Page 21 of Baby for the Bratva King

Terrific.

I compose myself, which apparently now includes combing my hair profusely in time for his entrance, making sure the front pieces fall how I want them to in that chic effortless, high effort way.

“You look well this morning,” says Felix, stepping into the kitchen.

All things considered.

“Thanks.” I press myself up against the counter, not sure what to do with my hands. I tie them around my back, waiting for him to address the elephant in the room.

As my boss, it’s his duty to make me feel comfortable in his home… in an appropriate way. No more showers.

“I’m heading out shortly if you can make me a green juice.” Felix strides across the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and some sort of meat from the fridge.

Meal-prepped steak?

“I’m a cleaner, not a cook.”

“For thirteen thousand a week, I’m sure you can make a green juice for me while I finish getting ready for work.”

He isn’t ready already?

I look him up and down. His cufflinks are on, sleeves rolled back the appropriate amount. A black tie sits neatly between his collar, falling down the middle of his shirt. The last two buttons on his suit jacket have been fastened. His polished shoes are on.

What else does he need to do?

“Sure,” I say, hiding my frustration as Felix passes me a recipe book.

Eat Real Food is the title.

I roll my eyes, setting it down, grabbing the ingredients. Spinach. Kale. Apples, peeled. One and a half kiwis.

“Can’t you just buy a green juice?”

Felix trails his fingers across his kitchen knife collection, deep in thought.

I clear my throat, waking him from his trance. “Yes,” he says, turning back around. “But they’re too sugary.”

“Ask for no sugar.”

“Their apple juice comes with added sugars.” He opens the fridge. “I like to make my own. Here. You can use this. It saves you peeling the apples.”

I grab the glass bottle from his hands, his fingers brushing mine. Desire awakens deep in my stomach, but I shake it off. This bastard has me working as his personal fucking chef. Clearly, he’s bothered about yesterday. Is he punishing me for stripping? Or is this about me testing his boundaries?

Maybe Felix is frustrated with himself for going ahead with something that benefits the other person more.

But believe me, I’m not benefitting here. In fact, the more time he spends in this kitchen, the more I fall.

Desire forms a tight ball in my stomach, my pussy burning. I look into his starburst eyes and immediately disappear into another thought, picturing his hands running over his cock in the shower again. He was moaning my name, thinking about me.

Bottom of the fucking food chain, Saskia.

“Pour the juice into the glass bottle over there,” says Felix.

Glass, of course. God forbid he swallows one too many micro plastics and falls dead on the floor. That would be a real tragedy.

I flick the button on the blender, the kitchen filling with a loud screeching sound.

Felix finds my eyes across the kitchen island, watching me intently. He disappears out of the kitchen, finally giving me a break.