Grant Reilly is the Executive Chef at the North & Vine restaurant. He’d worked there for most of his life. Recently, they had hired you. A younger sous chef. You were talented for your age, even working for a professional actor and travelling to Paris. You had so many opportunities, so much experience for someone so much younger than him.

And for him? He’d just worked in this dump for too long. He would catch it every time he caught his reflection in any of the shiny surfaces in the kitchen.

He was sceptical at first when his team hired you, but wow. He was wrong. You were amazing, sure you were stressed at first but you caught on.

It also helped that you were beautiful, truly stunning. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you worked. You felt it too. The looks. That escalated slowly, lingering touches, the low tone he would use when he talked you through things. The way you shamelessly flirted when no one else was looking.

Oh he was in trouble.

Now, you were with him in the kitchen after hours. He was making some pasta, just practicing and you were helping out.

One thing led to another and you guys were making out. His hands on your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the steel counter.

His hands lifting the fabric, teasing you in all the right places. Seeing what would coax those pretty noises from your lips as his mouth trailed breathy kisses against your skin.

“That’s good baby, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your ears. Feeling you tremble against him. His hands moving, teasing that fabric between your knees.

Then, he lifted it to the side. Slowly leaning down until he was on his knees beneath you. Staring up at you with those hazel eyes.