Seducing the Sexy Celebrity Chef (3 page)

“Neither am I,” the chef replied,
with a simple shrug.

That wasn’t at all the response
Holly had expected.  She thought he’d yell and scream and start smashing
dishes.  But he’d said his piece, and he’d made his point.  Now, he looked at
her so disarmingly she hardly knew what to say.

Stepping forward, Holly placed her
small purse on the stainless steel island.  She unzipped it slowly, feeling his
gaze warming her fingers as she pulled out a condom.  “I don’t know why I
brought this.  I really didn’t think we’d… you know…”

“But you hoped?”

“Well, obviously.”  Holly bit her
lip.  She couldn’t look at him as she slid the condom packet across the
gleaming steel surface.

He took it from her, touching his
fingers to hers, and she felt strange vibrations flowing through her hand.

“Holly?”

She looked into his face, and her
pussy pulsed like it had its own heartbeat.  He was
sooo
handsome…

“What’s the most important component
of a relationship?”

“Trust,” she replied.  She didn’t
even have to think about it.

“Trust,” he said, nodding.  “Come
here, my dear.”

“Where?” she asked, though the
answer was obvious.

“Right here.  Come close.”

She walked around the island,
pulling her skirt down, which was really rather silly when her breasts were
still bare.  She let him curl his big body around hers.  Pressing his chest
against her back, he pushed her hips forward until they met the oven door.  Her
heart raged and her pussy pulsed as he breathed in her ear.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She swallowed hard.  “I… I… guess
so?”

Grasping her wrist, he held her open
hand firmly over one of the spider burners.  “Do you trust me?”

Holly’s throat ran dry.  “What are
you doing?”

“You’ve no reason to trust me. 
We’ve only just met.”

She didn’t struggle, because she
wasn’t sure how he’d react.  “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t,” he said.  “You have my
word.  But that’s the issue, Holly—do you trust my word?”

Holly gazed at her hand.  It wasn’t shaking,
and that surprised her.  “I do trust you.  I don’t know why.  You’re right—I
have no reason to.  We’ve only just met.”

Chef Burley held her wrist firmly,
yes, but there was nothing preventing her from pulling away, or at least
trying.  She didn’t struggle against him.  She didn’t want to… until his other
hand made a play for the knob.

Holly tried to yank her hand away,
but the chef’s grip tightened around her wrist.  He pressed her palm down until
it met cold black metal.  Her heart beat a mile a minute.

“You’ve no cause to trust me,” he
said as he turned the stove on.

Clamping her eyes shut, Holly
listened with horror for the hiss of gas, the click of ignition, and the whoosh
of a blue flame.  She prepared herself to be burned.

But nothing happened.  No hiss, no
click, no whoosh.  Only Chef Burley’s big hand around her small wrist as her
palm sweated against the cold metal.

“The gas line won’t be hooked up
until next week.”  His breath scorched her ear.  He let go of her wrist.  “No
chance the fire would light.”

“I should have trusted you,” she
said, her throat dry as cotton.

“No, Holly.  People think they know
me because they’ve seen me on television.  You don’t
know
me—not yet. 
Trust must be earned.  It takes time.”

“You’re right.”  And, because he was
right, a seed of doubt sprouted in Holly’s mind.  “Do
you
trust
me
?”

His breath came on hot and slow. 
When she pressed back against him she felt his erection like a steel rod
against her backside.  If it wasn’t for the huge stainless steel appliance in
front of her, she’d have fallen to the ground for sure.  She felt dizzy with
lust as his hands rode her sides.

Finding Holly’s breasts and crushing
them together, Chef Burley pressed hot kisses into her neck.  His cock rode
slowly up her skirt, and she wished to god she could feel his hugeness inside
her pussy.  She was so wet for him.  She wanted him now.

“Fuck me,” she begged.  “God, I need
it.”

“So do I, Holly.”  His voice sounded
tortured by lust.

“Open your shirt.”  She wanted to
feel his hard chest against her back while he fucked her.  She saw him
shirtless on TV once, and it turned her on so powerfully that she almost went
crazy.

She watched over her shoulder as
Chef Burley tore out of his white chef’s jacket.  Under that, he wore a white
T-shirt.  He ripped that off, too.  His chest was clean, hairless, and every
bit as chiseled as his jaw.  Holly tried to speak, but she couldn’t.  Her body
was just a pulsing pool of lust.  Arousal had taken over.  She was speechless.

Holly licked her lips as Chef Burley
shed his pants.  He had on dark blue jockeys, but he took those off, too.  His
cock sprang toward her, spanking her ass.  She couldn’t wait to feel his hot
cock against her skin.  She wanted it to burn her, brand her, so she would never
forget this day.

Though, how could she possibly
forget?  This wasn’t just some guy—this was the notorious Chef Burley.  He was
a celebrity and he wanted her!

Tearing open the condom packet, Chef
Burley fitted the latex around his dick.  Holly couldn’t stop watching.  The
condom hugged his cock tight, and she wondered if she should have bought a
larger variety.

“My god, the size of that thing!” 
Holly pulled up her skirt.  “It’ll never fit.  Never in a million years.”

“But I gather you’re willing to give
it a go.”  Chef Burley eyed her thong as she pushed it down her thighs.

“Well, sure.”  Holly winked over her
shoulder.  “Never know unless you try.”

Chef Burley’s sheathed cock kissed
her ass cheek while he took hold of her wrists.  She had to admit, she liked
the way he gripped her and pressed her body down on the range.  His chest
pushed against her back, driving her down until the mean metal burners cradled
her breasts.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?”  Chef Burley
teased her with laughter.  “Have you never made love in a kitchen?”

“Not like this!”  Holly gasped as
the chef’s celebrity cock tickled her pussy lips.  “Not ever, actually.  That’s
the honest truth.”

“Ah, so this will be a first for
you?”  The chef slapped her with his erection, igniting sparks in her clit. 
“First time in a kitchen?”

“Yeah.”  Holly struggled to laugh. 
Everything seemed dead serious when she was this aroused, like the world might
crumble at her feet.  “Please, no more teasing.  You’re killing me.”

“I hardly think so.”  He traced his
cockhead up her sopping pussy, navigating the folds of her lips, ending
squarely on her asshole.  When she clenched, he laughed.

“Oh god.”

“Don’t panic.”  Chef Burley
retreated to her pussy.  “I’m only teasing you.”

“I can’t take it.”  Holly set her
cheek against the range.  The dark metal felt cool as it pressed into her
blazing skin.  Cool, and rough.  “Fuck me.  Please just fuck me.  I’ve wanted
you for ages.”

“Have you?”  His cockhead found her
wetness, filling it up, mushrooming inside.  “Your pussy’s certainly ready for
me.”

Holly opened her legs a little
wider, feeling her thong digging into her thighs.  “My pussy’s always ready for
you, Chef.”

“Always?”  He slid his cock deeper
into her cunt.

He was huge, but she was ready. 
“Always.”

Chef Burley lunged forward,
bottoming out in her pussy, driving her breasts deeper into the spider
burners.  It was a little like medieval torture, as far as Holly was
concerned.  But in a good way.

“So, if I happened to be passing by
the pretty little house I imagine you living in—”  Chef Burley pulled back and
then thrust forward, burying himself balls-deep in her cunt.  “—when you come
to the door, your pussy will be wet and ready for me?”

“My pussy will smell you coming,
Chef.”  Holly heaved into the saddle of his hips, giving herself completely. 
“Every time you think about me, my pussy will tingle, my clit will throb, and
I’ll know you want to fuck me as bad as I want to fuck you.”

“Mmm…”  He gripped her hips and
drove into her wetness.  “I can’t believe how wet you are.”

“After eating my pussy, you still
can’t believe it?”  Holly closed her eyes and pictured Chef Burley’s chin
dripping with juice.  That image turned her on so intensely her pussy clamped
down on his dick.  “Oh god!”

“What are you doing to me, Holly?” 
Chef Burley fell against her back, his slick chest coating her skin with a
sweet smear of sweat.  “Fuck, I can’t even think!”

As his ferocious fucking crushed her
against the spider burners, Holly bore his weight gladly.  He covered every
inch of her skin, like a sauce.  His breath was hot on her ear as he panted and
moaned.  Holly’s noises were higher-pitched, but equally uncontrolled.

“Fuck me!  Fuck me!  Fuck me
hard
!”

With the racket they were making,
she wouldn’t be surprised if someone burst into the restaurant to make sure she
wasn’t being murdered.

“I want you to come, Holly.”

“I will,” she cried, hugging his
erection with her tight pussy muscles.  “God, I’m gonna come so hard.  I’m
gonna come all over your cock!”

“Do it.”

He fucked her so rapidly she had to
shield her head with her hands.  His force was driving her against the range. 
Her tits would definitely be bruised from the spider burners, but that was
fine.  No one else would see them, and they’d remind her of the chef.

“Come for me, Holly.”

“You first.”  She groaned as he
pounded her cunt.  “God, I want to see it.”

Her flesh throbbed as he fucked her,
and she knew she couldn’t hold back.  Some women said it was impossible to come
just from a good fuck, but Holly knew the truth: everyone was different.  She
loved a good clit massage, and she’d had that earlier when the chef ate her
pussy, but on rare occasions, when the fucking was intense and the cock was
nice and huge, she could come without getting her clit stroked at all.

“Fuck!”  Holly tightened every muscle
in her body.  Her head spun like a top.  “You bastard!  God, you’re making me
come!  You’re making me come so fucking hard!”

Like she needed to tell him!  It was
pretty obvious from the way her pussy clamped on his dick, from the way her
thighs shook and her fingers clenched.  She arched and screamed, milking his
cock, trying to gauge from his appeals whether he was coming.

“I want to see!” she cried as he
pressed harder against her backside.  “Let me see!”

She didn’t really expect him to pull
out, but he did, so fast her pussy ached.  She could never get enough.

Tearing off his condom, Chef Burley
asked, “Is this want you want?”

His big hand encircled his shaft
tightly.  Leaning back against the stainless steel island, he jerked himself
off so hard Holly’s pussy clenched just watching him.  His fist strangled his
cock, gliding its length in raw, stilted motions.