Breaking Hollywood [CAMREN]

Chapter 10

Lauren

I'm feeling a little nervous, cooking for Camila. I know I've cooked for her already, but that was just a straightforward soup and some pancakes.

I want to make this nice because I want to thank her for what she's doing for me and Gucci—hiring me to take care of her and letting us stay here.

She doesn't have to do that.

Not that I really do that much, apart from getting her drinks whens he wants them and feeding her. Oh, and helping her out of the bath, which I had to do again before I started dinner.

And, dear God, it's hard to stop myself from taking a peek at her cock to see how big it actually is.

I can't exactly give her shit for staring at my boobs and then go and look at her cock without her permission.

And is it bad of me that I actually kind of like it when she stares at the girls?

I know it's not very feminist of me, but I like the fact that she thinks I have great breasts. Not that I'd ever admit that to her.

It's just, she's Camila Cabello, hottest woman in the world, lusted after by millions, who's probably seen lots of girls' boobs—famous models' and actresses' boobs—and she thinks that I, and I quote, "have the best rack" she's ever seen in her life.

Hell yeah!

But, anyway, I don't really feel like I'm earning my money, and it doesn't sit well with me, so I'm going to ask her if there are more jobs that I can do around the house.

Dinner's almost ready, so I call out from the kitchen to Camz, "Where do you want to eat dinner? At the table or in the living room?"

"Living room's fine," she calls back. "You need me to do anything?"

"No, I got it."

I serve up the jerk-seasoned pulled pork that I just made into a dish. Then, I turn the heat off the stove and dish out the spicy-jerk prawns with mango into another waiting bowl. I get a tray from the cupboard and put the pulled pork, jerk prawns, tortillas, banana salsa, and coconut dressing that I made earlier on it. I grab the prepackaged salad from the fridge and empty it into another dish. I put it on the tray, which is looking pretty full.

I'll have to come back for the plates.

I pick up the tray and carry it through to the living room. Camila is on the sofa, foot up on the footstool, watching TV. Gucci is laid out on the rug, fast asleep, but then her head perks up at the smell of food.

I put the tray on the coffee table.

"I'll just grab the plates, and I'll be back. You want anything to drink?" I grab the two empty beer bottles off the coffee table.

"Do you want wine with dinner?" she asks.

"Sure."

"There are some bottles in the wine cooler. Take your pick."

"Okay." I go back in the kitchen and drop the beer bottles in the recycling bin.

I get another tray and put two plates on it along with some serving cutlery. We don't need any other utensils, as this is finger food. Then, I get two wine glasses and pick out a nice Riesling, which will nicely accompany the food. I remove the cork and then carry everything into the living room.

When I get there, Camila is sitting on the rug near the coffee table, her leg stretched out on the floor.

"You okay sitting there?" I ask, putting the other tray down.