Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat 1)

The touching started out innocently enough. He took my hand, and then I put my hand on his stomach. His rock hard stomach that literally rippled with muscle underneath my palm. Touching him made me burn with longing.

Him touching me pushed me over the edge. Having those big, capable hands on me made me lose my fucking mind.

So did his dancing. He was confident. But he could still laugh at himself. Still shimmy his cute little butt while singing Kenny Rogers at the top of his lungs.

I’m beginning to think there’s nothing the man can’t do.

I am hyperaware of his presence behind me. The rain, cool and insistent, does nothing to soothe the heat running just inside my skin.

My ribs ache from laughing. I had so much fun tonight with Eli. I loved the dancing, sure. But it was also cool meeting his friend Luke and running into Grace.

Speaking of Grace—I caught a glimpse of her at the bar as we were leaving. She was with some guy—it wasn’t Luke—and she looked pretty miserable with him. Until Eli was waving at her, and then she managed a smile. It’s clear the two of them are close. I like that. It’s sweet.

Sweet and sexy. Eli in a nutshell.

I feel my heartbeat in my lips. They are tingly. Heavy. Full of blood and longing.

I have to make my choice already. I can’t keep hurting Eli. Leading him on like this.

He catches up to me. He pulls at my elbow, slowing us both down. His fingers move down my forearm, capturing my hand.

I glance at him. He runs his other hand through his hair, coaxing the wet strands away from his face. I get that funny feeling again. The one I got over and over again on the dance floor. That weak-in-the-knees feeling of joy, just being with him. Just being myself, dancing and singing and smiling like an idiot.

He’s unapologetically ardent in everything he does. He’s not afraid of his heart. His body. Clearly he hasn’t divorced them from his life in the name of having it all.

He made them his life.

Do I have the courage to do the same? Because damn does he make it look good.

Not effortless.

Not easy.

But good.

Then again, what if this is just momentary insanity? Who wouldn’t be seduced by everything this sexy southern chef represents? Everything he does?

And as delicious as this world is, am I really ready to leave everything I have with Ted behind?

Bottom line: how can I trust myself to make the right choice when I may have been making wrong ones all along?

The questions flit through my head, somehow only heightening the potent want coursing through me.

“This way,” Eli says, pointing to Longitude Lane.

“I know,” I reply.

He turns his head to look at me. “You’re learning the neighborhood.”

“I am,” I say proudly. “I’ve had a lot of fun exploring over the past week. Charleston’s such a cool place.”

He’s still looking at me. The laughter is gone from his eyes now.

“I love that you love it.”

The way his eyes search mine turns my heart upside-down.

We turn onto Longitude Lane. The rain is really coming down now. Eli’s shirt is plastered to his chest and arms.

A stab of desire hits me right in the middle of my chest and lands in my clit.

It’s so potent and I’m so overwhelmed by it that I have to drop his hand. I’m worried I’ll spontaneously combust. I start to jog ahead of Eli. Jog to the carriage house and up the stairs.

My heart does a somersault when I hear Eli’s footsteps thudding on the treads behind me.

“Gotta make sure you get in okay,” he explains.

My pulse pounds low in my belly.

The laughter and the heat of the moments before turns to anticipation. Lust. Longing like I’ve never experienced before.

I want him to come inside. My God, do I want that, more than anything. My body is on fire. The flames inside my skin lick higher when I imagine the solid weight of his body pressing me into the mattress, those pouty lips of his on mine, teasing, pulling, moving down my chest to my breasts.

But there will be no turning back if I invite him in. Eli is forbidden fruit. Touch him, and I’ll be eating from the tree of knowledge.

And we all know how that turned out for Eve.

Will it turn out the same for me? An unmitigated disaster that ends in his disgrace and my fall?

Eli has never been anything but patient and courteous and cute with me. But just the fact that he’s here—his presence—it’s pushing me up against all these questions I have, forcing me to confront them.

Forcing me to pick a side.

He’s got me cornered, he’s got me up against a wall, and that terrifies me and turns me on and makes me want to cry.