The Billionaire’s Full Figured Desire

Chapter 10

“Excellent,” Frida murmured absentmindedly. “Well done.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “You feeling okay, boss? I’ve made that dish a million times, I could do it in my sleep. Why are you acting so weird?”

“Weird?” Frida echoed. “I’m not acting weird. I just…want us to do well.”

“What happened to ‘we always do well?’” Andrew asked an edge of amusement in his tone. “Where did that come from anyway?”

Frida shrugged, smiling too. “I don’t know, it just slipped out, to be honest. I shouldn’t really have said it.”

“Just now you’re realizing this?” Andrew drawled, arching his eyebrow. “I think you’re a bit late to the party, Carter.”

When am I not late to the party? Frida thought privately. Sometimes I can’t even believe I made Head Chef of this place!

She peeked out of the doorway and twisted her neck, which was the only possible way to see the table under the antlers from the doorway. There Terrence was, digging into the plate of tagliatelle that his waiter, Felix, had just placed down in front of him. He appeared to be ravenous, as he attacked the chicken and pasta, but Frida soon realized that it was just really good, or at least Terrence thought so. She immediately chastised herself for the end of that thought. There was no “or at least,” it was definitely good. Andrew was more than just capable as a chef, he was damn good, and he proved it every day.

As the day dragged on, the weight on Frida’s shoulders began to alleviate itself more and more, a fact that she was eternally grateful for. She began to feel a sense of hope like there was an actual chance that they (“they” being she and Terrence) might actually make it home. As the skies turned dark, they moved closer and closer to the one-yard line, and it seemed to be only a matter of time before they were home and dry.

That evening, as Frida and her team packed up shop, she was experiencing the greatest feeling of elation that she even remembered feeling in all her days! Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration, but she couldn’t believe her luck. All of that worrying, all of that overthinking, and it was all for nothing. That just had her luck written all over it. The last thing Frida did as she locked up her office was take one last peek inside to make sure everything was in order. Her eyes fell upon the clock on her desk that she’d neglected to fix again. She rolled her eyes. I’ll get right on it tomorrow, she thought to herself, knowing good and goddamn well that it was a lie.

But she could worry about that bridge when she eventually came to it. For now, Frida had another dilemma. Terrence, of course, had had to leave without a single word to Frida, and now she had no idea what they were supposed to do next, where they went from here. She felt…cut-off. Discombobulated. Disconnected. For the past week or so, Terrence had been…for all intents and purposes, a big part of her life. Now he was just…gone. And she had no idea where, or when she could expect to see him again.

Frida decided that, rather than dwelling on that, she could dwell on good news. And the good news was that nobody had seemingly suspected anything! It was looking like Terrence had been wrong, which was something that Frida was looking forward to telling him as soon as she got a chance. But when would that chance be, she wondered inwardly as she walked through the lamp-lit streets of Seattle.

She had no idea where Terrence was, no idea how to contact him, no idea of…anything, really. He was like a ghost who had just vanished without a trace, and whatever trail he had left had officially gone cold. But Frida was tired after the ordeal that day, and she desired her bed more than anything else. But when she got to the end of her yard path, where the gate was, she was greeted by a sight that lifted her heart right out of her chest, and made her skin tingle.

Terrence Harrison was standing at the end of her path, dressed once again in a snappy black suit and a trench jacket. He turned on the path as Frida arrived, a smug smile plastered over his face.

He smiled a cheeky smile and waved at her. “Hey.”

Frida didn’t even think about it, she just went for it. She pushed open the gate, strode up the path without a word, and threw herself into Terrence’s arms, pressing her lips against his. If she had thought that their first kiss was passionate, this one very nearly split her very soul in two.

It was as though the increased serotonin pumping through her had heightened her senses. She could feel and see and smell and touch…everything, it seemed. She could feel Terrence’s body heat, smell his freshly-showered scent, his aftershave. And it drove her wild. It filled her with a passion and intensity that she had never even thought possible. Her hands were snaking around his waist, his running through her hair as he cradled her head.

Finally, they broke away, and Terrence held Frida close against his chest. And there they stayed, entwined like that in the middle of Frida’s yard path, gently swaying with the soft breeze, and completely at bliss before Terrence spoke and broke the silence. “So? How were you?”

Frida used her free hand to stroke his chin. “We can talk about all that later. I want you, and I want you right now.”

Terrence couldn’t resist smirking at this. “Whatever milady desires,” he said imperiously. He reached down, wrapping his arms around her legs, using his biceps and forearm to clamp her thighs together. Frida realized what he was about to do a split second before he did it, and her heart skipped a beat. Is he about to pick me up? I’m way too heavy for-

Frida’s internal concerns were suddenly cut short, however, when Terrence hefted her up in his arms as though she were made of plastic, with seemingly no effort at all. Frida was so surprised at this that her internal thought process froze in its tracks. He’s stronger than he looks, she thought once she’d regained control of her brain.