The Love Of Money - S02 E166

Story 2 months ago

The Love Of Money - S02 E166

Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 166

No longer hungry, I pushed my seat away from the table and stood up. Camille watched me, suddenly looking like a woman observing a man who was capable of anything.

And she was a woman ready and willing for anything.

I slid Ryo’s phone in my pocket and took a few steps toward her, looking her up and down. Her chef’s uniform was double-breasted across her front, covering her completely to the neck, but it outlined her hourglass figure perfectly.

I stopped only two or three feet away from her, meeting her eyes and wondering what the fuck I should do.

Surely I had enough pussy already. There were at least half a dozen women who would climb into bed with me at a moment’s notice. If I asked, Erin would find me a new partner in no time.

Hell… I was waiting on a phone call from Chloe to tell me that she was taking Carla to the dungeon, where Helen and Bobbi were waiting, along with Erin. One of the most fit women I had ever seen; a hot blonde Barbie who used to be married to my enemy; a woman whose age granted experience, but who took so good care of herself that she looked several years younger than she actually was; a hot little tornado of sexual rage, and the most perfect woman I’d ever met.

Why would I need to fuck around with someone who seemed to be in a healthy relationship with a good man?

And yet… she was a hell of a beautiful woman who was clearly down for it.

Christ… what did she look like under that uniform?

My phone vibrated in my pocket, jarring me from my introspection, and I pulled it out to see who it was.

Hey, Chloe had texted, she just got home. Letting her freshen up a little, and I’ll bring her right up.

I texted back a thank you.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, looking back up at Camille.

If anything, the chef’s warm, flirtatious smile deepened a little. “Of course. You’re a busy man.”

And then she reached down, took my hand gingerly in hers, and lifted it to her lips, tenderly kissing the back of it. She laid another soft press against my knuckles. Then another against my second set of knuckles.

Then she slipped the tips of my middle and ring finger between those pouty, soft lips and oh so gently sucked on them. I didn’t feel her tongue—just warm, moist, silkiness that made my mouth dry.

She didn’t break eye contact the entire time, and I couldn’t look away.

Camile let my hand slip from her grasp and gave me a look that suggested she was the most innocent woman I’d ever laid eyes on. “If you ever want more than good food, monsieur… you know where to find me.”

And without another word, she left me alone.

I swallowed, only then realizing just how dry my throat actually was and then headed for the door. As I left, I brought my still-damp fingers to my nose and sniffed, picking up faint hints of her scent. She smelled… well… she smelled fucking amazing.

And she tasted even better.

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To Be Continued..