The Love Of Money - S01 E184

Story 3 months ago

The Love Of Money - S01 E184

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 184

"You know," she finally said. "I don't expect some sort of commitment or even an answer right now. I know you have a lot going on, and there's other women in your life. I just needed you to know how I felt." She cocked her head and gave me a hopeful look. "Can you just think about it?"

"Danni, it's probably the only thing I'm going to be thinking about all day," I said, kissing her fingers again. In return, I received a radiant smile that threatened to blind me.

"That's more like what a girl wants to hear," she said. Then she looked a touch worried. "I hope I haven't ruined your meeting"

"I'll manage," said.

Twenty minutes later, I kissed Danni goodbye at the elevators. As she stepped in and turned around, she gave me a hopeful little smile tinged with a bit of sadness and kept her gaze fixed on me until the doors slid shut. With a deep sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair, tumed, and headed toward the kitchen. I had a lot to think about.

I found Erin sitting at the island in the kitchen with an open laptop and a bowl of assorted fruit. Her slender fingers fished a piece of pineapple from the bowl when she just so happened to look over the screen and spot me. With a twinkle in her dark eyes, she pressed her lips around the chunk of citrus and slowly sucked it into her mouth. Then she took an exaggerated amount of time to suck on her index finger, running her tongue around its tip twice before removing it and grinning at me.

It had the effect she was looking for. I could feel my cock twitch in my pants, but apparently that didn't translate to my face.

Her brow crinkled just above her nose, and she tilted her head to the side inquisitively and asked, "What's up, boss? Something bothering you?"

"Nah," I said as I made my way to the island beside her. "Well, maybe."

I didn't go into it anymore since she wasn't the only one in the kitchen. Another woman wearing tight-fitting jeans was bent over in front of an oven, pulling out a pan of fresh-baked muffins. The smell of sugary bread mixed with a faint hint of banana filled the air, making this place feel slightly more homey than previously.

The muffins weren't the only pretty sight, the chef was too. I was

first introduced to her ass, which was considerable,

complimenting her wide hips. Once she stood up, I could tell her build was more like Jessica's than any other woman in my life, her figure more voluptuous. Unlike Jessica, who had a little extra weight, this woman had a full, shapely physique that looked well cared for. She wore a green short-sleeved shirt tucked into her jeans that displayed a very feminine body with an hourglass shape that did a tremendous job of highlighting beautiful curves.

When she turned to place the muffins on the countertop, two things stood out this woman had massive tits - larger than Jess's. Her neckline swooped low, showing off a Grand Canyon's worth of cleavage, and I had difficulty keeping my eyes off them. They could have easily been double D's or even E-cups. They looked full and healthy, stuffed inside whatever bra she was wearing, and I wanted to dive headfirst into those creamy mammaries and smother myself in them. What a way to go.

When I was finally able to tear my eyes away from her breasts, I noticed the second thing that stood out her face. She was gorgeous, with generous lips, a straight, Roman nose that fit her face perfectly, rosy cheeks that colored a dark cream complexion, and dark, stormy grey eyes. It was framed by a few strands of hair that escaped her caramel-colored bun.

"Hi," I said, steering away from Erin's prying questions, "Tim Marcus." I offered her my hand, and she took it.

"Hello, Mr. Upton," she said. "My name is Camille Dupont. It's lovely to meet you." Her words were accented in French, but not to the point where it took effort to understand. In fact, she spoke English amazingly well.

She extended a hand, and I took it. Her arms and hands declared her profession. Her fingers and palms bore the calluses of her work, but not as many as I'd imagined. Somehow, she managed to keep her hands relatively soft despite the demanding job of a chef. I could see several scars on her arms and hands, cuts and knicks from knives, and burn scars from getting too close to the heat. However, besides the evidence of her profession, her skin was relatively blemish-free. Her fingernails were well cared for - short but smooth.

"You're the new chef?" I asked.

"Oui," she said. "For as long as you like my food, anyway."

"Well," I said, "if it tastes anything like it smells, I'm sure I'll keep you around for a while."

Erin stood up, retrieved a coffee mug from a cabinet, filled it with a fresh cup, and handed it to me. I took a sip and said, "Goddamn, that's a good cup of coffee. What did you do?"

Camille gave me a mysterious smile and said, "Mm-mm, Mr. Upton. You have no reason to keep me if I tell you how I make everything."

Erin said something in what sounded like perfect French that I couldn't understand, and Camille broke out into a full smile, complete with dimples on each cheek, and snickered. I took another sip of coffee, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them. This could be a problem.

I was about to ask what was so funny when another voice from behind me cut in, "Morning."

Chloe walked into the kitchen wearing tight, black Lycra pants and a dark red sports bra. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat that emphasized how toned her body was. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, and back rippled with every movement, and her firm ass popped in the near-painted-on fabric. The freckles that prominently dusted her face and arms spread to varying degrees across her chest, shoulders, back, and, to a much lesser extent, along her lower back and abdomen. Speaking of abdomens, hers put everyone else to shame; slight hills and valleys of a well- formed six-pack subtly played underneath her flat belly. She was toned, muscular, and appeared to be in peak physical condition, but she still managed to maintain a feminine quality. Chloe had perfected whatever fine line that required, and my mind conjured multiple dirty things that I could have done to her in the bedroom.

No. That wasn't right. If anyone was having things done to them in that scenario, it would likely be me. That didn't make the scenario any less attractive, though.

She gave everyone a little nod and moved with cat-like grace toward the cabinets where Erin had retrieved my cup. She poured a cup for herself, took a sip, and hummed in pleasure.

Camille looked pleased with herself as she tumed away from us and began working on more food for our upcoming meeting.

"Went for a run?" I asked.

Chloe shook her head, 'No. I set up the workout equipment Erin ordered. We have a gym, and it's back day."