Some chefs didn’t like watching people eat their food. They feared the raw reaction. Not me. I loved watching that first bite. In my early days at culinary school, I’d learned from expressions, both good and bad. Except I should have looked away. Memphis moaned. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Any other person and I’d give myself a pat on the back and take it as a job well done. With Memphis, my heart thumped and a surge of blood raced to my groin. Watching her eat was erotic.
