‘Yes,’ she said. And just because she liked to mess with him, even when she was vulnerable and needy in his arms, she added a ‘Yes, chef.’ Archer groaned and rocked his hips against her in a way that suggested maybe he was reconsidering his idea about taking his time, if only just for a second. ‘Christ, Iris. How am I going to go to work if I get hard every time I hear ‘Yes, chef’ now?’
