His Personal Chef Ch. 01

Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at writing. I really hope you enjoy (please leave a comment and vote so I know what to work on and if you genuinely enjoyed). More chapters on the way.

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The sizzle of the vegetables in the pan was like an orchestra to my ears. I shook the pan a few times and added a sprinkle of salt and pepper. He has a pretty simple palate but that doesn't mean I couldn't work with it.

I glanced up from the stove to the living room. If anyone had a dream to have an apartment in the city, this would be the place they dreamt of. The furniture was a spitting image of a modern sanctuary. All the furniture was in black and white, not even a single shade of grey in sight.

Well, except for him standing out on the balcony.

He was wearing his usual dark grey suit and polished black shoes. As if on cue, he turned around and caught me looking at him. He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and for a moment I was almost jealous of a mug.

I've been working as his personal chef for over a year now. When Mark first hired me, he told me it was for my looks alone. I wasn't surprised that the city's hottest bachelor and playboy had been so blunt. I'm not anything special but I like to think that I had a chance if I wanted to snatch him up.

My 5'3 height was nothing close to his towering 6'5. I wasn't skinny like those models he brought back to his place but at least I had curves in all the right places. I try to fit some gym time which, thankfully, has rewarded me with a nice, perky ass that complimented my C cup breasts. My chestnut-colored hair fell in waves down to my mid-back which I wore up in a bun when I cook.

I had told him he was being quite unprofessional and threatened to quit after the first day. The only thing that had him begging me to stay was the first bite of food he had tried.

The sliding of the balcony door snapped me out of that memory and towards the vegetables cooking in the pan. I grabbed a lemon from a bowl nearby and squeezed some juice into the pan to zest up the dish.

"That smells incredible." His voice sounded like a hot knife cutting through butter. If velvet could talk, it would be with that voice.

"Thank you. I added a dash of lemon in there since you liked last night's lemon chicken so much." I said. I continued looking at the cooking vegetables, not trusting myself to look up at him. I cracked three eggs into a bowl and started whisking.

He set the cup of coffee on the counter opposite the stove. I spared a glance at him and regretted it immediately His perfect sleeked-back brown hair opened up his face to reveal those piercing blue eyes. His clean-shaven face highlighted his strong jawline that could probably cut a diamond. The suit fit him well enough but his well-defined muscles threatened to burst out of the material.

The smirk on his face was enough to tell me that he had caught me staring.

"I hope you're making enough for two," Mark said leaning forward on the counter. Even while leaning, he easily towered over my short self. It's a miracle I can even reach the stove without standing on my tippy toes.

"Oh, are you having one of your lady friends come over?" I asked, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"No. They usually come for dinner, not breakfast." He gave me a wink. This time I allowed myself to roll my eyes at him as I poured the egg mixture into the pan of vegetables.

His eyes never left me, watching my every move. I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, very aware of the pool forming between my legs. I took a shaky breath and continued scrambling the eggs in the pan.

"I'm serious, why don't you eat with me? You haven't had breakfast." Mark said, making his way over to me.

I tried to ease the pounding in my chest as the scent of his expensive designer cologne filled my nose.

"It-It's unprofessional." My voice gave away my nerves and I almost cursed myself. His deep chuckle shook me to my core as he took a few steps closer to me. He could probably smell the arousal coming off of me.

"That's funny. I remember hearing those exact words coming out of those lips before." He reached for my face and moved a single loose strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his hand made my heart skip a beat. I took a few steps back just to feel the cold fridge press behind me; thankful for cooling off the burning heat of her body.

He continued towards me as he placed both hands on either side of my head. "Who's going to know that it's unprofessional?" He said, leaning into my ear. I tried my best not to shake from the proximity of his lips to my ear. He was standing so close I swore I could feel something hard against my hip.

"You're your own boss; you're not going to fire yourself." He moved his mouth lower until his lips were barely grazing my neck, sending sparks down my body. I forgot how to move or speak. He retreated slightly until he could look directly into my eyes.

"What do you say?" He asked in a hushed voice. My eyes darted from his lips to his eyes.

I let out a small whimper as I purposely grazed his growing bulge with my hip.

That was all he needed as an answer.