’m a sex goddess. I’m going to rock his cock like he’s never known before. I’m going to try every position in the Kama Sutra. I’m a—’”
“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” I shoot back and she laughs.
“No, but I will make you a deal.” Arie turns to me again, right before the corner to the secluded section Desmond’s sitting in. “If you’re correct and he was completely appalled by how you acted and he ran out the back door, then I promise to watch all of Downton Abbey with you, no questions asked. Even though I know the show will be boring as hell.”
“It’s a great show,” I counter. “You’re going to fall in love with Lady Mary and—”
“If he’s bailed,” Arie interrupts, “then you can speech me all you want about Lady Whoever. But—” she raises a finger “—if he is still here—which trust me, he is—then you’re going to do exactly as I say. Capisce?”
I frown at her. An ultimatum from Arie never ends well, especially after a lecture on how easy it should be for me to snag any guy and magically produce a blissed-out multiple orgasmic night. It’s not like I haven’t tried, it’s just hard for me let down my guard and relax. In fact, I’ve never really had a good orgasm—to which I’m sure Arie would disown me and have our DNA checked, because clearly we couldn’t possibly be of the same bloodline. Not to say I haven’t come before, it’s just … it’s always been best when I’m alone, lame as that sounds.
“Capisce?” Arie asks again, and I nod against my better judgement.
“Fine. But when this turns out—”
“To be the best decision of your life.” Arie smiles devilishly. “Then yes, yes you can absolutely thank me over and over again. Now play it cool!” She moves us toward the hidden booth. “If you play this right, you won’t be watching Billionaire Heat, you’ll be living it.”
The heat between my legs throbs greedily like that was the best news it’s heard in a long time, and despite all my reservations, I kind of hope Arie’s the type of crazy that might actually deliver. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that one-hundred-percent without-a-doubt, all of Arie’s hare-brained ideas (especially those including me and men) have always turned into a complete disaster.
This is about to turn into a shit show.
Can Esme find the confidence to rock movie star Desmond Pike’s world?
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Dirty Martini
Read about the hot night that started it all …
Something—or someone—had to inspire hot-headed chef Arie Noel to open the sexiest restaurant in Waikiki. That someone is Xander Carlisle.
Romantic, gorgeous, and the trendiest new chef in London, Xander is American girl catnip. But to Arie, he’s just an old friend from culinary school; he’s definitely not “the one who got away.” Even though she’s spent hours fantasizing about how he might crème her brûlée.
When Xander invites Arie to cook for him, she doesn’t want to admit that she just got fired. She can’t seem to work in anyone’s kitchen—especially a man’s kitchen—without turning it into a flaming temple of mayhem. Arie desperately wants to impress her friend, but his flirty glances hint that more is on the line than her cooking reputation.
Tonight might inspire something they’ve both been avoiding since college … and it starts with the perfect dessert.
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About the Author
Elle Berlin is the author of steamy contemporary romance novels that will make you laugh out loud.
Elle has a background in screenwriting and design, and is an amateur baker. She’s a sucker for romantic comedies—especially ones with lots of kissing and witty banter. A true foodie, Elle will seek out exotic off-menu delicacies and walk the extra block to the bar that has star anise in its cocktails. Inspired by exotic locations, delicious food, and contemporary art, Elle hopes to make the world a little more decadent one sexy book at a time.
When she isn’t writing spicy stories, you can find Elle oil painting, reading in her hammock, sipping wine, baking macarons, or rose gardening (even though she has a black thumb and half of her plants end up dead).
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Also by Elle Berlin
Heat Series
High-Rise Heat
Tropical Heat (coming in 2021)
Flambé Series
Dirty Martini (a Flambé prequel)
Flambé
Whiskey Splash
Café Diablo (coming in 2021)