" she drawled in passing, the absolute minimum of politeness.I sighed and turned to follow her toward the stairs that would lead us both down to our c...assrooms. I stared at her perfectly formed ass encased in a long but tight black skirt. For a woman in her forties, Viktoriya Isakova truly was in excellent shape. Still, she had lived up to her ice queen reputation, rejecting all of my advances and never giving me an inch. "Bitch," I muttered beneath my breath.Turning at the stairs, my fellow. ..” I shrugged. She rolled her eyes. “It’s easy. Just turn the knob to the left. Open the door. Take out the bread. Put it on the counter. Oh, and don’t forget a mitt. It’s hot.” She looked at Roger. “Ha, he can manage a whole company but can’t turn off the oven.” Roger chuckled. I went to the kitchen and paced the floor. Her irreverent tone was getting to me. She had barely touched her wine so that wasn’t an excuse. It was like she was on fire, too hot to handle. She had never behaved like. More

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