Killer Abs - C.M. Steele Page 0,3

Beautiful but a real cunt. I don’t think it’s smart to bring her in here. It would be a shame to have to pop her if she got a mouth on her or decided to flip on us.”

I didn’t know why I was bothered that he thought she was beautiful and then called her names. I’d never met this woman before, so my need to defend her made no sense to me. It wasn’t like I ever gave a woman more attention than necessary, and I was most definitely not the jealous kind.

Bristling, I said, “First that’s not your concern, Igor. Second, Andretti wouldn’t have sent her if he wasn’t sure she’d be good for the job. Now, I expect the menu to be good tonight for our guests. It’s going to be their last week in America, after all, and I want them pleased.”

I’d known DiMarco for twenty years, and he’d brought his wife with him on their honeymoon trip through the US. This was their last stop before needing to head back to Naples.

“I informed her, and she will have it ready in two hours. Nina will bring it to you as requested.” Nina was the housekeeper who’d been with me for ten years. She was a grumpy old woman that normally would have been fired but did her job without question. I’d have her cook if she could, but not all women were blessed with the gift of cooking.

“Good.” I prepared for my conference call with an investor in real estate. I’d made very lucrative deals with the right people—even if they were not always on the legal end of the law.

After the brief call, Igor knocked on my door and said, “Boss, the little tart would like to know what you would prefer for dessert. She has three options.”

I raised my hand to silence whatever he’d say next. Annoyed that he brought up the chef again in such a vulgar way, I remarked, “Tell her to prepare all three, and I will take a taste of all of them before dinner.”

Fucking hell. What was so damn hard about preparing dinner? If she’d worked at the restaurant all this time, I’d more than likely tasted everything she’d made at one point or another. Unless she knew damn well who she was serving and was nervous.

“Yes, boss.” He left, and I had a strange feeling about the new chef. Since when did Igor intentionally go out of his way to help the staff to please me? Was he seeing her on the side when he was supposed to be picking up my orders?

He often complained that he didn’t trust them and would sit and watch the meal be prepared, so it only made me wonder if there was a history between them.

I had to check this chef out myself. Something about her caused Igor to be extra attentive, and that bothered me more than anything. I’d already started to feel that he’d worn out his welcome and that his usefulness had faded. Maybe I’d send him back to Russia in an urn.

Waiting a few minutes, I stepped out of my office and made my way down to the kitchen. I’d hardly ever gone in there, but the second I opened the door, I understood why Igor had to be checking in on her all the time. Standing there, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, was a perfect doll made just for me.

My entrance had been so quiet that she hadn’t heard me enter. I stood there, stealing the opportunity to watch her work. Long blonde hair pinned back into a large messy bun with a few loose strands falling around her face sent a heated longing through me that I couldn’t explain.

Her hands were kneading dough with such a great deal of effort that she bit on her bottom lip to concentrate. My dick jumped in my slacks for the first time in forever as I pictured her riding me with her hands pressed on my chest, working her orgasm out on my cock.

The sudden urge to dominate her overwhelmed me. I’d never caved to lust like a simpering fool and yet, I wanted to possess this woman in every way, forgetting about dinner.

I wanted to slide up behind her and taste her neck before unpinning her hair and watching it cascade down her back. My soul ached to yank her pants down, tease her from behind, and then take her hard and fast as