Cocky Chef by JD Hawkins
Release Date: July 31st
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Designer: Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs
Model: Christian Hogue
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You can call me arrogant as much as you want. But when you’re the best at what you do and have the hottest restaurant on the west coast, with enough Michelin stars to make Gordon Ramsay’s head spin, you’ve earned the right to your confidence.
When I give an instruction in the kitchen, it’s not a suggestion–it’s an order. So when a new chef thinks she can do things her way, and dares to say so to my face, even her sharp wit and gorgeous pouty lips don’t make it okay.
But I have to admit, she’s got talent. She’s creative in the kitchen and not even that double-breasted chef jacket can hide her perfect body. As I get to know her, I can’t help wanting to know everything she thinks. I’ve never met a more talented chef. And I’ve never met a sassier and sexier woman in my life.
There’s only one way this push and pull can end.
With her in my bed, begging for more.
Okay…so…I have a dilemma. In one hand, I really enjoy JD Hawkins’ books. But in the other, Cocky Chef didn’t live up to the hype I thought it would.
Let’s take those same hands and switch up the “ingredients”. In one hand, we have a sizzling chemistry between two characters that caught fire immediately. But in the other, the highly original, unique story line didn’t spark a spicy and saucy romance that had the potential to blow the lid off the pot, so to speak.
There were plenty of aspects of this story that I highly enjoyed. But with that being said, there were also quite of few issues I had as well. I really liked the characters. Cole and Willow were very authentic and their passion for not only each other, but for food and cooking, was fantastic. Their shared desires were hot to read, and it could set off smoke alarms everywhere. But (and this is a tough but to say) the romantic aspect of the book seemed to be a filler, more on the back burner, and not the main point of the story. The book was so focused on food, and specifically detailed dishes, that the romance didn’t shine as bright as what I had hoped. I wanted more of the budding relationship between the characters, not the difference of flavor potency garlic has depending on how you chop it. As much as I loved Cole and Willow, this was a tough obstacle to overcome.
Now this review is completely my opinion. Each reader has their own experiences with reading the same stories, and I’m hoping more people loved this book. So in true and complete honesty,
Cocky Chef was a small let down for me. And this book will in no way deter me from reading Hawkins’ future releases. It’ll just make the anticipation that much more enjoyable for me when his next book comes out.
She lets out a sigh of relief, but my cock hears something different in her gasping exhale. I bring my thumb slowly to a speck at the side of her mouth, fingers resting on the round perfection of her jawline. She stills under my touch and catches my gaze, time slowing with the deliberateness of my movements.
I brush the speck, but don’t pull away. Instead, I bring my thumb back across those ever-pouted lips, tracing their dip and fullness, letting her feel the texture of hands rough and scarred from a lifetime in kitchens, our eyes locked together in a moment of anticipation, emotions raging like an angry sea against the dam of the distance between us.
Her lips part slightly, I feel her shortening breath on my hand, and I push my thumb between those juicy, perfect lips, fingers pressing against the base of her ear. Her gentle gasp breaks the silence, before she closes those soft lips around my thumb, the sight of them pressing against my skin making my cock full against my pants. Her teeth gently squeezing my nail, tongue flickering as I push the finger inside the hot wetness of her mouth.
My other hand already on her waist, I pull her toward me, press her lithe body up against mine. Those magnificent hips swaying and rubbing against mine, her weight shifting onto me, breasts heaving, nipples so hard now I can feel them through that sweater dress.
“You’re fucking incredible,” I growl. Prelude to pulling her toward me, my finger in her mouth still, angling her head so I can taste the tenderness of her neck, run my sensitive tastebuds down the taut muscles, follow the path that leads me to the front of her chest. Quiet moans getting louder as I run my tongue down the softness of her cleavage, her dress my enemy now as I pull it down and bury my teeth in her breasts.
“Oh God…” she moans. “Cole…”
About the Author:
JD Hawkins writes erotic romance with modern-classic alpha males and strong, independant women. He currently lives with his wife in Los Angeles, CA. He loves to travel and has lived in many places, including New York City, India and Thailand. When he isn’t writing, JD enjoys surfing, training in Mixed Martial Arts, reading and taking naps. He’s always loved making up stories, especially ones inspired by real life.
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