The Hotshot Chef: A Billionaire Holiday Romance (International Bad Boys Set Book 3)

by JA Low

  These are all brilliant ideas.

  We continue walking through the barn area, talking about colors, furniture, and décor.

  After the barn, we explore a couple of the other old working buildings.

  Then we continue on a little further where I show her the building that will be housing the Cava, the wine the grapes will produce.

  I’ve hired a vintner who specializes in Cava to set it all up because I know nothing about wine other than how to drink it and what food to pair it with. He arrives next week. We won’t be filming that building being refurbished, so I’ve given him carte blanche to do what he needs to get everything up to industry standard and running by next summer.

  We also discuss turning the old cottage and some of the unique buildings into accommodations. People can stay, explore the region, eat, and drink the wine right at their doorstep.

  I walk Quinn through where we will be building the market gardens. I want to use fresh ingredients, and now I have the space to grow everything I could possibly desire for the restaurant’s kitchen. I explain how I want to use some of the back paddocks for chickens, ducks, geese, pigs, cows, and goats.

  I’m also interested in making my own cheeses where possible and even have fresh milk. I explain to her how I would like to be farm-to-plate as much as possible. So, I might have to build an abattoir in one of the outbuildings on the property.

  Quinn’s not as keen on killing the animals for food as I am. I talk to her about even having a couple of beehives, so I can use the honey and the comb for cooking.

  Quinn and I talk back and forth about what to do with turning this run-down, dilapidated old farm into a thriving business once again.

  “Are you ready to go check out the secret villa?” I ask as we make our way back to the car.

  “Hell, yes,” she states excitedly.

  We get back into the car and head on down one of the dirt tracks away from the main building. I can feel Quinn’s excitement building beside me. We turn the corner, and the old building comes into view.

  “Oh… wow,” she whispers. Her hand reaches out and squeezes my leg while she can’t take her eyes away from the awe right in front of her.

  “I know.” Loving her reaction and remembering my own just the other week, I park the car, and we get out. Quinn follows behind me as we walk down the old stone path through the overgrown garden, and I push open the door.

  “Oh, Sebastien…” She gasps as she steps inside the villa. She turns around and stares at the building.

  “I’m going to make this my home,” I tell her. “As soon as I walked into the villa, it felt right. Maybe one day I might be lucky enough to have a family here with me. I can see my kids running through the vines, picking wildflowers, helping me in the gardens or tending to the animals,” I confess. I haven’t expressed my personal future dreams to anyone but myself, and it feels cleansing.

  “I love it.” She smiles. “This is such a magical place. It would be so wonderful to bring up a family here.”

  It makes me happy that she understands my dream and doesn’t make me feel foolish for thinking it, either.

  We explore further. There are five bedrooms, a beautiful old kitchen with antique-style tiles, a couple of bathrooms, a formal dining room, formal living, and an everyday living area. It’s huge for just one person.

  Quinn runs her hand over the stone walls, feeling every bit of its texture as she does. She stops in certain parts as if absorbing the building’s history into her veins, so she may be able to interpret it for me.

  “I’m so jealous, Sebastien.” As we begin to explore the old gardens, she continues, “This place is something really special. You should be so proud.” Bumping her shoulder with mine, for some reason Quinn saying she’s proud of me kind of hits me hard in the chest, giving me all the feels if I’m being totally honest. I reach out and place my arm around her shoulders and pull her in tightly.

  “You and I are going to be creating something pretty spectacular here over the next few months,” I whisper as we stare out toward the Garraf Massif mountains.

  “I want to do it right for you, Sebastien,” Quinn tells me.

  I turn and look down at her worried face.

  “I don’t want to mess it up,” she explains.

  “You won’t mess it up,” I reassure her.

  “I’ve never worked on a project by myself before. What happens if I’m not as good as I think I am.” I can see the vulnerability written right across her face that she honestly believes she might let me down. Reaching out, I cup her cheek and make sure she has my full attention.

  “I trust and believe in you, Quinn,” I tell her, my eyes narrowing on her face to make sure she truly understands that I mean business.

  The next thing I know, Quinn reaches out, grabs my shirt, and pulls me to her. Her lips are on mine. She’s hungry, desperate, and needy as she claws at me like I am her next meal.

  I’m not sure if this time, I will be able to stop myself at just one kiss.

  31

  Quinn

  Now, don’t judge me, okay?

  I know this looks bad, maybe needy or desperate jumping a man because he told me he trusted and believed in me, but who the hell am I kidding? His words hit me, which is basically code for right in the vagina, and I’m currently devouring his face, and he’s letting me.

  “Tell me to stop, Quinn, if you don’t want things to go further?” he asks breathlessly. His lips meet my neck, and he begins to work some kind of voodoo magic against my skin, which is making it really hard to do the right thing and say no to whatever it is that’s about to happen between Sebastien and me.

  My hand moves from the muscular planes of his back down to the hard globes of his ass, my fingers digging into his fleshy skin, pulling him closer to me. That was enough to make Sebastien lose his mind because next thing I know, he’s picking me up in his arms. My legs wrap themselves around his waist as he moves across the room.

  “I warned you, Quinn,” is all he says as my back hits the wall, which is a shock, then Sebastien’s lips capture mine again, erasing everything in my mind.

  Electric white heat hits every nerve ending all over my body as if I’ve just had electroshock therapy. Thank goodness I had the fortitude to wear a dress today because this would be a lot harder. I can feel the stretched denim of his hard-on rubbing against me. The friction is a delicious heat, which slowly and steadily makes me feel like I might explode or go insane at any moment. I can’t get enough of him as I continuously rub myself against his jeans like a damn cat in heat.

  Maybe my pussy really is?

  “Tell me what you need?” Sebastien grabs my face between his palms, his chocolate eyes molten with hunger.

  “I want you,” I tell him.

  It’s as simple as that.

  He grins and kisses me again. He’s just as hungry and needy as I am.

  “Please tell me you have protection,” I whisper awkwardly in his ear.

  “Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He grins and moves his lips down my collarbone. Light grazes of teeth grip against my flushed skin. His fingers work the top two buttons of my dress open, displaying the lace of my bra.

  He opens just one more button exposing my breasts to him. His hand reaches out and cups one, fingers digging into the plump skin. He’s forceful yet gentle. His fingers find my nipple, and he proceeds to do his magic. Who knew I could get off by nipples alone?

  His lips move away from mine and back down my neck, and this time he captures my lace-covered nipple in his mouth. The friction and heat are sending me wild as if I’m seconds away from crawling out of my skin. His teeth tug and tease, and I’m done for.

  “You have the best tits,” he mumbles against them as he proceeds to lovingly motorboat them. “They mesmerize me as they jiggle. I try, boy do I try, not to look, but you…”

  I am not sure if he’s speaking to me or my breasts.

  He shares the love between the twins until I c
an’t take it any longer. My hand runs along the band of his jeans feeling his heated skin. One by one, I pop the buttons of his jeans. My hand runs along the outside of his briefs, and he almost buckles with need. He feels so hard, long, and thick against my hand.

  As much as I would like to tease him, in all honesty, I’m ready for the main event. My hands release him from his hold, and I wrap my palm around his velvety skin.

  Well, Sebastien Sanchez, you most definitely have the goods to back that ego up.

  “God, Quinn,” he groans, followed by a slew of Spanish curses and pleas.

  Next thing, his hand disappears into his back pocket, and he pulls out a condom. He rips the packet with his teeth, then rolls it along his sizable length.

  He nudges himself at my entrance covered by a pair of very thin, damp panties. His fingers run along my slit making my head fall back against the wall. I close my eyes and send a prayer to the D gods.

  “You’re so wet, Quinn,” he whispers in my ear. “Have you been thinking about this while touching yourself?”

  Well, I would have if I’d had time.

  His knuckle moves the flimsy material to the side, then he drags the tip of his dick through my slickness.

  Yes. Yes. Yes. I wiggle myself into position.

  “You have no idea the number of times I have pictured myself doing this to you.”

  Oh, wow, now that’s a confession.

  He drags the tip of his dick one last time through my folds before he plunges deep inside me. Both of us moan at the connection. I feel so full, and he feels so deep.

  “I can feel your pussy strangling me, Quinn.”

  His dirty talk is on-point.

  “Give me a minute.”

  He better not be a premature ejaculator because that would suck so bad, especially when he’s all wrapped up in this handsome package. He moves us away from the wall, shuffles over to the dining table, and lays me flat against it.

  “Now, that’s fucking better.”

  I don’t even have time to give him a witty comeback before his fingers dig into my hips, steadying himself as he pulls out of me and then thrusts hard into me again.

  Shit! I swear he’s going to bruise my cervix if he keeps going deep like this. Who cares, I’m sure I don’t need it. He finds a natural rhythm, and I’m just holding on for dear life.

  Sebastien reaches out and pulls my bra down exposing my breasts. “I want to watch them bounce while I fuck you, Quinn.”

  Yes. Yes. All the damn yeses.

  He feels so good. This feels so good. Why the hell have we not been doing this earlier?

  Sebastien’s face is intense as he screws me into kingdom come. Well, I sure as hell hope he makes me come.

  I shouldn’t have worried because this man has skills, major skills. His thumb finds my throbbing clit, and like a damn match, a couple of strokes, and he has me igniting, all the while continuing to screw my brains out.

  “More, Quinn. I want more,” he demands.

  What? I just gave you an orgasm, I don’t think I have another one to… oh, holy moly, there is no way he can pull another one from me this quickly. But he does. The pussy magician pulls an orgasm out of nowhere, and I’m floating, lost in the fog of bliss.

  His fingers tighten, his rhythm becomes frantic, and every vein in his body is pulsating while I wait for Sebastien to push himself over the edge. Moments later, he does, and he lets out a loud guttural groan.

  Now comes the awkwardness.

  The moment the lust clouds part and either regret, despair, or round two happens.

  “Wow.” Sebastien grins down at me. I’m still splayed out along the dining room table like a fancy table runner. “That was…” He has a smile on his face and hasn’t tried to remove himself. Okay, maybe it’s round two, then. Reluctantly, I sit up on my elbows and stare at the handsome man before me, wondering did I really just fuck my friend and co-star?

  “Please don’t tell me you are about to have a shame spiral?” he questions me.

  “No.” Actually, I am feeling very called-out right now.

  “I don’t regret what just happened.” He falls away from between my legs, unrolls the condom, ties it up, and tucks himself back into his jeans. I sit up further, pushing my boobs back into their holders and doing up the buttons on my dress.

  “I don’t regret what happened. No one should regret great orgasms.” Sebastien grins at my compliment. “As long as things don’t get weird between us because I would truly hate not having you beside me during this journey.”

  Sebastien’s shoulders relax as he lets out an unsteady breath. “Nothing is going to change between us,” he tells me. “Okay, maybe that’s a lie.”

  Oh no, my stomach starts to sink. I knew it! I knew there would be a problem. There’s always a problem when this kind of thing happens when friends blur the lines.

  He moves forward and places a hand on either side of me, caging me in. “I want to do this again… with you.”

  Okay, he recovers quickly. Good for him. No wonder he has a reputation.

  “I mean if you want to go again. I’m sure you can get me in the mood,” I tell him, but my answer makes him laugh.

  “As much as I would love for another round right now, we should be getting going back to Barcelona. Sebastien leans in, and his lips touch my ear. “The next time I fuck you, I want to take my time and explore every inch of your body.”

  Dead.

  He just killed me with his words.

  “Is that okay, Quinn?” He stands back and folds his arms across his chest.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good.” He holds out his hand for mine to take, and then he helps me off the dining table. I give myself a quick fix-up and take his hand that he offers me again, and we walk back through the villa to the car.

  Once we are buckled up and have driven out of the driveaway, Sebastien becomes chatty, and we talk about everything under the sun.

  32

  Quinn

  Back to reality.

  We are back in Barcelona after spending the day working out what we want to do with his restaurant before production arrives next week.

  “I’m feeling inspired,” Sebastien tells me. “You go on up, I’m thinking I might head to the market. There are a million and one ideas running through my mind at the moment, and I want to try them all. I’ll be back in half an hour,” he tells me, placing a kiss on my cheek, and then he’s gone.

  By the time he comes back, I’ve freshened up and am working on design ideas for the new areas we’ve been discussing all day. I’ve got paper and drawings all over the dining room table.

  “You’ve been hard at work, too.” He grins, his arms are laden with bags and bags of produce. He places it all in the kitchen with a thud.

  “Seems like you have been hard at work, too.” Eying off the large amount of food that he’s brought home, I smile.

  “Today, while we walked and talked about the business, my mind started to race with possibilities. The original ideas I thought I wanted from this project are now beginning to change and crystallize.” Sebastien’s face is lit up with excitement. I’ve never seen him so animated before. “With this project, I’ve been trying to recreate my past, what I lost after my divorce, and to try and prove to the world, to Spain, that I deserve all of this.” He waves his hands in the air. “That, yes, my ex’s money may have been the foundation for my career, but it wasn’t the entire building of it.” Those chocolate eyes sparkle with newfound confidence.

  “I don’t need to be the best anymore. I don’t need to be chasing accolades or fame,” he tells me as he moves around his kitchen. “I just want to do what I love in a place that I love. I want everyone to have access to my food, not just the people who can afford it. I want it to feel like they’re coming home.” He stops what he’s doing and grins.

  “Oh, Sebastien, that sounds amazing.” I’m so utterly proud of his decision.

  “I want to cook unpretentious food, rustic, ear
thy, homely. Just like the villa feels like when I’m there.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been on a bit of a journey today.” Twisting the pen in my hand, Sebastien leaves the kitchen, rounds the island counter, and stops in front of me. He leans down and captures my face in his palms. Then he leans forward and kisses me slowly. There is no urgency. He takes his time exploring my mouth with his own.

  “Um… what was that for?” I question him as he steps away from me.

  “Because I wanted to.” He gives me a cheeky smirk and disappears back into the kitchen, where he spends the next couple of hours banging pots and making things.

  The smells that have been filtering through the apartment have me practically drooling while I spent the last couple of hours going through architectural drawings of the original plans and the modifications we spoke about doing today. I spent a ridiculous amount of time creating Pinterest mood boards to show Sebastien the images I had in my mind visually for him. I know he sometimes gets a glazed look over his face when I get lost in explaining my ideas, so I think this will help.

  “Here are some ideas I was thinking of adding to the menu.” Sebastien lays the items out before me. “I’ve wanted to infuse my life in America with my life in Spain, so I wanted to add a Spanish twist on some American favorites.”

  The first dish he pushes in front of me is collard green soup with chorizo and a couple of slices of thick, crusty bread. I take my spoon and delve into the bowl, it’s a little hot, but the flavors are there. I can taste the bell peppers and paprika, the smoky taste mixed with the greens, and then the salty, spicy chorizo.

  Sebastien grins at me when I give him the thumbs up.

  Next, he moves in front of me a Spanish style mac and cheese. No way.

  “This is a little different from what we eat here. I’ve added chorizo and Manchego cheese, which gives it the Spanish twist,” he explains.

  I eagerly grab my fork and dig in. It tastes divine, and let’s be serious, I don’t think Sebastien makes anything that doesn’t taste incredible.