Third person POV
Liam had spent what felt like an eternity in the kitchen with Liza, forced to try the same recipe again and again under her exacting instruction.
But the true test wasn't the cooking; it was the chef. Liza was a vision of delicious temptation, dressed only in a pair of impossibly tight shorts that hugged the perfect curve of her ass and a simple black shirt with a deep cleavage.
Every small movement was a provocation. When she leaned over the counter to correct his grip on a knife, the lush weight of her breasts strained against the thin fabric, threatening to spill free.
They bounced with a gentle, hypnotic rhythm as she whisked, her huge tits practically begged Liam to abandon all pretense of learning and simply take them in his hands. Resisting the urge to claim her was a torture far greater than any burnt sauce.
