My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) by Megan Michaels Read Free Book Online Page B

I get you cheese.”
    His shirt fit tightly over his broad shoulders, bunching over his biceps. He definitely worked out daily. He opened the fridge again and pulled out a couple bricks of cheddar and pepper jack cheese.
    How in the name of hell am I fitting my fat ass into yoga shorts and a top with a body like that next to me?
    He had gone to the pantry, returning with a box of crackers. “Now, we discuss more fitness rules. Three meals a day. You do not skip any. Your metabolism can’t function without food. Do you have mini fridge in your office?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    He nodded. “Good. What do you keep in it now?”
    “Diet pop, yogurt. Dips for chips or pretzels. Coffee creamers.”
    He stopped slicing cheese, raising a dark eyebrow at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, clenching his jaw. “You need to keep staples in your fridge at work for busy days when you can’t eat like you should. But they must be food items that will help keep your body functioning. Hummus, cottage cheese, fruit, cheese, wheat crackers, carrot sticks. A little plate of those and you will have protein, dairy, fruit, vegetable, and grain. See? No need to have fancy lunch every day. But you will eat three times a day.”
    “That’s a good idea. I can do that.” She meant it too. She’d eat any of those for lunch, and they would be better than a hot dog at the stand on 5th Ave, or one of the soft pretzels from Sal’s in the lobby.
    “What do you normally bring for lunch now?” He placed a small plate of cheese and crackers in front of her. “Eat all of it.”
    He returned to the chicken, taking the cover off the pan, the steam filling the little area in front of him. It smelled amazing, her stomach growling in response. “Keep talking, Lena.”
    “ Caroline . Well, I don’t typically bring lunch. Sometimes, I get a sandwich or salad from the cafeteria.” She shrugged at him. “I’m not good at cooking. That’s why I’m hiring you, remember?”
    “Yes, I do remember. We’ll take care of that. From now on you bring lunch, or I bring you lunch. And on Mondays, you bring fresh produce for your office fridge.” He peeled the sweet potato, then sliced it along with the bell pepper. In another pan, he had olive oil and garlic sautéing while he opened a can of crushed tomatoes and another of tomato sauce. He dumped the contents of the cans into the pan, then stirred in some additional spices, turning her kitchen into what smelled like a gourmet restaurant.
    He grabbed the bottle of wine she had on the counter, adding some wine to the chicken and throwing in the sweet potatoes to let them cook. He covered the pan again to let it simmer, then added the pasta to the pot of boiling water.
    “Caro, where are your pasta bowls or plates?” He stood in front of a row of cupboards trying to guess which one had the bowls.
    “I’ll get them and set the table. You handle the stove. I’ll grab you the large pasta bowl for the table.”
    Just as she finished the table, he brought the meal out to the table. He’d put everything into it, along with a large, silver serving fork. The food smelled delicious.
    He placed a generous portion on a dinner plate. “This one is for Jason. You should bring it to him.”
    She’d forgotten that her bodyguard had hinted at wanting dinner tonight. She walked to the little office she had for him near the front door. “Jason, here’s your dinner — from Maxim.”
    “Thank you, Caroline. This looks amazing. Please tell me that you’re hiring him. He’ll be good for you.”
    She smiled back. Jason was more than just security or a driver. He had become a good friend, despite their occasional clashes. “Yes, I think I want him as a fitness trainer. He seems very good, doesn’t he?”
    “Very. And I get the impression he’ll help me to keep you in line.” He dipped his chin at her —another gentle rebuke.
    “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about him. I’ll do better, I