At the top of the stairs, mom turned around an looked at me in disbelief.“You wait downstairs,” she shoved me back onto the steps. “And don’t ...tart anything down there. Bring her up here to my room, not yours.”“Ok, ok. I got it,” I grumped.Mrs. Yamato was almost half an hour late. I opened the door as soon as I heard her heels on the sidewalk. She laughed at the obvious eagerness on my face and the further evidence she spied as soon as her eyes dropped to my pants.“May I come in,” she laughed. His hair was jet black, cut short and swept back, a few stubborn strands fell across his forehead, giving him the look of a mischievous schoolboy who was trying to pass for James Bond. His chin was strong and square with a cleft . His body was lean and hard and I felt myself willing him to turn around so I could look at his ass. If it was like his front I bet I could bounce a quarter off it. Mistress’ voice broke my concentration. ‘Jean Claude is our resident chef…he’s wonderful Annie. You. More

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