“I had such a shitty day on Friday, and I’m determined to change my mind-set.”
“Good for you.”
Molly arrives and puts her bag onto the desk with a bang. “Anybody want a kid?”
I giggle. “What now?”
“Ugh.” She flops into her chair. “So you know how Brad got caught messaging that girl. I took his phone from him because his father wouldn’t do it,” she snaps.
“Yeah.”
“Well, he was angry, but he wasn’t that pissed off, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he wasn’t hassling me for his phone back all the time like normal, and he wanted to go to bed really early last night.”
I frown as I listen.
“I felt like something was off, so I checked the hiding spot to see if his phone was still there, and it was. Then I had this strange thought to check the SIM.”
Aaron chuckles, already knowing where this story is going.
“The little shit had taken the SIM out and put it into an old phone.”
“Oh, crap.”
“I barge into his bedroom, and sure enough, he is on his phone, and it is hidden under the covers. I snatch it off him and lock myself in the bathroom while I go through it. He’s banging the door down, so I know there is something on there that he doesn’t want me to see.”
My eyes widen as I listen.
“Get this,” she sneers. “Pure little Chanel has been sending him nudes too.”
I frown.
“This fifteen-year-old little girl is built like a fucking Penthouse Pet.”
We chuckle.
“Oh, it gets worse,” she continues. “While I’m looking through his phone, a new message comes through from her.”
“What was it?”
“I got a Brazilian like you wanted. You like?”
My mouth falls open.
“Can you believe that message?”
Unable to help it, I burst out laughing.
“I would find this funny, too, if it weren’t my child,” she whispers as she sits down at her desk.
“Then Brad had a complete meltdown and told me that if I call Chanel’s parents, I’m effectively committing social suicide for him as his whole reputation will be ruined and that he’s never going to school again.” She hits her computer keyboard with a hard bang.
“That’s true,” Aaron replies. “You can’t call her mother.”
“So it’s all right for her to call me, but I can’t call her?” she stammers.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I probably wouldn’t call her mother either.”
“Well, what would you do?” she asks.
“I’d buy him a box of condoms, that’s what I’d do.”
She stares at me, wide eyed.
“Because imagine if he got her pregnant,” I add.
“Oh my God.” She drags her hand down her face. “I can’t deal with boys. They are so stupid.”
“The amount of testosterone in a male teenager is ridiculous,” Aaron replies casually. “I was jerking off four times a day when I was fifteen.”
Molly and I wince.
“Four times a day?” I stammer.
“Don’t girls do that?” He frowns in surprise.
“No,” we both gasp.
“Men are gross.” I fake a shiver in disgust.
The phone on my desk rings. “Hello,” I answer.
“Hello, Emily, this is Sammia, Mr. Miles’s PA.”
What does she want? “Hi.”
“Mr. Miles asked me to let you know that you have a meeting in his office in an hour.”
“I’m very busy today. Can you tell Mr. Miles that, unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it?”
“He told me that your attendance is mandatory, and he’s already spoken to your manager to get clearance.”
I roll my eyes. Stupid twat. “Fine. I’ll be there. Thank you.”
Knock, knock. I tentatively knock on Jameson’s door.
“Come in,” his strong voice calls.
My stomach flips with nerves, and I open the door. Jameson sits alone at his desk. His eyes rise to meet mine.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, please take a seat.”
I drop to the chair as I clasp my hands together with white-knuckle force.
His eyes hold mine. “How are you?”
“Good, thanks.” I drop my eyes to the desk. I’m not looking at those beautiful blue eyes. He’s like the snake from The Jungle Book—one look in those hypnotic suckers, and your panties drop to the floor.
“Look at me, please,” he commands.
“What do you want, Jameson?” I snap. “I don’t have time for your games.”
“I want you to look at me.”
I drag my eyes to his.
“Why don’t you want to look at me?”
I stare at him for a moment. “Because I just find your face really . . . punchable.”
He smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly amused. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, it is.” I look around his office. “Can we talk about work?”
“Later. Right now I would like to talk about your tantrum on Friday.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“She’s my masseuse.”
“Like you said, it’s none of my business.” I glare at him, my resting bitch face in full swing.
“I was going to call you last night.”
Now it’s my turn to be amused. “Don’t waste your time. I wouldn’t have answered.”
He runs his thumbnail back and forth over his bottom lip as he watches me, as if fascinated. “Why are you so snarky?”
“I’m not snarky. I’m just not about to put up with shit from an entitled asshole. You may be a CEO here, but . . .”
He sits back and raises his chin as if angered. “Finish what you wanted to say.”
“No. I’m good.” I clench my teeth together to stop myself from elaborating.
“I may be the CEO here . . . but what?” he demands as he swivels on his chair.
“I wasn’t angry with you on Friday. I left in the middle of the night because I was confused . . . about a lot of things. I was going to talk to you when I was thinking clearly because I didn’t want to be a drama queen.”
Our eyes are locked.
“And then I came to your office, and you treated me like a two-bit whore that you ejaculated in the night before.”
He clenches his jaw.
“I’m nobody’s whore, Jameson, least of all yours. No job is worth my self-respect.”
The air crackles between us.
“So excuse me if the privilege of sucking your golden CEO dick doesn’t excite me any longer.”
He rubs his thumbnail back and forth over his bottom lip as his eyes hold mine.
“Were you on the debating team, Ms. Foster?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I snap, annoyed.
“You make a good argument.” He licks his bottom lip as he tries to hide his amusement. “Impressive.”
I roll my eyes. Sarcastic asshole. God, he infuriates me so bad. I get an image of myself diving over the desk and punching him in the nose as hard as I can. It would wipe that smug smirk off his stupid face. I’m not even joking; his face really is punchable.
“Please,” I mutter under my breath.
“Please what?”
“Please stop insulting my intelligence. Run your meeting so I can get back to work. You’re wasting my time.”
Knock, knock.
“Come in,” Jameson calls.
Tristan puts his head around the door and looks between us. “Are we on?”
I get the feeling that Jameson told them to give us ten minutes alone before they joined us. “Yes, come in,” he replies coolly as he rearranges some papers on his desk.
They all pile into the office, and I straighten in my chair. These four men together are an extreme sucker punch. Gorgeous overload.
“Hello.” Tristan smiles. “Emily, this is Elliot and Christopher, our brothers.” I stand and shake both of their hands.
“Hello.” Elliot and Christopher smile.
“Hi.”
“Please be seated,” Jameson commands. “Tristan, you can do the honors, please.”
“Okay. So as per our meeting on Friday, we have recruited a private corporate investigator to work on your floor and get to the bottom of this mess.”
“Okay.” I look between them.
“What we want you to do is keep sending in bogus stories.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because if there are a lot of stories going through that are bogus, it will be easier for us to trace.”
I sit back in my seat, annoyed.
“And as you can see—” Tristan continues.
Jameson holds his hand up. “Stop there.” He turns his attention to me. “What is it, Emily?”
I stare at him.
“What did you want to say, then?”
My eyes flick between the four men. “With all due respect, Mr. Miles, I didn’t apply for my dream job to do bogus stories.”
“Fair point,” he snaps as he rubs his thumb over his fingertips.
“What’s going to happen when this is all over?” I ask.
“You will return to your normal duties.”
“I would like that in writing, please,” I snap.
Elliot smirks and drops his head.
Jameson’s eyes hold mine. “Very well.” He turns his attention back to Tristan. “Please continue.”
“The investigator will be starting next week on Monday, and Emily, we would like you to be his eyes on the floor.”
I frown. “I don’t really want to get involved in all this.”
“You involved yourself the moment you stepped through my office door,” Jameson replies.
I drop my head. God.
“Emily, if you could give us a few bogus stories to start with next Monday, that would be great.”
“Okay, what would you like me to write about?”
Jameson’s eyes meet mine. “The first story I would like to be about a fake prostitution racket.”
I frown in question.
“Call the ringleader a two-bit whore.”
The fucking nerve of this man. “Okay.” I smile sweetly. “I have enough material to work with on that one.”
“Good.” Tristan smiles. “Work on those stories, and we will touch base next Monday afternoon.”
“Yes, okay,” I reply as I stand and walk toward the door. “Sounds good.”
“Emily, I’d like to see you for a moment, please,” Jameson replies calmly.
I stop on the spot. Seriously?
The boys file out of the office. “Bye, Emily,” they call.
“Bye.”
The door closes behind them, and Jameson stands and walks up behind me.
I can feel the heat from his body. The power he emanates is like nothing I’ve ever felt.
He takes my ponytail in his hand and wraps it around his knuckles three times and pulls my head to the side to give him access to my neck. In slow motion, he licks from my collarbone to my jaw with his thick, strong tongue. His lips go to my ear. “I didn’t get to taste you yet.”
I close my eyes as arousal runs through my blood like a river rapid. Goose bumps scatter up my spine.
I turn to him, and he takes my hand and puts it over his large erection in his pants.
Electricity zaps between us, and our eyes are locked. My breathing becomes ragged.
“Can I see you tonight?” he breathes.
I squeeze his dick as my sex clenches in appreciation.
“No, Jameson, you can’t.” I turn and walk out of his office with my heart hammering in my chest.
I get into the elevator as my body screams for me to go back. Every molecule in my body wants that man.
But he’s just an asshole . . . and I’m just another groupie.
It’s not going to happen.
It’s Saturday night, and we are lined up to get into Sky Bar. I’m with Ava and Renee, and this is our third club. It’s nearly midnight. I’m having the best time ever. We have laughed and danced and prick teased every stupid man in New York.
“Why are we waiting here in line again?” I frown. “What was wrong with the last place?”
“Nothing. This place is better, but it doesn’t heat up until eleven.”
“Oh.” I shrug. Gosh, I know nothing about New York nightlife. The doorman removes the red rope blocking the door and ushers us in, and my breath catches.
Wow, this bar is way up on the fiftieth floor and has a huge balcony overlooking the city lights. There’s a dance floor and numerous cocktail bars, and the girls are right—the men here are another caliber.
I glance down at myself nervously; I hope I look all right. My long dark hair is down, and I’m wearing a cream-colored fitted dress. It has long sleeves and a plunging neckline. I splurged and bought myself a new dress for tonight; I wanted to look nice.
It’s paying off; I’ve never gotten so much male attention in my life. Amazing what a tight dress and a little cleavage can do for a girl.
We order drinks and go and find a space to stand as I look around in awe. I’ve never been in such a cool nightclub before. “This place is insane.” I smile at the girls.
“Right?” Ava smiles. “The men here are off the hook.”
“And filthy rich,” Renee adds.
“Who cares about rich?” I smirk as I sip my drink.
“Me,” they both reply in unison.
“If you’re going to be with a guy, he may as well be wealthy, if you ask me. Fuck being with a poor bastard. I’m poor, and opposites most definitely attract,” says Ava.
I laugh as I listen to them.
“So who do we have here tonight?” Ava says as she looks around the club.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I watch her eyes scan the room.
“This place is a huge celebrity hangout.”
“Really?” I frown as I look around. “I wouldn’t even know any celebrities.”
Over the next hour, we dance and laugh, and Ava explains to me in great detail about who is who. Apparently, the men are all very impressive. None take my fancy, though.
A gorgeous man comes up through the crowd and puts his hands on my thighs. “Do you want to dance?” he asks. He’s blond and big and totally in my space, but the way he looks, I think I can deal with it.
“Yes, she does,” Ava stammers as she stares at the god in front of us.
He grabs my hand and drags me to the dance floor, and I give my friends a scared wave with my fingertips as my eyes widen.
Ava blows me a kiss and jiggles on the spot in excitement.
“What’s your name?” he asks as he wraps his arms around me.
I put my hands on his shoulders as I stare up at him. “Emily. What’s yours?”
“Rocco.”
I smile up at him. What a weird name. Gosh, I feel tipsy. I need to stop drinking.
“This is your first time here?” he says, as if he already knows the answer.
“How do you know that?” I smirk.
“I would have noticed you if you were here before.”
I smile bashfully.
His hands roam down to my behind, and I lift them back to my waist. “You’re very forward, Rocco.”
“I know what I want when I see it.”
I smile as he leans in and puts his lips to my ear.
“I want you,” he breathes.
Chapter 10
Jameson
“Hmm, not bad,” Christopher murmurs as an attractive redhead walks past us.
We both watch her as she saunters over to the bar. She’s wearing a tight black dress, and she has a perfectly rounded ass. I scrunch my nose up in distaste. “Average.”
“She is not average.” His eyes drop to her behind and stay firmly fixed. “Far from it, actually.”
“Not doing it for me.” I sigh against my glass as I look around the crowded club. It’s a rarity that a woman catches my attention these days, with the exception of Little Miss Snarky. I can’t get enough of her . . . even if she is completely unmanageable.
Our exchange in my office on Monday runs through my mind, and I exhale heavily.
She’s so fucking difficult.
It would help if I could keep my mouth shut when I see her. For some reason, she has me blurting out demands and grabbing her by the hair; it’s as if my body takes on a need of its own and completely leaves my brain out of the equation.
Every time Emily leaves my office in a huff, I kick myself for handling her the wrong way.
I know women; I know how they think, and I can usually get them to do whatever I want. Her . . . not so much.
Christopher licks his lips as he watches the redhead. “I’m going in.” He strides across the club and says something to her as she stands at the bar, and in slow motion, she smiles up at him.
I smirk and sip my drink as I watch him in action. He loves women—all women. It seems to be a family trait; we’re all wired the same way.
Something’s changed for me lately, though. My appetite for variety has waned. Something’s off, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. I glance over to Tristan and Elliot as they talk to two girls in the lounge. The women are being all animated and laughing on cue at everything that comes out of the boys’ mouths.
Bimbos.
I sip my drink as I look around the room. “Hey,” Tristan says as he comes to stand beside me. “Look who’s here.”
“Who?” I mutter, uninterested.
“Cream-colored dress, hair down, and looking absolutely fucking sensational.”
I frown as I look over to where he is gesturing.
It’s her. Emily is here.
A broad smile crosses my face. “Well, well. The night just got interesting.”
Tristan chuckles. “That’s if you don’t kill each other first.” He slaps me on the back. “I’m going to the bar.”
“Yeah, okay.” She’s with two women I’ve never seen before, although they do look vaguely familiar; they might be from work. They’re talking and laughing. Emily is wearing a tight cream-colored dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. I can see every curve on her delicious body, and my cock swells in appreciation. Her hair is down, and she pulls it over to one side as she talks, and I see the curve of her bare neck; my stomach clenches in excitement.
Fuck . . . she’s hot.
I’ve never had such an intense physical reaction to a woman like this before. I just can’t get enough of her body. The more I have her, the more I want her. If only she didn’t have the snarkiest damn attitude I’ve ever seen.
Maybe that’s the appeal?
Most women fall at my feet; she seems determined to push me away.Hmm.That’s something to think about. If the truth be known, I should stay away from her. She works for me, she’s a firecracker, and who knows what she will do if we fight again. I smirk. I already know that we will fight again—the writing is on the wall. She has a way of pissing me off like no other.
A song comes on that she obviously likes, and she starts to dance on the spot. Her ass slowly moves to the tantric beat, and I stand and stare, transfixed by the goddess in front of me.
She has no idea how fucking sexy she is.
“New York sour,” Tristan says as he hands me my drink.
“Thanks.” I take it from him.
“You know, the way you’re looking at her is illegal in some countries, right?”
I watch her hips roll, and I imagine them over me doing the same thing. I inhale sharply as my arousal starts to thump between my legs. “Have you ever been so physically attracted to someone that you lose the ability to think around them?”
“No. Thank fuck,” Tristan replies as he watches her dance. “Although with that ass, I can imagine—”
“Don’t even fucking look at her ass, or I will sit you on yours,” I say, cutting him off.
He chuckles. “Look at you getting all territorial.” He sips his drink as mischief fills his face. “She did want to report to me with that story, you know.”
I look at him flatly. “And you report to me, fucker. Go near her, and you will fucking die.”
He throws his head back and laughs out loud.
A blond man walks over to her and says something, and she smiles up at him.
“Oh, look out,” Tristan teases. “Competition is on the horizon.”
I watch as uneasiness begins to swirl.
His hands go to her thighs, and I clench my jaw. I sip my drink as I watch.
He says something, and she laughs out loud before he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Tristan turns and laughs when he sees my face. “Well, this is about to get interesting.”
The blond slides his hands down to her behind, and she lifts his hands back to her waist.
I watch as the sky turns red.Get your fucking hands off her.He says something, and she laughs out loud.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
So this is what she’s here for, is it? To pick up a man. Fury begins to fill me.
“Looks like your territory is about to be stolen.” Tristan smirks.
“Shut the fuck up, Tris, before I knock you out,” I snap as my eyes stay glued to them.
The blond leans down and kisses her neck. Something inside me snaps, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m on the dance floor beside them.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
Emily turns to me, and her face instantly drops. “Jameson,” she stammers.
My arm goes around her waist, and I pull her from his grip. “She’s here with me.”
Emily
Oh my God, what the hell is Jameson doing here? I step back from the blond god, and he grabs me and pulls me back toward him. “Don’t,” he snaps.
“Don’t you,” Jameson growls. He pulls me out of the guy’s arms and holds me against his chest. “I said she’s with me,” he repeats.
The guy stares at me, and I nod softly. I don’t want any trouble, and I just want this guy to disappear. “I’m with him,” I whisper.
With one last look between Jameson and me, he turns and storms off toward the bar. I turn my attention to Jameson Miles, the infuriating prick, and I pull out of his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you think you’re fucking doing?” he growls.
“Don’t you swear at me.”
“You came here to pick up a man?”
I put my hands on my hips in outrage. “I came here to dance. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with my brothers.”
“So go back to your brothers and ruin their fun,” I huff. I go to turn, and he grabs my arms and pulls me to the side of the dance floor and pushes me up against the wall.