A wide grin rips across Ted’s face. “More than well, mate. Bloody brilliant. Everything from the starters to the mains to the dessert was a hit.” He turns to me. “Nikki, remind me to get that turon recipe from you. You gave multiple mouth-orgasms tonight with that one.”

I cup my cheeks in my palms to keep the blushing at bay.

“Is it really just bananas, brown sugar, and lumpia wrapper?” Ted asks.

“Yes, but it’s fried, and that’s what makes it.”

Ted raves about the tempura crust on the fish, then whips out a room key card from his inside jacket pocket. “And this is my way of saying thank you. The most luxurious bungalow on the resort property, free of charge for you two tonight.” He pats the key into Callum’s hand, then winks at us. “Have fun.”

Ted whips out his phone before hollering “Happy Easter” at us and waltzing out the door.

My eyes cut to Callum, who immediately puts his hand up in surrender. “I didn’t say a word to him about us, I swear.”

I press my lips together to muffle the squeal aching to let loose. I’ve never, ever stayed in a resort this luxurious before, and tonight I get to enjoy it on the house, with Callum.

“I don’t even care. We get to stay at a luxury resort tonight. For free. I’m pumped.”

Callum leans his mouth to my ear. His lips barely graze my skin, but I still shiver. It’s a whisper of a kiss but just as hot as everything else he’s ever done to my body. This is a whole new level of arousal.

“How about we go play dirty, Nikki?”

My eyes flutter and a moan rips from my throat. “Yes, please.”

We do the world’s fastest cleanup of the kitchen, thank the staff and servers for their hard work, throw our chef jackets in the dirty laundry bin, then slip out to be as discreet as possible.

The roar of conversation and elevator music wafting from the dining room drifts all the way down to our end of the hallway.

Callum touches my arm mid-step. “Bollocks, I forgot my phone.”

I grip his wrist, pulling him down to me. “Hurry back. We’ve got some dirty business to take care of, remember?”

I leave him with a chaste peck on the lips, but my stare combined with my firm grip on his body give away just how eager I am to get filthy.

A mischievous gleam shines behind those hazel eyes. He practically sprints back into the kitchen. I lean against the wall to check my phone and see a text from Mom.

Hi, anak! How was your friend’s dinner?