This was the first time I’d seen her out of her chef’s clothes, and my eyes greedily drank her in. The term hourglass figure was invented for women like her. Her waist was narrow, her hips were generous, and her legs were long and bare. And her breasts . . . I almost groaned out loud. The dress had a neckline obviously designed to devastate men. It was cut low enough to give a glimpse of cleavage while still being classy, wide enough to reveal the upper swell of a pair of breasts that appeared to have been molded by God himself. If she wore that with a mind to negotiate for more money, she’d
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