The arrogant bastard smiles, now inches away.
I gulp, turned on by him, but disturbed. “I’m the new chef. Please tell the owner I’m sorry I’m late.”
“The fuck you’re the chef?”
“Excuse me?” I ask, confused.
“We hired a man called Sam. Not some… hot young girl.”
“Listen, dick, and listen close. I’m a woman, and my name is Sam. As in Samantha. Please, do your job and just lead me to the owner.”
Suddenly, I know I’m screwed. Why? Because the pompous, gorgeous, entitled hunk that fucked me stupid smiles.
He then puts his hands on his slim hips. He is wearing more of those fancy cufflinks, and his pristine pressed white shirt is crisp, tidy, and warm, unlike anything to do with me.
“Madam, I am the owner of every acre of this ten-thousand-acre estate.”
We stare each other out, and it is beyond awkward.
“Well, I have a contract!” I say fast.
“You misled me, Madam!”
I cross my own arms over my now traitorous big nipples. “I have a right to be a woman, and can the kind Sir please note where on my CV it states, 'Has a thick cock?'”
“Do not say thick cock!”
“Thick! Cock,” I say very slowly, with my eyes on his.
I can tell he’s getting hard, and he inhales slowly and long. We are now a foot apart, but I give zero Fs. I am cold and I am pissed.
“Look, here,” he says with his impeccable, stuffy old-money accent. “I ordered a male from the human resources company. I cannot be around women, hot or other. I. Will. Be. Distracted.”
“Noted,” I say again, giving almost zero fucks. “But, Sir, your problem is with the hiring company.”
He steps closer, and I am ready to fight him. The problem is he looks ready to wrestle. It is also starting to feel sexual, as if sparks are firing. I bit my lip, and my clit starts to throb.
As if it remembers him or his voice, or both.
“Don’t bite your lip.”
“I’m not!”
“You are.”
I feel my lips, and I mumble an “Oh.”
I need an exit, and I need it fast. “Anyway, it’s not because of you.” It is a lie. A big, fat lie.
The smug bastard raises a brow. “That thing last night?”
“And this morning,” I say, clarifying.
I hear him groan, and he looks at me with a devilish scowl. “That was a hate fuck.”
He inhales, and I lean in, eyeing him. I lean closer to sense him one last time before I leave. Leave and never come back. My clit throbs, and my body is starting to betray me.
Just when it seems like we are a second away from fighting or fucking, the front door swings open and leaves blast in.
