SERVING THE CEO

SERVING HIM SERIES

M. S. PARKER
BELMONTE PUBLISHING, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the
writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC
 CONTENTS

Free Book

Prologue
1. Jessica
2. Derrick
3. Jessica
4. Derrick
5. Jessica
6. Derrick
7. Jessica
8. Derrick
9. Jessica
10. Derrick
11. Jessica
12. Derrick
13. Jessica
14. Derrick
15. Jessica
16. Derrick
17. Jessica
18. Derrick
19. Jessica
20. Derrick
21. Jessica
22. Derrick
23. Jessica
24. Derrick
25. Jessica
26. Jessica
27. Derrick
28. Jessica
29. Derrick
30. Jessica
31. Derrick
32. Jessica
33. Derrick
34. Jessica
35. Derrick
36. Jessica
37. Derrick
38. Jessica
39. Jessica
40. Derrick
41. Jessica
42. Derrick
43. Jessica
44. Derrick
Epilogue
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Inspiration.
 PROLOGUE

I t was a beautiful day for a wedding in M anhattan . T he sun had

broken through the clouds as I stepped into The Plaza Hotel and continued
to the magnificently decorated Terrace Room. Derrick's friends and family
were there, including his sister, Amelia, who was my Maid of Honor.
And my parents, of course. My mother's eyes were red and puffy from all
the crying she had done in the past few days, and my father looked like he
was about to faint. I guess they were still getting used to the idea of their
only daughter marrying a billionaire.
But that was the least of my concerns.
I could feel Derrick's eyes on me as I walked down the aisle. It made my
heart race and my stomach do somersaults.
This was a mistake.
I should never have agreed to marry him. Derrick Thomas, the infamously
demanding and arrogant CEO of Broker Publishing, the largest book
publishing company in Manhattan. Also, my boss. But it was too late to
back out now. Or was it? Legally, I could still say no. But I couldn't save
my dad's bookstore if I didn't go along with this scheme.
It all started three months ago as a social experiment. Research, Derrick had
called it. For his new self-help book. But soon, it’d become so much more.
The courting, the dinners, the trips, the…sex… Oh yes, the sex.
And then there’s the million dollars. That’s how much money Derrick
Thomas agreed to pay me if I married him and stayed married for twelve
months. Enough for my dad to pay off his business loan and own the
bookstore outright.
It sounded like the perfect arrangement.
Anybody could handle a year of amazing everything, right?
The priest spoke, then Derrick said something, but my nerves kept me from
hearing it. All I could think about was how much I wanted to run away.
The priest turned to me, but his voice was just a buzzing sound in my ears. I
couldn't focus on his words. I was so lost in thought I hardly heard him say,
“Do you, Jessica, take Derrick to be your husband?”
It wasn't until I felt Derrick’s hand on my arm that I realized it was my turn
to speak.
I took a deep breath to deliver the words that would change my life forever.
“I…don't.”
There was a collective gasp from the crowd.
Fuck.
Derrick's eyes widened in shock. And my heart felt like it was about to beat
out of my chest.
I had probably just made a huge mistake I would regret for the rest of my
life. But I couldn't go through with this sham of a marriage. Not even to
save my family's business.
Because somewhere along the way in the last three months going through
the fake engagement, I’d fallen madly in love with Derrick, and staying
with him for one year wasn't enough.
I wanted forever. And I was pretty sure Derrick Thomas felt otherwise.
He was a billionaire playboy, after all. Not the settling down type.
Staying with him for one year would break me completely.
ONE
JESSICA
 THREE MONTHS EARLIER

I had frozen in place , certain that I’ d imagined the thud from the
front of the bookstore. Then, the unmistakable sound of a door opening and
a shuffling sound made my blood run cold.
Nobody should’ve been in there because I’d locked that door half an hour
ago before coming to the back room.
I automatically reached for my phone and then panicked as I remembered
I’d left it by the cash register to charge after I’d drained the battery earlier
tonight.
Damn cat videos.
I was stuck with no way to call for help, which meant I could either
cower…or fight.
Swearing silently, I grabbed the crowbar my dad kept for crates and eased
my way back up front. Adrenaline raced through my veins, sharpening my
senses and making my pulse race.
My heart jumped into my throat as I spotted a shadowy figure moving along
the aisles, touching one of the displays. I couldn’t see them clearly, not even
enough to tell if they were male or female, only that they were taller than
me and on the heavy side. As I watched, they rounded the counter and
stopped behind the cash register—right where I’d left my phone.
And that was when it rang.
They jumped.
So did I.
I rushed at them, screaming.
They—he, I now saw—swung around, screaming at an even higher pitch
than me, hands jerking over his head protectively. I could see then that he
was wearing the strangest thing.
A suit.
Who breaks into a store wearing a suit?
Confused, I backed up, but still held the crowbar at the ready, just in case he
tried something. “Get out of my store!”
“I-I…” he stammered, his hands shaking.
“Get out! I’ve already called the cops!”
He didn’t need to know I was lying.
“I’m from the bank!” he squeaked.
Okay. Hadn’t expected that. I lowered the crowbar and frowned, my
confusion turning into something more worrisome. “You’re from the
bank?”
“Yes.” He peeked at me through his arms, his skin pale and shiny with
sweat. “I’m here to evaluate the building.”
Dread crept over me, and I backed up a few more steps, my hip bumping
against a shelf. I had a feeling this would not be good, but I was proud of
how calm and level I sounded as I asked, “Exactly why are you here to
evaluate the building? And how did you get in?”
“The bank—they wanted it evaluated before the sale.” He dangled
something in front of me that flashed as it caught the light from outside.
“Look…I’ve got a key.”
I darted forward and snatched it from him, staring in dismay at the key as I
tried to figure out what he was talking about. A sale? What sale?
Glaring at him, I demanded, “I need to see some proof.”
“I…please, ma’am. I need the key back.”
I shoved it at him. “Proof.”
He blinked rapidly, eyeing the crowbar I still held. “Can you…put that
down, maybe?”
“I’m a woman alone in a closed store with a stranger,” I said coolly. “No.”
He jerked his head and reached into his rumpled suit jacket. “My business
card,” he said when I tensed.
“Okay.” I supposed I was close enough to knock anything else out of his
hand if it was something other than a business card. I tightened my grip on
my weapon.
But what came out was indeed a business card, one of the fancy, thick ones
that cost a mint and served no purpose but to say, Look, I make a lot of
money!
“Gilbert Gold,” I said, rubbing my thumb over the embossed print. It gave
his name, a phone number, and an address that, sure enough, identified him
as a commercial real estate valuation analyst.
A long title for somebody who was about to wreck my parents’ lifelong
dream.
“I don’t suppose you considered that showing up after closing time was a
dangerous thing to do,” I said, jamming the card into my pocket.
He gave me a stiff look and tugged his jacket back into place. Now that he
knew I would not hit him, he seemed to regain his composure. “I’m simply
doing my job. I have a key and the right to be here.”
“And I have a crowbar and was scared somebody was breaking in,” I
replied.
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, color flooding his cheeks. I
didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or anger. “Perhaps I should have
come during business hours, but the bank sent a letter, Ms…?”
“Ellis,” I said absently as I processed what he’d said. A letter. And my
parents hadn’t told me. This night was just getting better and better.
Needing somewhere to focus my ire, I went for the obvious target. “Did this
letter say you’d be showing up here after hours tonight?”
He pressed his lips together.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Regardless, the building is being sold.” He reached into his jacket again,
watching me warily. “I have a copy.”
I gripped the crowbar as if it’d steady me, the bottom of my stomach
dropping out as his words hit.
Sold.
This was the second time he mentioned that. It couldn’t be real. Why hadn’t
my parents said anything?
He held out an envelope. “This is a copy. The original was sent a week ago
with a signature confirming delivery.”
As soon as I took the letter from him, Gilbert Gold practically ran out of the
store, perhaps still concerned that I kept holding onto my crowbar. If he'd
hung around another minute, he would have seen it fall from my numb
fingers, along with the letter.
The building was definitely being sold.
My parents could lose their store, livelihood, and eventually their home.
They had worked no other jobs. They had nothing to fall back on. The
bookstore was their life.
Dazed, I slid to the floor, staring around me at the lovingly arranged book
displays, the shelves, and the aisles that were so carefully maintained. The
indie author section I’d convinced my parents to add last year. The little
tables and chairs in the kids’ section where I’d done my homework every
day after school growing up.
My whole life was wrapped up in this place.
My parents’ dreams, their savings…their everything.
And now, what would happen?
 

 
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
I’d waited until I got home to call him, using the time on the subway to
calm my shattered nerves, although I could have ridden every damn mile of
the New York City subway system and still wouldn’t have been calm
enough for this talk.
“Now, Jess…” he sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you. It's something your
mother and I have to deal with. You’ve got your own life, your own
problems.”
“Dad!”
“No.” Voice firm, he continued. “We both appreciate you giving us a couple
of nights each week to help with the store, but that’s all you can do. This
isn’t the first time the bank has tried to push us out over the last forty years.
We’ll figure something out, sweetheart. We always do.”
We talked for a few more minutes, and Mom came on the line. She rattled
on about the off-Broadway play she’d talked Dad into seeing. I knew she’d
worry, so I let her coax a couple of laughs out of me, but even when the call
ended, I was still troubled.
That letter had been pretty damn clear.
It wasn’t suggesting the possibility of a sale.
The entire building was being sold, and my parents, along with the other
tenants, would have to move.
Dropping down on my bed, I flung my arm over my eyes and sighed. I
wracked my brain for ideas, but short of winning the lottery, there wasn’t a
damn thing I could think of to help them.
 

 
“Are you going to bring an offer for the book?”
Jami Griffin, my roommate and best friend, eyed me from across the narrow
aisle separating us, the subway car rocking back and forth as we hurtled to
the next stop on our way to work.
“Yes.” My heart fluttered just thinking about it. It would be my first signing
for Broker Publishing. “I spoke to the author Friday, and it went really, and
I mean really well. She has great charisma, and you can tell she’s passionate
about her work.”
“You sure the big wigs are okay with that? It’s very different from what
Broker Publishing usually releases,” Jami said with a half-smile.
“True. But that’s kind of why they hired me. If they want a division of self-
help books devoted to women, they need a woman…and the feminine
perspective.” I grinned at her. “You can’t see Derrick Thomas handling
those books, can you?”
Her eyes widened, long lashes framing the pretty hazel. “I try not to think
about him, thanks.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I sipped my coffee from the to-go cup and sighed as I
thought about the man who owed the company I worked for. “He’s…
intimidating.”
“Yes. Gorgeous, but scary as hell.”
I frowned and realized my friend had summed him up perfectly. I hadn’t
considered Derrick’s looks much, although there was no denying he was
attractive. He had a way of staring at you like he could see right through
you, which threw me off balance. Since I didn’t need to be around him
much, I made sure not to be. He had a coldness that made being near him
awkward.
“You’re right,” I said, looking out the window. “Gorgeous, but scary as hell.
What a waste.”
A few moments of silence passed, and I looked over to see Jami nibbling on
her thumbnail, a habit she’d mostly broken.
“What are you worrying about?”
She grimaced. “I just want the day to be over with.”
“Why?” I grinned. “Other than it’s Monday.”
“I screwed up with a manuscript and sent it down the line—I realized the
mistake when I was checking on something Saturday, and I tried to pull the
plug, but it was already in the next stages.” She was pale, eyes darkening as
she looked out the window.
“Mistakes happen.” I nudged her foot with mine. “We all make them—and
you caught it, right?”
She smiled back. “Yeah, sure.”
She didn't seem convinced, however.
I nudged her toe again. “You caught the mistake. Worse things have
happened. It will be okay.” Leaning forward, I said, “Now, stop biting your
nails. Tell you what…stop worrying, and we can hit happy hour on the way
home. My treat.”
“You really know how to cheer me up. Margaritas?”
“What else?” I asked loftily.
She grinned at me. “You’re like the best friend ever—the queen of best
friends.”
“Damn straight.” Happy to see the strain easing from her eyes, I leaned
back in my seat and studied her strappy black heels dotted with little hand-
painted daisies, then looked at the boring, sensible shoes I’d bought two
years ago. “I wish my feet were the same size as yours so we could share.
Those heels are adorable.”
“You say that about all my shoes.” She flexed her ankle and smiled at the
cute heels. “But these are pretty awesome, aren’t they?”
We spent the rest of the ride talking about shoes and debating the best place
to hit for margaritas. As we headed into our building, we were laughing, but
Jami paled as Mr. Thomas’s administrative assistant handed her a note the
second we stepped off the elevator.
“Ms. Griffin, Mr. Thomas is waiting to speak to you. He says you need to
report to his office immediately.”
Jami’s gaze shot to mine as she accepted the folded note from Lola. With a
stiff smile, she nodded. “Of course.”
Her face had turned a pasty sort of gray, and I thought she might be sick.
I smoothed a hand down her back. “It’ll be okay, Jami. And remember…
margaritas.”
“Sure.” She gave a jerky nod and smiled in my direction, but it was vague,
and her eyes didn’t connect with mine. “Let me go see what’s going on.
You should get to work, Jess. You’ve got exciting calls to make soon,
right?”
TWO
 DERRICK

“P lease … oh , D errick , yes !”

Her nails raked down my back, lines of painful pleasure on my skin. Her
pussy clenched tight around me, and her mouth parted on a cry as she came,
but I wasn’t through with her yet.
I pounded into her, pinning her hands in one of mine as she arched up under
me. I used my free hand to tilt her hips as I rode her, my orgasm slamming
into me as she convulsed around me again.
“Fuck, babe,” I growled, grinding against her to wring out every last ounce
of pleasure we could possibly get from each other.
Collapsing, I kept my weight mostly planted on my elbows, hips jerking as
she clamped around me again, little mini aftershocks of her orgasm milking
me. I was still semi-hard inside her, and sensitive enough even through the
latex that I could feel every ripple of muscle.
“You’ll fucking drain me dry if you keep that up,” I said. Not that I minded.
She’d been an excellent distraction.
Smiling at me, pale eyes heavy-lidded, she lifted her hips, deliberately
tightening the walls of her core around me. “Happy to try.”
I couldn’t help but grin back.
She was still panting, her short black hair tousled and damped with sweat,
her small, round tits heaving against my chest. Her nipples were hard little
points that I’d licked and sucked until she’d come from just that alone. She
looked enticing beneath me, and I thought about turning her onto her belly
and pushing back inside her. Taking her from behind would give a whole
new angle…and some more titillating options to play with.
But then she put her hand on my cheek. “Hmmm…”
The affectionate caress was as effective as a splash of cold water, and my
cock went soft. I untangled her legs from around me and pulled out,
heading into my bathroom to discard the condom.
Noticing the time on the way, I went straight into the shower, my mind
already preparing for the day ahead. Fifteen minutes later, I came out to find
her curled on my bed, waiting for me. Her gaze grew hungry when she saw
I was naked, but my cock didn’t even twitch.
“I’m running late, babe,” I said with a calm smile. “If you want coffee or
something, the kitchen is down the hall. The desk will call you a car, take
you anywhere you need to go.”
I dressed quickly, aware of her watching me the entire time. The cool
expression in her light blue eyes was a far cry from the heated bliss I’d seen
only minutes earlier.
I ignored it. We’d just met the night before. She’d given me her name, but
I’d already forgotten it. She was probably calculating all the ways she could
seduce me, get me to stay, or at the very least, get an invitation back.
Not happening.
After collecting my wallet and phone, I pulled out a couple of hundreds and
dropped them by the small sparkly purse she’d dumped on my nightstand.
“Buy yourself something pretty.”
As I left my bedroom, I heard her call me a bastard.
She wasn’t wrong, but I’d never promised anything but a few hours of good
sex—and I’d delivered. I’d also been called worse.
Letting myself out of my penthouse door, I called my driver. “I’m on my
way down.”
“I’m waiting right out front, Mr. Thomas,” Raul said.
“Excellent.”
On my way out of the lobby, I stopped by the desk and let the concierge
know about my guest. “If she isn’t out in the next hour, please go up and
escort her out.”
Whitley nodded. It wasn’t the first time I’d made such a request. It wouldn’t
be the last.
That done, I headed out into the bright summer sunshine. It was time to get
to work. Aside from fucking women until they forgot their names, making
money was where I excelled.
 

I SPENT as much time in my office as I did in my apartment, and I’d

spared no expense in making this a place I felt comfortable and could enjoy
being in. My desk was custom-made and my chair was the best money
could buy. High-end electronics covered my desk, and a flat-screen
television hung on the wall above my minibar. That, of course, was stocked
with only the finest liquor. The couch against the other wall was where I
sometimes slept if I pulled an all-nighter, so it was almost as comfortable as
my bed.
My apartment was home, but my office was my kingdom.
And the king worked as hard as he played.
I skimmed the notes in the folder and considered the error that had been
made. It hadn’t cost the company much more than time, but time was
money, and I didn’t tolerate mistakes.
The supervisor had made several notes, including that this was the first time
the employee had made such an error, and the employee had notified the
editor as soon as she’d discovered it, even though it was on the weekend.
This allowed the supervising editor to stop the project before it progressed,
which saved a considerable amount of money.
However, if the employee had not made the mistake in the first place…
I closed the file and tossed it on my desk as my assistant rang.
“Yes, Anamaria?”
“Ms. Griffin is here. Shall I send her in?”
I eyed the folder. Griffin was punctual. I’d give her that. “Not yet.”
I rose and went to the coffeemaker, starting a single cup as I stared out at
the city. My office took up a large corner unit in a tall building, but there
was nothing to see outside except more buildings and gray sky.
With coffee in hand, I returned to my seat. I took a sip of the steaming brew
and flipped through the file once more before closing it.
I pushed the button to connect me to my assistant and said, “Send her in,
Anamaria.”
The door opened and the young woman who came in was tall and curvy,
with long dark hair and wide hazel eyes. Her face was expressionless, but
the way she twisted her fingers together told me how nervous she was. I
didn’t blame her. She’d fucked up.
I didn’t ask her to sit. There was no point.
“You made a mistake with one of our biggest releases we’re putting out this
year,” I said bluntly.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry. I—”
I cut her off. “I don’t care to hear excuses.”
She blinked, snapping her mouth closed but holding my gaze levelly. Hot
splotches of color stained her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. I almost
admired her for it.
“You’re fired.”
“I…what?”
Now she swayed and reached out with one hand, grabbing the chair I’d
refused to offer her. I wanted to think it was an act, but my gut said she
wasn’t that good of an actress. That just pissed me off, though.
Why did she have to do that, look all shocked, and make me feel like an
asshole? She’d made the fucking mistake. Not me.
“You heard me, Ms. Griffin,” I snapped. “You’re fired. Please empty your
desk and go.”
She swallowed, then nodded and turned, walking with slow but steady
steps, her shoulders and spine straight. She didn’t close the door.
Annoyed, I got up to do it myself and glanced toward my assistant’s desk.
Anamaria wasn’t alone. She was talking to the girl and as I reached to grasp
the doorknob, Anamaria’s gaze came to me, green eyes sharp with reproof.
I scowled but didn’t address either woman as I closed the door.
Returning to my desk, guilt tried to worm in, the file on my desk mocking
me.
“Shit,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose as a headache started to
edge in. I grabbed the file, shoved it into the basket, and called Anamaria.
She came in, brow arched in inquiry.
“Get rid of that.” I pointed at the file.
She took it. “What am I doing with it?”
“She was fired. Turn it over to personnel to be filed appropriately.”
“Reason for termination?” There was no mistaking the edge to Anamaria’s
question.
I glared at her. “She made a mistake on a project that could have cost us a
lot of money.”
“She made a mistake that could have cost us a lot of money. I see.”
Displeasure dripped from her voice and the look she gave me was nothing
short of complete disgust. Without another word, she turned on her heel,
walked out, and closed the door behind her.
Loudly.
Now the headache was real, pulsing at the base of my skull. I grabbed my
coffee, downed half of it, and glared at the door like it was directly
responsible for the pain in my head.
Neither the headache nor the weird rub of guilt in my gut disappeared. I
jerked open the top right drawer of my desk and grabbed the bottle of over-
the-counter painkillers. I washed down two with my coffee, then turned on
my computer.
Headache or not, I had work to do.
I pulled up the file for the book I’d been writing for the past few months,
hoping that this time I could get some actual work done on it. I kept stalling
on it and couldn’t figure out the problem.
My phone buzzed, and I picked it up to see it was a text from Amelia, my
one and only sibling.
The woman I’d just fired was probably about the same age as my sister, I
realized with a grimace. That flash of guilt flared back up, hotter, brighter.
She screwed up a job. I hadn’t built a billion dollars business by keeping
incompetent employees on the payroll.
In the back of my mind, I heard the echo of an angry male voice, cold and
cutting. It was a simple task, Derrick. Why couldn’t you do that one simple
task without messing it up?
My father. I silenced it with a growl.
I’d stopped accepting failure from myself—and anybody else—a long time
ago.
Reading the text from Amelia, I banished the other young woman from my
mind.
Want to grab lunch with me sometime this week?
Even though I said yes, I grimaced. I adored my sister, but she constantly
nagged me to lighten up and have fun. I did have fun. My way.
We texted for a couple more minutes, but my mind kept straying to the
project waiting for me on the computer, and I was glad when she ended the
conversation.
Leaning back in my chair, I read through my most recent notes, still unsure
of what was holding me up. I never had writer's block.
Maybe I need a fresh outlook on it.
I picked up my phone and texted Drew, my best friend, and the CFO of
Broker Publishing.
Dinner tonight? I want to bounce an idea off you.
He responded in the affirmative ten minutes later, and I grinned as I
suggested a local place we both liked. Even though it would technically be
a business dinner, I enjoyed spending time with my friend.
After nailing down our plans, I read through my notes once more, giving
myself twenty minutes on the task before calling Anamaria into my office
to update me on the day’s schedule and meetings for the week.
THREE
 JESSICA

I picked up a file of notes for a book cover conference and headed

out of my office, mind already on the meeting. I’d only gone a few steps
when I stopped, my heart hitching when I saw Jami bent over her desk,
hands shaky, face blotchy as she tried not to cry.
“Jami.” Not wanting to draw more attention to her, I kept my voice low. I
rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her, instinctively knowing that
she needed a hug. “What happened?”
“I just got fired,” she said in a quavering voice. She eased away and shot
me an apologetic smile. “No hugs. I’m already about to fall apart and don’t
want to do it here.”
“You got fired?” I gaped at her, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. I
glanced around, glad to see that no one else seemed to pay any attention to
us. “Is this over that thing we talked about on the subway?”
“Yeah. Apparently, I didn’t catch my mistake fast enough. I might not have
cost the company money, but I cost us time.” Bitterness tinged the words,
and she shook her head, anger flashing alongside the hurt in her eyes. “I
have to get out of here before I scream.”
“This isn’t fair.” Even as I said it, I knew it sounded foolish. Life wasn’t
fair. But damn it, she’d caught the mistake, and still got fired. “I’m going to
say something. This just isn’t right.”
“No.” She caught my hands, shaking her head. “I’ll find something…you
can’t involve yourself with this, Jess, not with your parents’ situation.
They’re going to need you now more than ever.”
I glared at her. “You weren’t the only person who worked on that project.
Other people had eyes on that, and they didn’t discover the mistake. You
did, and you’re the one who’s getting kicked to the curb?”
“I know.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “But this came from the top. There’s
no way around it.”
“The top…?” I clenched my jaw as I realized what she meant. “You mean
Thomas.”
I couldn’t believe it. Derrick Thomas, the owner and CEO of our publishing
house, had fired my best friend, himself.
Mother. Fucking. Bastard.
She nodded jerkily and looked around, as if expecting him to suddenly
appear and demand to know why she was still here.
I wouldn’t have put it past the asshole, but no one was nearby.
“You can’t risk jeopardizing your job over me,” she repeated. “I can’t have
you worrying about me.”
Anger burned in me, and I squeezed her hands. Damn it, she was right. As
much as I wanted to help her, I could only spread myself so thin. “Fine.
We’ll talk about this later. We’ll do happy hour at home so we can vent and
drink as much as we want.”
“Get ice cream,” she said. “I’m going to need it, and there’s no way I can
handle a conversation with Mrs. Yen if I try to swing into the store right
now.”
Mrs. Yen rang the little grocery store where we did most of our light
shopping, and she was a sweetheart, but she was also a gossip who could
talk your ear off—definitely not who I wanted to see on a crappy day.
“Chips and salsa from our favorite place,” I said. “Then tequila for the
margaritas and three kinds of ice cream. We’ll make ourselves sick. Sounds
like fun. You go home. Take a bath. Sleep. Cry.” I hugged her, furious but
not knowing how we’d fix this. “We’ll figure out something.”
She nodded, turned to her desk, and continued putting her things in a box
methodically. I felt awful. I wanted to stay with her, but I had the cover
conference, which was happening…now. Shit. I was already running
behind, and after this meeting, I was supposed to meet with the agent
representing Bristol Hayden, the author I hoped to sign soon. Even if I
didn’t care about my job, other people were relying on me, and I couldn’t
let them down.
With one last worried look at Jami, I slipped into the elevator to head to the
conference room one floor up. Thankful that the elevator was empty, I used
the short ride to regain my composure. My reflection in the elevator door
was warped, but I smoothed down my shoulder-length curls and checked
my dress for wrinkles. I was fair enough that my cheeks were still
noticeably flushed, but I still looked presentable.
Hopefully, Derrick Thomas wouldn’t be around to make assumptions or fire
me for not being early to a meeting. I was only being half-sarcastic. Jami
was right, after all. I needed to hold on to my job.
But I wasn’t sure I could avoid glaring a hole through Derrick––the dick––
right now. If he appeared at this meeting, I didn’t know if the consequences
would be enough to keep me from doing or saying something I’d regret.
I’d never liked Derrick Thomas, exactly, but this was the first time I felt
actual hatred toward the man.
Gorgeous, scary, and an exacting prick who didn’t tolerate a single mistake.
The sort of man who would pick a scapegoat to fire rather than addressing
an entire group of people to determine how to prevent a future mistake. I
sighed and shook my head as the elevator doors dinged open.
 

 
“Do you think Bristol could write several books in a similar vein?”
Imani Anders, a tall, statuesque woman with a laugh as bold and bright as
her smile, beamed at me, looking delighted that I’d asked.
“Ms. Ellis, not only could she—my client is dying to do just that. She has
outlines for two more books and notes for at least one more.”
“Ohhhh…” Excited, I leaned forward. “Care to elaborate?”
Imani pursed her lips and echoed my posture. “Absolutely…once we have a
contract offer.”
I laughed. “I completely understand.”
I took a moment to look at the manuscript I’d printed on Friday. I’d spent
the weekend reading it and making notes, which I skimmed now as I
flipped through it. It excited me to represent Bristol, but I needed to temper
that to avoid showing too much of my hand.
“She’d do well on a book tour, don’t you think?” I said, moving on with the
next item on my list of things to talk about. “A small one, of course, since
this is her first book, but if we move forward, we could get some buzz
started on Booktok, and get some interest through early reviews. I’ve got a
good relationship with quite a few bookstores in the city and along the east
coast.” Thanks to my parents, I had personal relationships with dozens of
bookstore owners. “We’d have to keep it small, but I think we could do it.”
Imani’s eyes lit up. “Bristol would be a wonder on tour. She’s the most
dedicated woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with, Ms. Ellis.”
“Please. Call me Jessica—or Jess. I feel we will talk a lot in the future.”
Genuine pleasure lit her eyes, and she smiled. “Then you’ll have to call me
Imani.”
A half-hour later, I left the coffee shop and headed back up the street to
Broker Publishing.
I had a good feeling about this project. Our women’s self-help line
desperately needed a book like this to gain some traction. With a little luck,
that was exactly what I planned to do.
Back at work, I ran a hand down Jami’s now empty desk and swallowed
hard. Our friendship had begun the moment we’d met at NYU and became
roommates. It’d seemed almost too good to be true when we’d both landed
a job here not long after graduation. She was the closest thing to a sister I
had, and it was killing me knowing I would not see her every day at work
now.
I’d help find her something else—something better—I’d make sure of it.
I headed into my office to sort my notes for the Bristol Hayden deal. We
needed to come up with a budget and marketing plan, get everything sealed
up nice and tight before presenting the offer.
I could make her a star. I knew I could. Put this book up there with the big
dogs.
And maybe, just maybe, that would help me figure out how to save my
parents’ store too.
FOUR
 DERRICK

A table outside on the patio wasn ’ t my favorite way to dine , even in

decent weather, but I’d been so irritated by my fit of stupid guilt that I’d
forgotten to tell Anamaria to call and reserve a table.
When Drew and I arrived at the restaurant, the place was buzzing. The
maitre d apologized and led us to the only available table where we sat,
tucked up against a rustic brick barrier separating us from the sidewalk
traffic.
“Stop scowling,” Drew said with a chuckle, his bright blue eyes full of
amusement. “You can suffer through an hour of rubbing elbows with the
masses.”
“You’re an asshole,” I told him.
“I’m a delight,” he replied. “And everyone knows it.”
The asshole was right. I might’ve been the public face of Broker Publishing
and Drew was the brains, but anyone who actually knew the two of us
always preferred him over me.
Well, unless they wanted a great fuck. In that case, the ladies came to me.
He skimmed the menu and then placed it on the table. “I think I’ll try the
special.”
I perused the menu another minute, then took a long drink of the scotch the
server had brought without needing my order. Our table might not have
been the best, but at least they remembered what we liked to drink.
“I assume you’re getting your usual.”
I slanted him a dark look. “Meaning?”
“Meaning…I assume you’re getting your usual.” Drew rolled his eyes.
“You’re in one shitty mood today. What happened—you had to deal with
your dad or something?”
“No.” I looked away, rubbing my forehead as my headache threatened to
make a reappearance. “Don’t bring him up. He’ll telepathically sense it and
call. That’s the last thing I need right now.”
As I glanced across the street, my eye caught a sexy red haired woman in a
form-fitting dress of pale, shimmery gray that clung to her, the cut of the
skirt designed to hug every curve. Her long strides revealed a few more
inches of sleek, toned thigh, and I gave her legs the attention they deserved.
Something about her seemed familiar. Maybe I’ve seen her at the bondage
club I sometimes hit with Drew?
“She’s a sexy little piece, isn’t she?” I murmured. “Damn, look at that ass.”
She opened the door to a shop and walked in, her delicious ass disappearing
from view before I could fully appreciate it.
“Fifteen minutes ago, you were telling me about a cute brunette with a
perfect ass.”
I looked at Drew to see him shaking his head and raised an eyebrow. “So?
There can be more than one perfect ass in this world.”
He sipped his bourbon, lowered it, and tapped his finger thoughtfully on the
rim of the glass. “You ever tire of hopping beds, man?”
“Yeah, right.” I laughed.
“I’m serious.” His lips didn’t even twitch into the hint of a smile.
“So am I.” I continued to watch the door across the street, wanting another
look at the woman. Part of it was lust, but I also wanted to confirm if I
knew her.
The server appeared with refills for both of us. “Gentlemen, what can I get
for you tonight?”
Once the server was gone, Drew turned to business. “How did the purchase
go for the building in Greenwich Village?”
“Smooth as silk,” I replied, thinking about how it’d gone down. I’d heard
about the auction before it went public and made an offer directly to the
bank. They accepted it flat-out, of course, because I’d learned from an
inside man their minimum sale price. Connections were everything,
whether a person worked in finance or in publishing.
I slid another look across the street.
“How long do the tenants have to vacate?”
I grimaced at Drew. “The bank was firm on that—insisted we give them
until the end of the year. It’s exactly what I want for our new offices, so I
had to agree, but I might try to hurry them along with some cold, hard cash.
I want us in our own place sooner rather than later.”
“We’re not forcing them out,” Drew said in a firm voice.
“I didn’t say force. I said hurry them along.” Rolling my eyes, I tossed back
the rest of the scotch and caught the server’s attention, then looked back
across the street.
My persistence paid off. The door swung open, and the woman from earlier
came out carrying a white plastic bag. That glorious red hair fell forward as
she dipped her head to look at her phone, and I couldn’t make out her face. I
still wasn’t sure if she was the woman I remembered from the club.
But damn, her body was gorgeous.
“I bet she’d be just as good in bed as she looks,” I said, turning back to
Drew with a smirk.
“Seriously?” He shook his head, a strange look in his eyes. “Will you ever
grow up? Find a decent woman and try an actual relationship someday?”
“No, thanks.” I shuddered at the idea of it. I’d seen relationships. They
brought nothing but misery. My parents were proof of that. Most of the
guys I knew were the products of similar marriages. That money trap—
I smiled, an idea hitting me.
Grabbing a pen and a little moleskine notebook from my pocket, I scrawled
a few notes. “Maybe you’re right,” I told him. “Maybe I should try an
actual relationship. Then I can prove to you how wrong you are.”
Drew lowered his glass without drinking from it, his eyes wide. “How
drunk are you right now?”
“Not a bit.” I slid the notebook across the table.
He deciphered my chicken scratch handwriting with the ease of long
practice, then pinched the bridge of his nose. I could read the disbelief on
his face before he even looked at me and I fought not to smile. The idea was
brilliant, and I knew I could get him to see it.
“You’re proposing a social experiment?” He ran his hand through his dark
waves, giving it that tousled look some women loved. “You’re going to date
some woman you pick at random and use it as research for a book on
relationships? A three-month relationship?” He shoved the notebook back
in my direction. “What a bunch of bullshit.”
“Not enough?” I shrugged and grabbed the notebook, scribbling down an
addendum. “Fine. Three months of dating, then we’ll get married…let’s
see, mmm…for maybe a year.” I thought for a moment and then nodded.
“Yeah, a year. I’ll write the book during that time. It’ll be a bit of a diary
telling men why we don’t need a woman for anything outside of sex. And
by remaining a bachelor, you’ll never have to dine at the same restaurant
twice. By my calculations, you’ll be way cheaper off in the end. All fun, no
drama.”
Drew stared at me. “You’re fucking nuts.”
“No.” I shrugged. “I’m practical.”
My idea would work, regardless of what my friend thought. I would note
every downside from the first date through the last day of marriage and find
practical ways to avoid each pitfall. I would show successful men how to
avoid getting trapped in a relationship in the first place.
The ease with which all of this came to me now explained why I’d been
stuck writing my book. I’d been waiting for the right idea. This could be my
best book ever. I’d make a mint off it and save a lot of stupid fucks from
ending up in the same trap my parents had been in. Now, all I needed was to
find the right woman for my experiment.
I couldn’t help thinking about the redhead I’d been checking out only a few
minutes ago. Logically, I knew I couldn’t find women my usual way
because those weren’t the sort of women I could convince to assist me in
my research, but I couldn’t help thinking that it’d be nice to find someone
as fun to fuck as the brunette I’d left in bed this morning. Of course, she
wouldn’t work. No, I needed to find a genuine woman who believed in old
fashioned marriages. Someone who could give me a real challenge. To
make this experiment as authentic as possible.
Tossing back my last scotch, I motioned for the check. “Now that we’ve
settled that, it’s time to figure out where I’m going to find a wife.”
FIVE
 JESSICA

I t was my usual evening to stop by my parent ’ s bookstore , but I

would’ve come anyway. Not satisfied with my parents’ bleak response
about the sale of the building, I knew if I didn’t look out for them, no one
would. And since Mom had texted me around lunch saying that they’d
gotten a second letter, this one with a few more details, I was eager to read
it.
We didn’t bother with pleasantries beyond a hug, and even that had been
strained. As we sat down together in the backroom, Mom handed me the
letter and watched as I read it, a grim expression on her face. After I
finished, I rubbed my temple and gritted my teeth.
It was, almost verbatim, the letter Gilbert Gold had given me on Friday
evening, but this wasn’t just more recent. It was colder, more formal. And
that wasn’t a surprise because it also included a name. The name of the new
owner of the building. He’d bought out everything. Everyone. The bike
shop, the barber, the bakery, the bookstore, and all the offices above those
ground-floor storefront shops. All the tenants had to vacate by the end of
the year.
Granted, it was only June, but still. Six months for people who had been
working here for years, some for decades. Six months to figure out how to
live the rest of their lives.
I looked over to the doorway where my parents had measured my height
every year since I was old enough to stand. These shops weren’t just
random places to work. Benji’s grandfather had started that barber shop in
the forties, and Mrs. Lancing’s bakery had been a staple in the
neighborhood since before I was born. Even Underhill’s Tax Services had
been in the building for more than a decade and he offered discounts to
everyone else who worked here.
Across from me, my mother sipped from her cup of coffee and tried to put
on a bright face. “It won’t be that bad, Jess. We’ll work something out.”
“Hmmm…”
I’d been keeping to non-verbal sounds as I tried to fight my building anger,
but it was a losing battle. I’d had to put the letter down or risk crumbling it
when my hands closed into fists.
Every time I thought of the name of the buyer, my wrath grew, a fire inside
me that felt like it would consume me if I didn’t get it under control.
Frankly, I was surprised the letter hadn’t burst into flames by now.
Broker Publishing.
That was who’d bought the building.
Derrick Thomas. Rat Bastard Extraordinaire.
He’d fired my best friend for a slight mistake, and now he was stealing my
parents’ livelihood. Not just my parents, either. A lot of good people were
being forced out, and I doubted any of them were happy about it.
“Um…Jess…”
I jerked my gaze up from where I’d been staring at my hands and met my
mom’s worried eyes. The shape of them were the same as mine, but her
irises were light blue instead of the light gray mine were. Still, I saw a lot of
myself in her.
“Honey, it will all be okay.” She put her hand on my arm.
“If you say so.” She needed a brave face from me, not a furious one, so I
faked a smile and reached out to give her a hug, then turned to my dad to do
the same. “If you want me to cosign a loan or anything when you find a
new shop, let me know.”
Dad hugged me even tighter. “We’re still considering our options.”
I pretended not to notice the worry in his storm gray eyes as I pulled back.
“Of course. And there’s plenty of time.”
There really wasn’t, but why the hell talk about the elephant in the room
when we could find something more pleasant to discuss?
“Why don’t we work on displays for this week’s new releases, Mom?”
She agreed, and the two of us each picked a box and carried it back out to
the front of the store. One reason I enjoyed coming in on Mondays was
because of the new releases for Tuesday.
It was a job we both loved, and it was something that would distract me
while I hopefully settled my thoughts. I wasn’t banking on it, though.
Between this and what had happened with Jami, I was so furious I couldn’t
see straight.
“I want the new Kingston here,” Mom said.
I nodded as I half-listened, the other part of my brain still obsessing over
the fact that my boss seemed to be set on destroying the lives of the people I
loved.
Had I gone and pissed in Thomas’s Wheaties without realizing it? Had I
accidentally taken his creamer in the employee break room?
Yeah, like he ever went in there. I’d never interacted with the man directly,
not even when I was first hired.
And no, it was stupid to think this was about me—it wasn’t.
It couldn’t be.
How my parents’ bookstore had ended up as a target for Derrick Thomas, I
did not know, but it didn’t matter. I was done being quiet while he went
through life like a wrecking ball in a three-piece suit.
Derrick Thomas and I were about to have the mother of all showdowns.
 
 
Come morning, I’d cooled enough to know I needed to approach the issue
with some rationality and respect.
At least to begin with.
I woke early and tiptoed through the small apartment, not wanting to wake
Jami. We’d spent the weekend eating junk food and drinking, and then
she’d spent yesterday looking for a job. She’d do the same today.
I styled my strawberry blonde hair into a twist and put on one of my
favorite dresses—a shirtdress in a pinstripe print that would have been
perfect under many men’s business suits…if it hadn’t been cut to flatter a
woman’s figure. And this flattered my figure perfectly. A wrap style, the tie
nipped it at the waist making the overall appearance both sexy and stylish. I
paired it with heels Jamie had helped me find at a high-end secondhand
store—she was a genius at such things. I always felt like I was ready for my
A-game wearing this outfit, and I even spent extra time on my makeup.
I felt ready to conquer the world when I stepped off the elevator fifteen
minutes before my work day technically began.
Even when Anamaria Reyes, Derrick’s assistant, gave me a faintly
surprised look, I felt in control. “Does he have a minute, Ms. Reyes?”
“I’ll have to see, Ms. Ellis.” She rose, looked me over, and said in a low
voice, “I love the dress.”
“Thank you.” Nothing like a confidence boost before slaying the dragon.
Or maybe poking the bear.
A moment later, she came out and gave me a nod. “You’ll have to be quick.
He has a meeting in ten.”
“Of course.” I walked in through the door she held open.
His dark green eyes, expression indistinguishable from where I stood,
flicked to me, then down to whatever was on his desktop computer, clearly
disinterested and unimpressed with my ‘A game.’
My confidence waned, and I wondered if I could go through with this.
Anamaria closed the door behind us, and I moved farther into the room,
squaring my shoulders. Think about Jami. Your parents.
“Mr. Thomas, I wanted to speak with you.”
“So my assistant informed me, Ms. Ellis.” He sounded bored. “You’re
wasting my time. Get on with it.”
He hadn’t even looked up.
Anger surged through me, and that was better than a confidence boost. I
straightened my spine and took another step toward his desk.
“I wanted to talk to you about a building you’re buying,” I said coolly.
That made him look up. I had only a second to catch the startled surprise on
his face before it settled into something smug.
“Why?” He smirked and added, “Are you interested in buying it?”
Anger burned even brighter. “No. Not all of us are rich, Mr. Thomas.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly and pushed away from his expensive desk.
“Then why are you here?” His gaze ran up my legs, and before I could
respond, he said, “That dress is awfully short for work.”
“It is not,” I snapped.
“It’s my company, and I say it is.”
I planted a hand on my hip and said, “Unless you plan on implementing a
dress code that is fair to all employees and will be enforced unilaterally, the
dress is fine. The way you’re looking at me in it is not. Sexual harassment
—look it up.”
He gave me another cool look, but to my surprise, he waved a hand. “What
building?”
“There’s a building in Greenwich Village that houses a bookstore, a bakery,
barbershop, bike shop, a tax–”
He cut me off, impatient. “What’s your interest in it?”
I went with the simplest solution. “I want you to reconsider having the
tenants vacate.”
“Why?” His eyes narrowed, and he studied me with more interest than he’d
shown before. Or, rather, a different sort of interest. “You don’t live there.”
“How would you know?” I asked.
He just lifted an eyebrow. “I looked over the tenant list.”
“Then maybe you noticed the last name of the tenants on the third floor—or
the owners of the bookstore.” Tapping my fingers against my hip when he
didn’t respond, I said, “It’s Ellis. My parents live there and own that
bookstore, and you’re booting them out.”
“I didn’t realize there was a connection.”
My stomach twisted as I asked, “If you had?”
“Not my concern.” He shrugged. “They have six months and a smart
daughter. You’ll figure something out for them.”
The cool disinterest was back, and he waved me toward the door, already
refocusing on his computer. “I’ve work to do, Ms. Ellis.”
He was such a callous asshole. It was no wonder everyone hated him if they
didn’t want something from him, and I was pretty sure those people hated
him too.
“You really are a jerk,” I mumbled.
At that, he snapped his head up. “Excuse me?”
I was done being nice and I let it all out.
“You heard me. You’re a jerk. A bully and a jackass. You fired one of your
hard-working employees after she made a single mistake. Other people had
their eyes on that project—including her supervisor—and they didn’t see
the mistake. She did, but you fired her.”
Striding to the desk, I slammed my hands down on it. The rage was burning
inside me making my face flush, but I didn’t care. The shock on Derrick’s
face just added fuel to the fire.
“I guess in your world, people aren’t allowed to make mistakes, Mr.
Thomas, but in reality, it happens all the time. And now you’re kicking
several hard-working small business owners out on their asses. My parents
put their whole lives into that bookstore. How do they start over? Mrs.
Lancing, the bakery shop owner. She’s sixty-five and just lost her husband.
How does she start over? But…hey, it’s not your concern. You’re a bully
and a jackass.”
“Are you done?” he asked mildly, having regained his composure.
“No.” It suddenly hit me. “I seriously don’t know if I can work for a man
like you anymore.”
He blinked, and I realized that out of all the things I’d said and done in the
last few minutes, those last few words had shocked him the most.
He leaned in closer, his eyes going chilly as he replied, “I’ll take that under
advisement, Ms. Ellis. You’re dismissed.”
SIX
 DERRICK

T he door slammed behind her , and I leaned back in my chair as I

blew out a breath.
That woman had just told me off, and I was sitting here with a hard-on.
That strawberry-gold hair slicked back into an elegant twist with just a few
escaping curls had made me want to mess it all up. And that dress, which
hadn’t been that short, had me convinced she would be delicious to unwrap,
preferably while sitting in my lap as I pushed my dick into her.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, reluctantly amused by my reaction.
She was a hot piece of tail. There was no denying that. But she couldn’t
have made it more obvious she hated me. And she was an employee.
Usually, either of those would be the end of it for me. Why bother wasting
time on disinterested women, beautiful or not, when so many others were
clearly willing? Why risk pursuing an employee who clearly didn’t want
me?
But that glint in her eye as she all but dared me to fire her on the spot?
Standing up for her friend, furious over her family…hell, other than my
sister and maybe my mother, I couldn’t imagine getting worked up like that
over anybody.
Or anyone being that way about me.
I picked up my phone and called Drew. “You got a minute?”
“Can it wait? Gotta finish up a zoom call.”
“Yeah, just come over after.” I hung up and tried to concentrate on work,
but it was nearly impossible.
After a couple minutes, I gave up even trying and opened the company
directory on my computer, pulling up her profile. She looked like a
consummate professional, with just the right amount of make-up and the
perfectly appropriate shade of lipstick. No amount of bland color, however,
would stop me from envisioning those flawless Cupid’s bow lips wrapped
around my cock. My balls started feeling heavy, and I groaned, tearing my
attention from her picture to read the bio and try to glean what precious
little I could from it. There wasn’t much, although there was a link to her
Facebook page, so I clicked on it.
It was the typical shit of a New York City editor, the sort of profile I’d
expect from an employee. Only things I was supposed to see. Instead of
being satisfied that she wasn’t doing anything that could embarrass the
company, I was irritated because nothing told me anything real about her.
Frustrated, I closed the page just as Drew knocked and then entered, not
waiting for a response.
He caught sight of my face and frowned. “Don’t tell me you fired another
one of our outstanding employees.”
“Shut up,” I snapped.
He settled in his usual chair and hooked an ankle over his knee. “If this is
about the Danbridge book, I’m not stepping in to help. You fired Ms.
Griffin. You fix the mess.”
“It’s not.” I picked up a pen and tapped it against the surface of my desk.
“What do you know about Jessica Ellis?”
“Other than the fact that she’s friends with Jami Griffin?” Drew cocked an
eyebrow.
“That’s irrelevant.” I couldn’t keep from snarling this time, which seemed
to amuse my friend.
His smile widened, and he linked his hands over his stomach. “Anamaria
mentioned that Ms. Ellis came here earlier today. Want to tell me why?”
My irritation grew, and I told him why she’d come. He started laughing.
“I’m so glad this amuses you,” I said dryly as I stood and crossed to the
minibar before realizing that it wasn’t even ten o’clock.
“Well, you’re clearly intrigued by her, and she all but told you to kiss her
excellent ass.”
He grinned when I glared at him for that last comment.
He shrugged. “I’ve got eyes, man.”
“What do you know about her?” I grabbed a bottle of water and paced
while I drank it, wishing it was something much stronger.
“Well, she’s got her finger on the pulse of the book world.” Drew settled
into business mode. “She’s had excellent suggestions for book launches and
revamped how we do promo, incorporating book bloggers and TikTok in a
way none of us ever thought to do.”
“I figured she was good at her job. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been
hired.” Returning to my chair, I pressed, “Do you have anything else?”
He raised his eyebrow again in that annoying way of his. “What do you
want to know?”
“Whatever you can find out.”
“Okay.” He looked even more amused as he stood. “I’ll get right on her—I
mean, right on finding out more about her.”
I didn’t like how he kept making sexual comments about her, but I let it go.
He was only doing it to piss me off. Besides, I had other, more interesting
things on my mind.
Like basking in the memory of Jessica Ellis and those snapping gray eyes
that had turned as turbulent as a thunderstorm right before she stalked out of
my office.
 
 
Jessica was still on my mind as I let myself into my penthouse later that
night.
It was a day of frustration, most of which centered on my inability to stop
thinking about her. Then there was the mess I created by letting Griffin go
when it turned out she was the one who knew that project inside and out. I
was too irritable even to consider hitting a bar for a drink or my club for a
fuck. Instead, I spent an hour in my home gym, but even a few hard miles
on the treadmill and a session with weights didn’t make it any easier to
chase her from my mind.
She’d called me a bully.
I didn’t like that.
I was doing my job. Being the boss.
The accusation made me want to bend her over, paddle that sweet little ass
of hers, and show her how much of a bully I could be.
And that thought was the one that told me it was time to be done working
out. I had a fucking iron bar in my shorts and there was only one thing that
could help with that.
My bathroom filled with steam as I climbed into the shower. Letting the hot
water pound down on my aching muscles, I imagined bending her over the
high frame of my bed, baring smooth skin that just begged to be marked.
Bringing my hand down on the curve of her ass, turning pale flesh pink.
Had she ever been spanked before?
I doubted it.
She had a powerful air of sensuality, but there was nothing submissive
about her, and if I was being honest with myself, I kind of liked it. I just
didn’t want anybody challenging me in my place of business. Especially an
employee.
I wrapped a hand around my cock, and stroked, the hot glide of water
easing the way as I fantasized about showing her exactly who was in
charge.
I’d demand she bend over my desk and pull up her dress so I could see what
she was wearing underneath, to determine if it was work-appropriate. In my
imagination, of course, she wasn’t. She had on only the tiniest of thongs and
when I tore it off, she argued, asked what she was supposed to wear for the
rest of the day.
I told her to go bare.
Then I asked if her hair was red or blonde. When she realized what I was
asking, that delicious temper of hers flared and she said it was none of my
business.
That earned her the first smack to one firm cheek.
Just the thought of the sound she would make the first time I made contact
had my cock swelling in my hand.
I wouldn’t let up after that, slowly increasing how hard my hand came
down until her soft whimpers gave way to broken cries. I’d tell her all the
things she’d done wrong, punctuated with the crack of my palm against her
ass, until she begged for forgiveness, and then begged me to fuck her.
I’d make her beg me to take her right there, bent over my desk, where
anyone could walk in and see the cherry red skin of her ass. See how wet
she’d gotten for me.
Only for me.
And she’d tell me exactly that. She’d plead for me to fill her pussy, to own
it. Own her.
But I’d tell her that bad girls didn’t get their pussies fucked. Bad girls got
fucked in the ass.
She’d argue, of course, even as I slicked a finger in her cunt and then
worked a single digit past that little ring of muscle. I could almost feel how
tight and hot she’d be around my finger. I’d tell her to hold her ass open for
me so I could watch my finger go into her. She’d say she didn’t want to, but
she’d do it, anyway.
Then, when it was time for her to take my cock, I’d start slow, easing into
her just fast enough to make it hurt, but not so much I’d actually hurt her. If
she’d never been spanked, I doubted anyone had ever fucked her ass. I’d
been the first one there, the first one to make her understand the way the
line between pain and pleasure could blur. I’d have her impaled there,
writhing on my desk while she tried to decide if she hated it…or loved it.
She’d be dripping by the time I really got going. I’d need to put my hand
over her mouth to keep her from screaming with pleasure when I made her
come. And then I’d make her say it. Make her tell me she’d come harder
with my cock in her ass than she’d ever come before. Tell me she wanted
me to come in her, fill her ass with…
With a groan, I climaxed, my vision whiting out for a brief, blissful
moment. My cum splattered on the wall and my knees almost gave out.
Fuck.
Was there any way reality could be better than fantasy?
Somehow, I thought, with Jessica Ellis, it might.
As the water washed away the evidence, I stared through the steam-resistant
glass at my reflection in the mirror across the bathroom.
I had to have her.
That’s just all there was to it.
SEVEN
 JESSICA

S everal hours had passed since my disastrous meeting with D errick

Thomas, and I was still unsettled and angry. I’d hadn’t dared to let myself
hope for any specific outcome but if I had imagined one, what’d happened
in that office wouldn’t have been it.
The man didn’t care about anything.
Somebody makes a mistake, and they get written off.
An older couple, established in their life in a bookstore that’s part of a
community, about to get uprooted and…so what? Dozens of people’s lives
upended and ruined all because one man was an asshole.
What made some people so…cold? More importantly, what made Derrick
Thomas that way?
Yet, I wasn’t mistaken that I’d seen a glimpse of…something in his green
eyes. It’d been fleeting, but still…
I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about that or Mr. I Don’t Care About
the World one minute longer.
“I’m heading out for lunch with Bristol,” I told Lola.
She nodded, looking more frazzled than I’d ever seen her. My division
shared her as an administrative assistant with the imprint that did
biographies. That department was in an uproar since Derrick Thomas had
fired Jami. The Danbridge project was the most important book coming out
of the imprint this year and they were now several weeks behind.
Would he fire me too? I mean, I had made no mistakes, but I called him a
bully…among other things. Definitely fireable offenses in most places of
employment, let alone with a boss like Derrick Thomas.
I will take it under advisement.
What exactly had he meant by that?
His coolly worded statement irritated me all over again.
Alone in the elevator, I muttered, “I’m going to enjoy the damn lunch.”
I headed to the restaurant with a determined smile.
For the next hour, I would not think about my asshole boss.
And I didn’t. All of my attention was on Bristol and her book. In her early
forties, Bristol Hayden’s book on dating advice might’ve been dismissed as
a single woman’s mid-life crisis, but I’d seen much more in it and in her.
After a successful meeting, I left the restaurant full of hope, but when I
returned to the office that afternoon, everybody was on edge.
All I wanted to do was go home, soak in the tub, and read. A fun book that
didn’t make me think about anything but passionate sex with a damaged but
sweet firefighter.
But that would not happen. My mom had set me up on a blind date. A ‘very
nice guy’ and we had so much in common, she’d told me.
The life experience translation? Likely not.

“YOUR MOTHER TOLD me you were beautiful, Jessica, but I still wasn’t
prepared,” my date said as we settled into the corner booth. Carl Hughes
was blond with blue eyes and a smile that might have been charming if it
wasn’t for the sleaze behind it. He slid closer to me than I would have liked,
and I was glad I’d taken the space on the outside. As the server came to take
our drink orders, I smoothly slid a couple of inches to the right and put my
purse in the space between us. Carl noticed, but I gave an innocent, bland
smile.
I’d picked a place close to the subway so I would have a quick exit if
needed.
“I hear you work in publishing,” he said as the server walked off. “Hoping
to be an editor?”
“I am an editor,” I replied, sipping from the ice water in front of me. “I head
up the women’s self-help division at the publishing house where I work.”
“Oh, really?” A condescending smirk curled his lips. “Not children’s
books?”
Oh, I wanted to hit him. “We currently don’t have a children’s books
division—something I’d like the publishing house to remedy, but they’re
relatively new, so hopefully, they’ll tackle it later down the road. Children’s
publishing is a hugely important field, you know.”
“Oh?” The smirk remained in place.
“Absolutely. Kids introduced to books early in life do better in school.” I
took another sip of my water, staring at him with flat disregard. “It all starts
with reading.”
He made a couple more attempts to start a conversation, first about my
work, then moving on to his. He was a day trader, and after my
noncommittal replies, he became ruder. “So what do you do to have fun?”
he asked after the server brought out the appetizer he’d ordered and my
salad.
I explained I rarely had much time for fun, but as his comments grew more
vulgar, I calculated the cost for my food and drink—I wasn’t staying any
longer than necessary. Halfway through my salad, I excused myself, taking
my purse with me and ducking into the bathroom. I freshened my lipstick
and texted Jami with an SOS.
He smiled when I returned and sat back down, and I suppressed the urge to
roll my eyes. No, honey. I didn’t go to the bathroom to primp and touch up
my lipstick for your benefit. Instead, I smiled back, already feeling more
relaxed.The phone rang exactly two minutes later, and I picked it up with a
frown. “I’m sorry…it’s my roommate. I better make sure everything is
okay.” I turned the volume up loud enough so he could eavesdrop.
Carl picked up his beer, although I saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes.
“Jess, I’m so sorry, but the water pipes just burst—everything is flooding.
Please, I need you to get back here as fast as possible!” Jami said, her voice
panicky and worried.
“Oh, no!”I was already fumbling money out of my purse before she even
finished apologizing. Five minutes later, I was heading down into the
subway station to catch a ride back home.
I’d call Mom and apologize. Maybe, if I were lucky, she’d listen this time
when I told her to please…stop setting me up on blind dates.
EIGHT
 DERRICK

“S o , what did you learn ?”

Sitting across from me, chopsticks in hand, Drew quirked a brow. “You sure
as hell are impatient. I haven’t even had my first bite.”
“You’re the one who showed up late. I don’t have all day.” Taking a sip of
sake, I waved a hand. “Take a bite, then talk.”
We were at our favorite sushi place on a quick lunch break before heading
back to the office and it wasn’t because I’d been craving it. Drew had
dodged me all morning, only agreeing to meet if we came here. And then he
was late.
He ate a few bites of salmon roll, took a sip of sake, and finally leaned back
like he was ready to talk. “You know, having me spy on an employee is a
new low for you, my friend.”
“You do it every day,” I reminded him. “You’re the only one who knows
everything about every employee.”
“No, I don’t.” He actually looked offended. “I don’t spy because I don’t
need to. I know our employees because I’m nice and I talk to them. I build
connections with them. Relationships. If you actually talked to the people
who worked for you, took an interest in their lives, maybe you’d know a
thing or two and wouldn’t have to come to me to find out what you want to
know. It’s not my fault you prefer to sit up in your tower and refuse to
mingle with the little people.”
“Yeah, well, fuck you, too.” I scowled and took another drink of sake.
He only laughed at my response, taking a sip of his before picking up the
chopsticks and pointing them at me. “Well, if you were looking for your
polar opposite, you couldn’t have picked anybody better. Jessica Ellis is
everything you’re not.”
Somehow, I didn’t think he meant that as a compliment and it made my
words come out harsher than I intended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, for one, she believes in marriage and happily-ever-after.” He hitched
up a shoulder in a shrug. “You’re a bachelor for life.”
My eyes narrowed. “And how did you find that out?”
He gave me a slow smile that said he saw far more than I wanted him to.
“Easy. She has a dating profile, and I looked it up.”
My curiosity almost led me to ask the website's name, but I quickly
dismissed the idea. Online dating had never been my thing. If I wanted to
ask someone out, I would do it in person. Not hiding behind some stupid
profile.
“I’m guessing you already know the professional stuff,” Drew said.
I nodded and made a gesture for him to hurry up.
“She's had a few interviews on blogs and TikTok, probably why she’s so
good with marketing and PR. And her parents own a bookstore where she’s
worked since she was a kid.”
I already knew that too.
“According to her dating profile, family is her first priority, but she also
considers her career to be important,” Drew continued. “She enjoys reading
– which makes sense for obvious reasons – going to the theater and baseball
games. When asked what she’s looking for on the site, she said, ‘a partner
who wants to spend the rest of our lives building a happily-ever-after.’”
Shit.
He took another bite of sushi, chewed, and washed it down with water
before continuing. He glanced at my plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
I’d forgotten I even had food. How did I go about getting the woman in my
bed if she was the happy-ever-after type? Fuck.
“So, when are you going to tell her?” he asked.
Downing the sake in my cup, I poured the last in the bottle and debated
ordering another.. “Tell her what?”
“That you want to ‘fake’ marry her?”
I leaned back, surprised at his question. “Marry Jessica Ellis? Are you nuts?
Didn’t you just explain to me that she is the total opposite of who I am?
Opposite of everything my books teach?”
“Come on. You like her. Don’t try and pretend that’s not why you asked me
to look into her?” He shook his head. “It makes her perfect for your little
social experiment when you think about it. You have your view on what
relationships and marriages are and why they’re a waste. She has a
completely opposite viewpoint. A real challenge makes for a better book.”
“You think so?” I sipped on my drink and turned the idea over in my head. I
did want the experiment to be the real thing.
After a minute or so of silence, Drew added, “You can put your opinions up
against hers and see if you can find ways to counter whatever arguments
she makes. It’ll make for a better book, and I know you like a good
challenge.”
I nodded in agreement. I did love a challenge, and his reasoning was sound.
“It could work…if she agrees to it. This book could be huge. Bigger than
anything we’ve done before,” he said.
And that cinched it.
“That’s what I like about you, Drew. You keep your eye on the bottom line.
Let’s do it.” Toasting him, I drained my glass, and decided I didn’t want
more to drink or eat. I had plans to make.
Drew set down his glass. “We’d have to be very careful with how things are
worded. There can’t be any question of consent to come back and bite us in
the ass. It all needs to be legal and aboveboard. No possible loopholes.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “It’ll all be professional. Business contracts written
and checked by legal. We’ll negotiate with Jessica. She’ll agree to our
terms, and in return, we’ll offer her something she wants.”
The best part was, I already knew exactly what she wanted, and I was the
only person who could give it to her.
“And if you end up hurting this woman?” Drew asked, his voice somber.
“How? She has everything to win and nothing to lose. How could she
possibly get hurt?” I pulled out my wallet and dished out a couple of bills.
“What does it matter, anyway? She already thinks I’m a jackass. I can only
work up from here.”
 

 
Forty-five minutes later, the rough draft of a business plan lay in front of
me, and Anamaria was escorting Jessica Ellis into the office.
I’d had my assistant bring in some croissants from the bakery across the
street, and as Jessica took a seat, Anamaria offered coffee. Jessica declined,
her face a polite, professional mask, although a hint of wariness lurked in
her eyes. I could only imagine what Jessica thought she was doing here.
Once Anamaria closed the door, I smiled at the woman across from me.
She didn’t return the smile. Crossing her legs, she smoothed a hand down
the front of a pair of slim-fitting trousers that ended a few inches above her
trim ankles. They were a cheerfully bright shade of green. Too bright, in my
opinion, and paired with a patterned top of white with detailing in the same
green with some hot pink thrown in. It was bold and I wondered if she’d
done it purposefully to look different than how she did yesterday. The fact
that her hair was down, a riot of curls reaching just below her shoulders.
One thing, however, was the same. She looked cool and collected, her lips
unsmiling. She still didn’t like me. As I continued to study her, her mouth
tightened slightly.
My cock twitched, remembering my vivid imaginings about those lips.
“If I’m being fired, Mr. Thomas, please just come out with it and say so. It’s
a pretty nice day, and I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of it outside if I
have the time off.”
The words were delivered in an implacably polite tone, and I suspected that
if I told her, yes, I was firing her, she’d just collect her purse, head out and
go for a walk in Central Park. She’d also end up hired by another publisher
before the end of the day and become competition. That was the last thing I
wanted right now.
“No, Ms. Ellis. I’m not firing you,” I said, not caring for the idea of her
working under someone else. “In fact, I have a business proposition for
you.”
“Really.” She lifted a cool brow. “If this is about the Danbridge project, I
can’t help you.” One corner of her mouth twitched. “Or rather, I won’t help
you.”
I clenched my jaw, then immediately relaxed it, reminding myself of the
real reason she was here. “Of course not. That’s being handled.”
“Hmmm.” Her lips did curve into a smile at that, and I had a feeling I’d just
amused her at my own expense.
I ignored it and the way it’d made my cock harden. “No, this is something
altogether different—and if you agree, it could fix everything for your mom
and dad’s bookstore.”
That knocked the smile off her face and something like hope flashed in her
eyes before she composed herself.
She lifted her chin. “And how could it do that?”
“I’m working on my next book.” I waited for a response, but she didn’t look
even remotely curious.
“It requires a bit of a…social experiment.”
“And how does that involve me?”
“It’s quite simple.”
She’d say yes. She had to. She desperately wanted to protect the store that
was her parents’ legacy, and this would do it.
“I want you to be a participant in my experiment. For the next three months,
we date, and then we get married for the period of one year, after which the
experiment is completed, and we’ll divorce. In return for your participation,
your parents will get to keep their store. And, they can keep their apartment,
too.” Smiling a little, I added, “I’ll also make your position in our company
as editor in the women’s self-help department permanent. You’ll be able to
sign any new talent you see fit.”
Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward slightly. “Are you on drugs?”
NINE
 JESSICA

He didn ’ t look crazy .

But this proposal was the most batshit thing I’d ever heard, so he had to be
nuts, right?
Except…
It would fix everything for your mom and dad.
“I don’t know you,” I said. My voice came out calm and level, despite the
erratic beat of my heart and the nerves twisting through my belly. This was
only the second time I’d ever been alone with this man, and he was
essentially proposing to me as a business proposition.
“That’s what the three months of dating are about.” The condescension in
his voice pissed me off. “We get to know each other.”
“And what if we decide we can’t stand each other after that?” I paused, then
added, “I’m already not particularly fond of you, and I don’t see that
changing any time soon.”
“You’re pissed because I fired your friend. That was a business decision.”
He didn’t seem perturbed. “You’re making it personal.”
Okay, if he wanted to make this just about business, then fine. I’d call him
on his bullshit there then.
“It was a bad business decision,” I retorted. “There’s never just one set of
eyes on a manuscript, which you should know since you run a publishing
house. Human beings aren’t perfect, Mr. Thomas. If you want perfection,
work with robots.”
His eyes darkened, a faint smile appearing on his face as he watched me. It
threw me off since I hadn’t expected it, but I wasn’t about to let it show. I
put my hands on my hips.
“You have absolutely no trouble speaking your mind, do you?”
“No.” I lifted a challenging brow. It was obvious he wasn’t used to having
people speak so bluntly to him. He was intimidating, sure, but his bullshit
had pushed me past the line, and once I crossed the line, there was no going
back. He’d lost my respect.
“I like a woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”
Yeah, right.
“And that’s your basis for marriage?” I asked, trying not to smirk. “I like a
woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind?”
“It’s a start.” He shrugged. “And remember, this is a social experiment. We
won't end up stuck with each other ‘happily ever after.’”
“That’s a relief,” I said dryly.
His smile widened, and he looked almost…relaxed—more handsome, less
distant, and austere. My heart skipped a beat, but I ignored it. This wasn’t a
man to be drawn to. Definitely not a man to marry, even for a social
experiment.
But…
My mind started to register all the little things around me. Yes, he looked
more relaxed at first glance, but I could see his fingers tapping on the silver
pen next to his hand, as if he wanted to pick it up. And even though he was
sitting back in that freakishly expensive chair, I could feel a sort of tension,
like he wanted to lean forward and grip my hands, hold me there until I
gave him the answer he wanted.
No, the answer he needed.
I crossed my arms. “How important is this to you?”
He hesitated, as if unsure how much he should tell me. “Very.”
Points for honesty at least. Let’s see what he did with what came next.
“Then I want more than just security for my parents’ bookshop and a job.”
He picked up the pen and started tapping it, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“Really? A permanent position in my publishing house isn’t enough?”
Time for complete transparency for me too. “I’m not even sure I want to
keep working for you, so no, it’s not enough.” I could find another job. But
there were other things I wanted guarantees about before I agreed to
something so completely insane. “The rent on my parents' bookstore. It
needs to be lowered. Over the last five years, it’s almost doubled, and––”
“Deal. Not a problem,” he replied quickly.
“I’d also like Jami Griffin rehired.”
“Did you have a former life where you haggled in back street markets?” he
asked, an unexpectedly wry smile appearing on his face. “Because you sure
know how to drive a hard bargain.”
“I know what I want,” I said simply.
At that, his smile faded, replaced by a look of such intensity my mouth
went dry. Damn. What would it be like to have that focused on me under
other circumstances? Like in bed…
“So do I, Ms. Ellis.” He cocked his head, considering me for a moment.
“Okay, I’ll agree to rehire Ms. Griffin, but she’ll be your editorial assistant.
Your responsibility. If there are future mistakes, you’ll be the one who fires
her.”
Something about the expression on his face made me think that this was a
challenge, to see if I could accept that sort of responsibility, or maybe to see
if I was going to stand by my request if it meant I might have to fire my
friend.
“Understood.” Mouth still dry, I hesitated, then asked the one question that
had been burning at the back of my mind from the moment the idea of
marriage had been presented. “What about…intimacy?”
He smirked. “Are you asking if I expect sex?”
I blushed, my fair complexion no doubt now the brilliant red of a boiled
lobster. “Yes, to be blunt.”
“No, Ms. Ellis. I’m not paying you to sleep with me.” He actually seemed
amused by my question. “That would be illegal. Your time and commitment
for fifteen months are what I’m paying for. That’s all.” His eyes glittered
but he smoothly added, “I won’t ask for anything sexual.”
“All right.” That was one less thing to worry about, but I had another
concern that needed to be addressed. Not letting him intimidate me into
looking away, I said, “Regardless, I won’t do this if you plan on humiliating
me by bed-hopping and leaving me home like a kept woman every night. To
me, marriage means monogamy, whether you’re able to have sex with your
partner or not.”
“I can respect that.” He tapped the pen again, once, twice, his eyes still
watchful, as if he could see clear through me. “Do you need time to think
about it?”
I should. I really should. I was a sane, responsible twenty-seven-year-old.
Agreeing to a spontaneous social experiment proposal from my boss
without taking more than just a couple minutes to ask a few questions.
“Is my parents' store safe if I accept this? There’ll be a contract? Legally
binding.” The questions came out without me really thinking about them. I
needed to hear him say it again.
“Absolutely.”
“Okay.”
His eyes lit up, a combination of relief, confidence, and something hotter
that made my stomach twist.
Me, I was just a bundle of anxiety. My chest felt tight. I needed to get
somewhere I could take a deep breath, maybe panic. But not here. Not in
this lavish office where he held all the power.
I continued in a stronger voice. “If everything in the contract is exactly
what you promised, I’ll sign it.”
He smiled widely and set down his pen. “Excellent. I’ll make sure it'll be
ready by Friday, and you can sign it then. We’ll have our first date Friday
night.”
I walked out of his office in a daze. I’d always had very specific standards
when it came to the romantic relationships in my life and hadn’t dated much
because of them. Something like this had never even occurred to me to
consider, and now that I’d agreed to it, I could feel doubts wanting to creep
in. I wasn’t going to change my mind, not with so much on the line, but it
was going to take me a little while to get used to the idea of dating – and
eventually marrying – Derrick Thomas.
TEN
 DERRICK

M y best friend was on the phone when I walked into his office , and
he held up a hand, indicating he’d need a minute, then pointed to a chair. I
got myself a cup of coffee and grimaced at the taste. The man couldn’t
make coffee for shit, despite the fact that he had the latest in coffeemaker
technology. Still, I needed the caffeine, so I took it with me and sat down,
stretching my legs out in front of me and waiting for the call to end.
I looked around his office, unable to stop myself from comparing it to mine.
He’d had the same budget because I couldn’t have my CFO’s office looking
shabby. Not that it did. It was just…different than mine.
He’d gone with a glass and metal, modern style that fit with all of the latest
tech that he’d surrounded himself with. Not only did he have a flat-screen
television, but it had all the bells and whistles available, and every time
something new came out, he added it. I appreciated technology, but Drew
loved everything about it. Even the blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling
windows worked on a remote with more options than some televisions had.
The moment Drew’s call ended, I smiled at him and said, “She agreed.”
At first, he didn’t seem to realize what I was talking about, but then he
shook his head and leaned back in his chair, amazement written on his face.
“You already talked to her?”
“Yes. I don’t know why you’re surprised.” Hitching my shoulder, I said,
“You had a good idea that I knew would work, so I acted on it.”
“Do you ever doubt yourself, Derrick?” he asked with a wry smile before
answering his own rhetorical question. “What was I thinking? You’re
Derrick Thomas. You don’t know what doubt is, especially not with
women.”
“This is a business arrangement,” I reminded him.
He waved a hand. “Tell me more about this arrangement you made with
Ms. Ellis.”
“Three months of dating, then we’ll get married for one year.” I told him
about the bookstore, then the other caveats she’d pushed for, my admiration
for her spirit coming through loud and clear.
He chuckled. “Well, she knows how to go after what she wants, I’ll give her
that.” Speculation in his eyes, he asked, “What about sex?”
“I told her I wouldn’t push for it.”
“So you don’t want to sleep with her.” He clearly didn’t believe me.
I gave him a flat look that said he knew me better than that.
“Of course you do,” he said with a sigh. “You won’t push for it – you’re too
good a man for that – but you’ll do your damnedest to get her to ask for it,
which isn’t the same thing.”
“I figure it’ll take a few weeks to coax her into bed with me.” Shrugging, I
added, “A little longer to convince her to fall in love with me, and I’ll work
around getting her into BDSM when it feels right.”
He gave me a hard look, the glint in his eyes no longer completely friendly.
“You plan on getting her to fall in love with you.”
“What’s the point of the experiment if she’s not convinced she loves me?” I
didn’t understand this sudden problem he seemed to have. “We want it to be
real.”
“But if it’s a business proposal and everybody benefits, nobody gets hurt.
That’s what we agreed upon. And it sounds like that’s what you arranged
with Jessica. Business.” Drew stood and walked over to the coffee pot. He
picked it up, but then just set it back down again. “You do realize some
people have feelings, Derrick. We’re not all made of stone.”
“You’re the one who suggested her in the first place,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, so you could learn something from her,” he retorted, his tone sharper
than I’d ever heard it. “Not so you could hurt a nice woman by fucking with
her emotions in the name of your experiment. I’ll end up partially
responsible, and you know what? I don’t like it.”
“Jessica’s getting what she wants out of it,” I said, my own irritation
beginning to show. “Her parents get the damn store—rent-controlled—
possibly for decades, her friend gets her job back, and Jessica gets job
security. So what if it comes with a bruised ego for a little while?”
He stared at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I waited for some
smart comeback, but he just looked at me as if I was a stranger, time
stretching out until I began to feel uncomfortable. Finally, he shook his
head.
“I’ve got meetings.”
The disappointment in his voice was faint, but I knew him well enough to
hear it and it hurt more than I liked. We needed a little space before either
of us said something we’d regret. I stood, secretly relieved he’d decided to
go that route rather than push the issue. I didn’t want my closest friend
pissed at me over something so stupid.
“Want to hit the club with me after work?” I chanced a smile. “Might be my
last time for a while.”
“No.” He gave me another cool look as he returned to his desk. “Jessica
may end up surprising you. She might decide she’ll never sleep with you.”
I grinned. “That won’t happen.”
“We’ll see.” Then he turned his attention to his computer, making it clear
the conversation was finished.
 
 
A few hours and two glasses of high-end scotch later, I tried to forget the
frustrating meeting with my best friend. It should have gone smoothly.
Drew should have been on board with all of this. I was doing this for the
book and our business. He was my damn friend and business partner. He
should have trusted that I knew what I was doing.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and tossed back the last of my drink. I was
in one of the city’s most prestigious sex clubs and I was still brooding over
a conversation that hadn’t gone my way.
When I opened my eyes, I turned my attention to the stage where a show
was already in progress.
A rather large, very naked, well-endowed man had tied a voluptuous to a St.
Andrew’s cross and spent the last ten minutes using a cane to lay perfectly
parallel stripes across her back and ass. Her skin was so pale that the red
lines showed up beautifully and I couldn’t help wondering if those sorts of
marks would be just as obvious on Jessica’s body.
The man set down the cane and picked up a flogger. As he settled into place
behind her, I smiled, knowing exactly where the Dom was going to aim.
The woman cried out as the thin straps came up right between her legs.
Even from where I was sitting, I could hear the crack of leather against
skin.
I liked using toys on my submissives, but the man on stage was a true artist,
not just bringing pain and pleasure to his partner, but turning her skin into a
canvas. I appreciated the vision, but my tastes tended to be a little more
primal. For me, causing a sub pain wasn’t my pleasure. It was the control
that got me off. That I needed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement coming in my direction
and looked away from where the Dom was putting aside his flogger and
stroking his massive cock in a way that told me he was ready to get down to
fucking.
The woman who now stood less than a foot away from me, however, held
my attention more than the show. She was tall and slender, wearing a sheer
baby doll dress that hid absolutely nothing. The silver bracelets on both her
wrists would’ve told me that she was a sub even if her demure attitude and
downturned eyes hadn’t.
She glanced at me, not making eye contact, but it was enough to tell me that
she was interested. Intrigued, I snapped my fingers and she instantly
dropped to her knees, placing her hands on her knees, palms up, her eyes
downcast.
I leaned forward and ran a finger along her forearm. “Do you have a
Master?”
She shook her head. “No, Sir.”
“Do you want one for tonight?”
“Yes, Sir.” She spoke in barely a whisper, but there was no hesitation in her
voice.
“Shall we go somewhere to discuss your limits?” I stood and held out a
hand.
She took it and stood. “Yes, please, Sir.”
“Right this way, doll,” I said.
I’d never played with this woman before, but I hoped she was ready for a
long night. If I was going to have to be celibate for a few weeks, I needed to
get enough tonight to tide me over.
ELEVEN
 JESSICA

H alf a dozen outfits were strewn across my bed , each one chosen
and discarded in my search for the perfect thing to wear tonight. I needed
something that would let Derrick know that I was my own person and
didn’t plan to change who I was for him, but a part of me also wanted him
to find me attractive.
I was pretty sure my pale blue dress with the sweetheart neckline and mid-
thigh hemline would do the trick.
“You look amazing,” Jami said, leaning against my bedroom door, her
pretty face set in a decidedly unhappy scowl. “You should change. I’ve got
some sloppy sweats and an old gray t-shirt that would work better.”
I laughed, which I knew was what she was going for.
“I hate that you had to agree to this just to get my job back,” she said with a
sigh.
“You would’ve done the same thing for me,” I said.
“And you’d like it about as much as I do,” she shot back.
“True,” I agreed. I smoothed down my skirt. “But, it wasn’t just your job,
you know. I’m doing this for my parents too.”
“I know,” she said, her expression softening. “I’m grateful for it, I really
am. But you know your parents will be pissed too.”
“Which is why we’re not going to tell them,” I reminded her.
I looked back at my reflection and tried to convince myself that I was okay.
I’d barely had forty-eight hours to process the fact that I was going to date
and then marry Derrick Thomas and the hardest part so far had been
projecting complete confidence in my decision. And I’d have to keep that
façade up through the entire ordeal. If my parents had even a hint of doubt,
it’d ruin everything.
I needed a plan to tell them, but there was no rush. I’d decided to see how
tonight went first. For all I knew, it would be a complete disaster and he’d
be sorry he asked me to partner with him in this.
A loud buzz made my brain stop its incessant spinning. Derrick was outside
the building. My heart lurched into a sudden, panicky race, threatening to
jump out of my chest.
“Well, he’s timely,” Jami said, turning away. “Although I can’t say I’m
surprised. He’ll probably dock you merit points or something if you’re
late.”
I laughed with her, but my stomach knotted with even more anxiety. At this
rate, I doubted I’d be able to eat a single bite.
After one last look in the mirror, I turned off the light and left the room. I
went straight to the buzzer, not wanting him to get impatient. Based on
what I knew of his temperament, the last thing I wanted was to start the
evening out on a bad note.
“I’ll be down in just a minute,” I told him.
“What floor are you on?” he asked in response. “I’ll come up and get you.”
Jami rolled her eyes and flopped down on our worn couch, picking up the
remote. She didn’t protest and I didn’t want an argument, so I told him to
come up and then went to get my purse and checked to see if I had
everything I needed for a night out.
The knock on the door came just seconds later, and I went to let him in.
Jami studiously wasn’t looking at me and I felt a stab of guilt. Opening the
door, I offered a smile, but the sight of him had my heart fluttering
desperately in my chest despite my determination to keep everything
business. He wore a deep gray suit, the color so dark it was almost black,
paired with a shirt nearly the color of his eyes. No tie, and his shirt was
open at the throat, baring several inches of tanned skin.
Damn.
His gaze met mine, then slowly drifted down over me before returning to
my face. “Jessica, you look amazing.” The subtle warmth in his eyes, so
different from his ordinarily impenetrable expression, melted things inside
me and totally destroyed my ability to think.
“Hi.” I clutched at the doorknob. Suddenly, I couldn’t move.
Behind me, I heard the increased breathing, the low moans and the rough
sounds of physical intimacy coming from the TV. Having this man standing
here while that played in the background…my thighs clenched.
And then, Jami, damn her, called out, “Oh, hey, Jess, is that your date?
Invite him in.”
Face hot, I stepped aside and turned away. “You can…just…whatever. I
need to grab my shoes.”
Derrick entered, and as I walked away, I could feel his eyes on my back. In
the six months I’d worked for him, I’d never been this aware of him.
Jami, her voice overly bright, said, “Well, hello, Mr. Thomas. Want to sit
down and watch TV for a minute while Jessica gets her things?”
I slipped on my shoes and spun around. “I’ve got everything, Jami, but
thanks.”
Derrick glanced at the TV and then at Jami, his face pleasantly blank.
“Maybe another time.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Jami called as Derrick led the way out the
door.
I had a feeling that, if I needed something tonight, it’d be something no one
would be able to provide. I was venturing into unknown territory here, and I
was on my own.
 
Halfway through dinner, I finally started breathing easier. For the first date,
Derrick suggested we keep it simple. Dinner, somewhere close to my place,
so we could walk there and back and have time to talk.
I expected him to talk about something related to the subject of his next
book, since that was the reason we were doing this in the first place. I had
yet to even learn of the main focus, but I’d glanced through his first book
when I’d gotten my interview at Broker Publishing, figuring I should have
some idea about what my CEO had written, but I hadn’t been impressed. He
offered advice to men on dating, money, single life, and sex, and no doubt
his next book would be in a similar vein.
Why he had to have experience with marriage for his next book I didn’t
know since he’d never addressed the subject before. Then again,
considering he was making a business arrangement for marriage, I didn’t
think I was going to agree with whatever it was he was going to put in his
book.
I believed in love—the real thing.
He believed in one-night stands and getting rid of women as quickly and
cleanly as possible.
But, instead of jumping right into why we were here in the first place,
Derrick kept the conversation focused on ordinary things for two people on
a first date to discuss. I stiffened when he mentioned my parents and the
bookstore, and he took the hint, shifting away smoothly as if those brief
moments hadn’t happened.
By the time the server cleared the salad plates, I finally relaxed a little, and
that was when Derrick asked his next question. Maybe that was why it
caught me off guard.
“I don’t watch TV, but does Ms. Griffin like throwing all of your visitors off
their stride, or was that little performance just for me?”
Startled, I looked at him, heat creeping into my cheeks.
Annoyed and embarrassed, I picked up my wine and took a sip, half-
wishing that I’d ordered something stronger. “I’m sure the performance was
solely for you, which you already knew.”
“You seem…irritated.”
And he seemed amused. Which just pissed me off even more.
I gave him a cool look. “You just tried to put me on the spot because Jami
doesn’t like you, Derrick. That’s a shitty thing to do to anyone, let alone
someone you want to date.”
And marry.
But I left that part unsaid.
His eyes narrowed slightly, then, to my surprise, he gave me a nod, his
expression softening. “You’re right. I apologize.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. This night just kept
getting more surreal.
At my look, he frowned. “What?”
“You just apologized.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Should I take it back?”
I considered the question, wondering if I should answer seriously or try to
lighten the mood. Banter was safer, I decided. I’d been distracted by how
good he looked, but this just reminded me of the man he really was.
Definitely banter.
“Probably.” I kept my voice dry but let a hint of humor touch my lips.
“Something tells me you don’t do it often, and you shouldn’t give me the
impression you have any little human foibles.”
“Hmm.” He reached across the table and took my hand.
Just that light touch had my pulse racing, and it got worse when he rubbed
his thumb over the inside of my wrist, my heart thudding against my
ribcage. Heat spiraled out from where our skin touched, flooding my nerves
with sensations that I was prepared to deal with.
“I’d hate for you to look at me and realize I’m human, Jessica.” The humor
in his voice was laced with something that sent a shiver down my spine. “A
very human man…with human desires.”
He winked at me, and I pulled my hand back. I liked him touching me a
little too much, and it was only the first date. I had told him no sex, but if
one little touch this early in our relationship could make me feel all those
things, I needed to keep our physical contact to a minimum.
“You said you don’t watch tv.” I changed the subject. “What do you do
instead?”
He took a drink of his wine and leaned back in his seat. “I work.”
I rolled my eyes. “And when you’re not working?”
His eyes darkened. “I play.”
Somehow, I didn’t think he meant sports or video games.
“How is everything?” The server smiled down at us, completely unaware of
what he’d interrupted.
Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d interrupted.
“Another glass of wine for each of us,” Derrick said without taking his eyes
off me. “And the dessert menu.”
As the server went off to get what Derrick requested, I shifted the subject to
something that didn’t have my stomach twisting in knots.
“What are your hobbies?”
“My hobbies?” Derrick actually laughed.
I gave him a pointed look. “You do understand how dating works, don’t
you? We get to know each other. See what we have in common. Find out
what sort of things we might enjoy doing together.”
His eyebrows went up and his eyes brightened. It didn’t take a genius to
know what thoughts my last comment had prompted.
I pointed at him. “Keep it clean. This is our first date.”
He raised his hands, palms up, and gave me the sort of charming smile that
I was sure had lost many a woman her panties. “I like to read.”
“Let me guess,” I said, “you read certain magazines for the articles.”
He laughed. “I like biographies and classics in a variety of genres.”
As we settled into a conversation about literature, I expected the tension
between the two of us to ease, but it didn’t. Our words and tone were
casual, our topics all safe, but I continued to be acutely aware of him. The
way his feet occasionally touched mine under the table. How his gaze
would slide over me with more weight than should have been possible. The
times he’d lean forward to impart some particularly interesting bit of
information and brush his fingertips against mine.
I’ve had pleasant dates before, but I’d never felt sparks on a first date with
anyone. Never had that instant chemistry that was such a part of fictional
love stories.
Until tonight.
Not that this was love. And I wasn’t going to let it get that far either. I might
agree to marry him in three months, and then spend a year as his wife, but
we wouldn’t be doing it for love.
And we sure as hell wouldn’t be sharing a bed. Chemistry be damned.
I maintained distance between us even as we made our way back to my
apartment a while later. I paused at the door into the building, but he simply
gestured for me to keep going. While I supposed he could’ve just wanted to
ensure that I reached my apartment safely, the fact that he moved close to
me with every step we took told me that despite what he’d said about no
sex, he fully expected me to invite him inside.
When we reached my door, I stopped and turned toward him, ready to tell
him that the night had reached its end. I hadn’t, however, counted on him
standing so close. His scent had been teasing me all night, and now it
washed over me. Something spicy and undeniably male, it made my
stomach twist, but it didn’t change my mind.
When he leaned in, I put my hand on his chest.
“We’re not doing this,” I said, keeping my voice flat.
“Doing what?” He covered my hand with his, and under my palm, I felt the
rapid rhythm of his heart, the heat of his skin.
The thought popped into my mind as to what he’d look like naked, that
firm, wide, chest bare, his large body stretched out over me. Clenching my
thighs together, I banished the image and focused on turning him down.
“Sleeping together,” I said. The words came out slightly shaky, and I
cleared my throat. “That was part of the deal, remember? I’m not sleeping
with you.”
“The deal was you don’t have to sleep with me.” He continued to press his
hand to mine, thumb stroking over my skin. “It doesn’t mean we can’t.”
I pulled my hand away. “We won’t.”
His eyes locked on mine as he leaned down, moving slow enough that I
could have stopped him. Instead, I let him keep coming and then his mouth
was on mine. No other part of our bodies touched as his lips moved over
mine, his tongue teasing its way into my mouth, methodically staking his
claim.
When he took a step back, I was breathless, and my knees were shaking.
His eyes blazed, but he appeared otherwise unaffected. “I suppose we’ll
see.”
As he walked away, only one thought echoed in my mind.
I was so fucked.
TWELVE
 DERRICK

A melia came sailing up to the table wearing a bright yellow dress

with white polka dots, white shoes with yellow polka dots, and a smile even
more cheerful than the outfit. As she delivered a smacking kiss to my
cheek, I wondered at the fact that we were even related. We had the same
color hair and eyes, but I didn’t do cheerful or warm greetings—hell, I
barely smiled.
But my sister was all about those things. Somehow, she had grown into a
warm, sweet woman despite a childhood where our father mostly ignored
us and our mom felt forced to dole out affection in small, closely guarded
doses for fear of being accused of spoiling us.
Amelia dropped into the chair and eyed the tumbler in front of me.
“Drinking already?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere. Isn’t that a saying?” Despite my flippant
response, I pushed the glass further away rather than taking another drink.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a song, and it’s barely noon.”
I didn’t want to tell her I was trying to take the edge off a hangover caused
by too much whiskey the night before. After going back to my place – alone
– I’d imbibed a little too much to help me sleep because that single kiss
with Jessica had left me more turned on than I’d been in a long while. I’d
barely touched her all night, and I was dying to have her under me.
Was that it? The chase? Was it because she wasn’t falling all over herself to
get in my bed? Sure, she agreed to date me and marry me, but she’d stated
in no uncertain terms that she had no plans to sleep with me.
Still, she hadn’t stopped me from kissing her.
“Earth to Derrick!”
Jerking my head up, I found Amelia resting her elbows on the table and
looking at me with a wry smile.
“Am I that boring?” she asked. As our server approached, she gave him a
charming smile and asked him, “Do I look boring to you?”
“Don’t answer that,” I told the young man before he could speak, and then I
scowled at my sister. “You’re never boring.”
“We need a few more minutes,” she said to our waiter. “Thank you,
sweetie.”
The guy flushed and hurried away. Amelia barely noticed, but that wasn’t
anything new. She rarely understood the effect she had on guys, particularly
the impressionable ones.
“All right, big brother,” she turned back to me, “tell me why you’re staring
a hole through the table.”
“I was just thinking about my new book.” Knowing she’d lose interest fast,
I leaned back and picked up my scotch.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh. That.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.” Tipping my drink toward her, I said, “You’ll
hurt my feelings.”
“You’re a pick-up artist, darling brother.” She paused in her conversation
with me as the server came back. After giving her order, she continued, “I
love you dearly, Derrick, but if I met a man like you—”
“I’d beat him senseless,” I cut in with a chuckle.
Amelia deserved to be wined and dined, cherished and worshiped. She
wasn’t like the women I hooked up with.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Am I so different from every other female out there
—so precious that I deserve respect, but others don’t?”
“I…” Hating that she’d just put my thoughts into words, I put the glass on
the table and gave her a dark look. “That’s not what I said. And you know
that I’m always upfront with the women I’m with. I never make promises
that I don’t keep.”
“I know.” She smiled a little, but her eyes were still a little sad. “That’s the
worst part. You should. You could make somebody so happy if you’d try
trusting people every now and then. Maybe somebody could even make you
happy.”
“I’m happy with my life like it is,” I said, fighting the urge to snap at her. It
was clear to me that she just wanted me to be happy, not understanding that
I didn't want the same life as she did.
“Fine.” She huffed out a breath. “Let’s change the subject. You’re getting
snarly on me.”
I wanted to argue that point, but decided not to bother. She wasn’t wrong,
after all. “Mom texted that you two went to the opening night for that play
you’ve been talking about. Was it any good?”
Her face lit up, and I relaxed, settling back to listen as she broke into a
detailed explanation of the production.
I smiled, listened, and enjoyed just being with her.
She was wrong about me not trusting people. I did trust—her and Drew. I
didn’t need anyone else. Certainly not a certain woman with strawberry
blonde curls and a sharp tongue.
Just as Amelia finished a complete summary of the final scene in the play,
my phone rang. Not wanting to be rude, I excused myself and headed
outside to answer the call. Fortunately, the work issue was easily and
quickly resolved. Instead of heading straight back to my sister, however, I
took a short detour.
“Well, hello there.”
As I exited the restroom a few minutes later, a warm purr of a voice greeted
me, and I looked over to where the words had come from. The woman
walking toward me was petite, the top of her head reaching not quite to my
shoulder. As she approached, I caught the scent she wore, something rich,
feminine, and sexy as hell. Her dark hair spilled down her back in thick
waves and her eyes were an inviting shade of blue. I recognized her from
the club.
“Hi.” I gave her a polite smile and waited to see what she would do next.
She wet her lower lip and tilted her head back. “Any chance you’re alone?
Or…if you’re not, maybe you’re available later?”
She was sweetly curved, poured into a vibrant dress the color of
blueberries, all round and lush. I was tempted—damned tempted, especially
since I’d spent too many hours last night thinking about Jessica and wishing
I’d tried harder to talk her into inviting me in.
But then, like water splashing on tissue paper, the idea fell apart. I’d agreed
to exclusivity, sex or no, and I honored my promises. “I’m afraid I’m not
available at all. Not for the time being, anyway.”
She reached up and traced a finger along the line of my collar. “Oh, well.”
With one last smile, she turned and walked away, her hips swinging while
the dress outlined an ass that would have filled my hands to perfection.
“Shit.” I blew out a breath and adjusted myself. I’d have to work harder to
get Jessica into bed because I wasn’t sure I’d survive fifteen months of this.
Heading back to the table, I cleared my expression and considered asking
my sister if she wanted to catch a movie. It’d been a while since we’d done
more than lunch and a movie would be a distraction that wouldn’t remind
me of my bleak, sexless future.
As I rounded the corner, a figure standing next to my table made me pause.
Narrowing my eyes, I took in the long, lean figure of a guy with a full tattoo
sleeve smiling down at my sister. She tilted her head to look up at him and
the look wasn’t unfriendly. Fine. I’d be unfriendly enough for both of us.
Amelia glanced in my direction, an absent gesture before she went back to
smiling at the stranger, but as I drew closer, she stilled, then turned back to
me with a frown that said she knew what I was about to do, and she didn’t
approve.
Too fucking bad.
The man in front of her finally noticed that he didn’t have her full attention,
and he tossed a look in my direction, a faint smile before he spoke to my
sister again. “Your brother?”
“Yes.” She gave me a pointed look, which I ignored and focused back on
the guy.
“Who’s your friend?”
“We just met, Derrick.” She gave me a narrow smile and a meaningful look.
Be nice.
I arched an eyebrow, giving her a message of my own.
Hell, no.
“Got a name?” I asked him mildly.
“Ah…Kevin.” He hazarded a smile that wasn’t quite as wide as the one
he’d been wearing just a minute ago.
The man had at least some semblance of intelligence. He’d realized that
something had shifted in the power dynamic here.
“Okay, Kevin. You got a job?” I smiled back like a shark. “An ex-wife?
Kids? Child support? Where do you live? Got a girlfriend tucked away
somewhere?”
He took a step back, his smile disappearing. “Dude, what the fuck?”
“If you’re hitting on my sister, I want to know who you are,” I said,
shrugging. “About that job? And don’t lie. I have more resources than you
can imagine and only one sister to protect.”
He shot Amelia a regretful look. “You know what, I’m running late.”
My sister’s face was red as Kevin walked away without a backwards
glance. “You’re an asshole.”
“He’s not good enough for you,” I said, picking up my glass of scotch and
draining it.
“Again…you’re an asshole.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked
away.
She wasn’t wrong, but then again, neither was I. Nobody would be good
enough for her.
“If he was really that interested, he wouldn’t have been scared away by a
couple questions,” I said.
“That wasn’t a couple of questions, Derrick.” Amelia hissed, fury flashing
in her eyes as she turned back to me. “That was a fucking interrogation.”
“Little sister,” I said as I leaned toward her. “We both know that if I wanted
him to face a real interrogation, he would be.”
“You know, I’ve always wondered what you would do if the shoe was on
the other foot,” she said.
“I love you, sweetie, but even if I did date, I doubt you’d scare away
anyone.” I tried not to think about what would happen when I finally had to
introduce Jessica to my family. I hadn’t factored any of that into my
brilliant plan.
She stood. “I’m going to powder my nose.”
And then she left me sitting at our table. I was going to need to be very
careful how I introduced Jessica and Amelia, or my social experiment was
going to blow up in my face.
THIRTEEN
 JESSICA

I bit my lip nervously as I opened the email from B ristol ’ s agent ,

Imani. The email had an attachment, which I assumed was a good sign
since it was probably the promised proposal and three chapters from the
woman I wanted to sign.
Even as I clicked to open it, I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes, not
quite brave enough to read it yet.
“Is it good news or bad news?”
Embarrassed, I looked up, saw Jami standing in the doorway, one hand on
the door jamb while she grinned at me. I knew some people in the office
had been speculating how she’d gotten a job here again, but even that
couldn’t keep Jami and I from enjoying being able to work closely together.
I supposed I should get used to it, because once the rumors about Derrick
and I started flying, things would switch from what Jami had done to earn a
place back at Broker Publishing to the closer-to-the-truth question of what
I’d done to get her as my assistant.
I pushed those thoughts away and focused on her question. “What?”
“You’re holding your breath. So are you expecting good news or bad
news?” She came around the desk and cocked an eyebrow.
When I didn’t shoo her away, she read over my shoulder while I covered
my face with my hands. I was a force to be reckoned with most of the time,
but this had me absolutely petrified. I didn’t know what I’d do if Bristol–
“The proposal is here.”
Excitement flooded me, and I squealed, smacking her hand out of the way
when she went to scroll through the email.
She laughed. “I guess you hadn’t gotten around to actually reading the
email.”
“I was preparing myself,” I shot back.
She just laughed and went to sit down in the chair across from my desk,
waiting for me to need her. She might have been in a different position than
the one she’d started out in, but she was damn good at her job, regardless of
what she was doing.
I quickly skimmed the email, knowing I wouldn’t remember half of it until
later. I processed enough to know that Bristol Hayden wanted to work with
me.
I downloaded the file, then forwarded it to Jami. “Got your phone?” When
she nodded, I added, “Read the rest of it and tell me what you think.”
Barely ten minutes passed before a polite knock sounded at the open door. I
glanced up, my mind still on the work in front of me and froze when I saw
Derrick leaning against the door frame, suit coat unbuttoned, one hand in
the pocket of his trousers, and a cool smile on his lips.
That mouth…I shivered at the memory of it on mine.
“Ah…hi,” I said warily. We’d neglected to discuss how we were going to
handle this thing at work and I had no idea how to talk to him right now.
He glanced at Jami, then at me. “Reading something interesting?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” As much as I wanted to share with him, I wanted
to make sure everything was in order first. So far, it looked to be as brilliant
as I’d hoped, but I didn’t want him to regret having agreed to it as part of
our deal.
Instead of asking for details, he just gave a nod, then said, “We’re going to
lunch.”
In front of me, Jami shifted, and I caught a glimpse of the expression on her
face, but I kept my focus on Derrick as a flare of annoyance cut through my
previous joy. “Oh, we are?”
“Yes. Did you need a moment to finish up with your assistant?” He moved
farther into my office, and the space seemed to shrink by half. “I’ll wait.”
I stood and placed my hands on my desk. “Jami, if you’d give Mr. Thomas
and I a moment. Thank you.”
“Of course,” she said in a sugary sweet voice. “I’ll be right outside.”
She closed the door behind her, which I appreciated from a privacy aspect,
but it made the space suddenly seem even smaller, and I imagined I could
smell Derrick’s cologne from where I stood.
“I don’t think a quickie at work is the best idea, but I’m game for it.”
Derrick grinned at me and took a step in my direction.
I held up a hand and he stopped. “You can’t just barge into my office and
decide we’re going to lunch.”
“I can,” he said. “And I just did.”
“And that’s the last time that’s going to happen.” I squared my shoulders.
“Oh, is it?” He sounded amused, but I saw a spark of something in his eyes.
“I won’t be ordered around just because we’re dating.” I held my ground.
“You’ve always respected your employees as long as they were doing their
job, and I expect nothing less. In fact, because this is supposed to lead to
marriage, I expect more respect and courtesy from you.”
He crossed his arms. “And what, exactly, does that entail? I am still the
CEO of this company, and I won’t have my people thinking you’re leading
me around by my cock.”
His words made me flush, but I didn’t flinch. “While we both know I won’t
be getting anywhere near your cock, I understand what you’re saying.” I
thought for a minute and then continued, “How about this? When it comes
to work-related matters, I don’t want you to speak to me any differently
than you did before we made our little agreement, but when it’s something
personal, you ask rather than command.”
He studied me then, his expression unreadable. “Is that an order?”
I flushed. “Don’t be a jerk.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I got the distinct impression that he
was trying not to laugh. Somehow, that managed to piss me off and amuse
me at the same time.
“All right,” he said suddenly. “Will you have lunch with me?”
Taken aback that he’d agreed so quickly, I stammered out, “Oh. Okay. Sure.
Just let me grab my purse.”
As we left my office, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d really won that round
or if his concession was just a set-up for something else. It wasn’t as if I
knew him well enough to tell and that thought haunted me the entire way to
the restaurant.
 

 
“I take it Jami still doesn’t care for me,” he said after the server walked
away.
We sat in the corner booth of a bistro that was way too pricey for my
budget, but he’d asked me, so I assumed he was paying. He’d paid the other
night too, and since this wasn’t a real relationship, I refused to feel guilty
for not offering to pay like I normally did for the first couple dates.
Picking up a glass of water, I shot him a look over the rim.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but at least you noticed.” Appreciating the humor in his eyes, I sipped
my water before adding, “Please understand, I’m not going to tell her how
to feel about you. She’ll be professional at work, but outside of that, you’re
going to have to figure it out on your own.”
Personally, I wondered if it really even mattered. It wasn’t as if there were
double-dates and future holidays stretching out in front of us.
“Maybe I want her to like me because she’s important to you.” He brushed
a finger down the back of my hand.
I didn’t really care for the shiver it sent through me—or the sparks of heat it
threw off. No matter how much his kiss had made my head spin, getting
attracted to him was not in the plan.
“Why?” I pulled my hand back and, under the guise of being hungry, I
picked up my fork and dug into my salad. “This is a business arrangement
for fifteen months, not a lifetime commitment.”
He chuckled and the sound slid over my skin. “I thought you’d be more of a
romantic. Believing in true love and all that.”
As I took a bite of the chicken Caesar salad, I considered how to answer
him. “I do believe in love, and I like romance, but my feet are firmly
planted on the ground.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to be swept off your feet?” Derrick
sounded genuinely curious, which surprised me.
I answered him honestly, “It means it’ll take a lot more than empty flattery
and impersonal gifts to do the sweeping.”
“Noted.” He stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. “So what sort of gifts
should I get you?”
I nearly dropped my utensils. “What?”
He raised his eyebrow. “I know there are some things about this
arrangement that aren’t going to be like a real relationship, but I fully intend
to treat you as I would any woman with whom I was involved. That means
gifts.”
I shifted in my seat, unsure how I felt about this man buying me things.
Bargaining for something in exchange for helping him with his ‘social
experiment’ was business. We even had a contract drawn up. But it was
supposed to essentially be a relationship.
“Let me make this easier,” Derrick said. “Are flowers allowed?”
I nodded. “I like daisies.”
“Chocolate?”
“Only dark. I don’t like milk or white.” He was right, this was easier.
“Lingerie?”
My eyes shot to his and found those dark green depths full of heat and
humor, a heady combination.
“If you don’t mind buying me something you’ll never get to see me use,
sure.” I pulled apart a piece of bread and popped a chunk into my mouth.
“Need me to send you my measurements?”
“You could just model a few pieces for me,” he suggested with a smirk.
Before I could figure out how the hell to respond to that, our server returned
to refill our drinks. By the time he left again, I’d decided that a change of
subject was in order.
“Jami and I were reading the proposal from Bristol Hayden when you came
to my office,” I said, hopeful flutters dancing in my chest as I thought about
the book. “I only had a few minutes to look through it, but it’s got a lot of
promise.”
“That’s good.” He checked his watch and reached for his coffee. “Are you
free this weekend?”
Deflated when he didn’t engage further about Bristol, I asked, “When?”
“Saturday evening. There’s an event I’d like you to accompany me to. But
if that doesn’t work, I’d still like to see you at some point.” He had a hot
glint in his eye as he added, “That’s what dating is about, isn’t it? Spending
time together?”
“I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.” The words came out of my
mouth, but I barely registered them. Being seen in public wasn’t the same
as going to an event together.
As we finished up our meal, the conversation stayed on work, but Derrick
didn’t ask about Bristol’s book, which disappointed me enough that it was
still at the forefront of my mind when we arrived back at our building.
You’re the one in charge of the imprint, I reminded myself as we rode the
elevator up to my floor. The doors slid open, and I turned to smile at
Derrick and thank him for lunch, but he placed a hand on the small of my
back, sending a shiver up my spine.
“I’ll see you to your office.”
“Oh…okay.”
Feeling like everybody was watching us, I stayed quiet as we crossed the
office area. Jami’s desk was empty, as were several others, but more than a
few people subtly glanced our way, and I was acutely aware of their interest
as I came to a stop at my door.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said, keeping a polite smile in place as I turned to face
him.
“You’re welcome.” He wasn’t smiling as his eyes dropped to my mouth.
I sucked in a breath, and in the next blink, his lips were on mine, one hand
gripping the underside of my jaw in a sure, firm hold. Thrown off balance, I
grabbed the front of his shirt.
He made a low murmur of approval and angled his head, deepening the
contact. He traced my lower lip before sliding his tongue into my mouth,
tasting me. Savoring me.
There was no other way to describe it.
I groaned and clutched his shirt more tightly, dazed at the unexpected heat,
the intoxicating brush of his mouth. I’d convinced myself that my reaction
to his kiss the other night had been a fluke. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
He ended the kiss, gave my bottom lip a quick nip, and stepped away.
“I’ll be in touch about this weekend.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, dazed. But I didn’t hear what he said. Not really.
My head was too busy spinning while my heart raced in overtime.
FOURTEEN
 DERRICK

T aking J essica to the fundraising event for my family ’ s foundation

was the perfect chance to impress her, show her that I was more than the
asshole boss who’d fired her friend and bought her parents’ building,
destroying their business.
She was proving harder to impress than I’d expected. It was…interesting
having to work to get her to relax around me. I hadn’t had to chase a
woman in…hell, years.
But I wanted to feel those legs wrapped around me. Her pussy, soft and wet
around my dick. Her hands in my hair as I went down on her. Then I
wanted to teach her to be a sub, lay there while I stroked her, or use a toy
until I allowed her to climax.
And knowing how much she’d fight the idea of submitting just turned me
on even more.
“Thoughts like that are why you have to walk up the damn steps with a
hard-on, Derrick,” I muttered as I did that very thing, trudging up the steps
with my dick so hard, it hurt.
I had two bouquets, white daisies for Jessica and yellow roses for Jami,
which should’ve been the other way around, but I’d been listening when
Jessica spoke. Jami hadn’t thawed in the least. It pissed me off, but I
couldn’t order her to lighten up. She was rehired. What the hell else did she
want?
Still sexually frustrated, I cleared my head before knocking, fixing a smile
in place. If I could make a good impression on Jessica tonight, dance with
her, maybe get her alone somewhere, I might be able to convince her to
waive her ‘no sex’ rule.
With that idea in mind, I knocked and waited. She opened the door a minute
later, looking back over her shoulder as she did so. That brief moment gave
me enough time to gather my wits because she’d pretty much shattered
them the moment that door opened.
Fuck.
That dress. If I got her in a secluded area, was it loose enough I could work
it up over her hips and bury my dick inside her? Yeah, I thought it was. But
if not, maybe, I could coax her to go down to her knees. Either option
sounded good.
“Derrick?”
Dragging my eyes upward, away from soft curves draped in a pale,
shimmering pink that was disconcertingly close to the same shade as her
skin when she blushed, I met her gray eyes and found that she was, indeed,
blushing.
“You look good enough to eat,” I said, not bothering to filter what I was
thinking. “And I want the whole fucking banquet.”
Her lashes flickered, and the faint flush deepened. I couldn’t help but notice
that the slopes of her breasts had also flushed a lovely shade of rose, and I
wanted to stroke the skin with my fingertips and see just how soft she was.
“Did my words make you…uncomfortable? Or something else?”
“I think I’ll skip answering that,” she said, voice husky.
Instead of pushing, I offered the flowers.
“Oh…” A breathy sound of feminine pleasure escaped her, and she took
them, fingers delicately touching the petals.
Damn. I wanted those fingers on me.
“Come in for a minute so I can put these in water,” she said, looking up at
me with a smile so luminous it hit me in the chest.
Wait, what the fuck was that?
Uneasy, I hesitated, but then stepped inside when she looked back at me.
No. I hadn’t felt that smile in my chest. Maybe lower, as I imagined seeing
that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick, but that was it.
Jami was curled up on the couch with a book and barely glanced at me.
“These are for you,” I said, offering the roses.
She lifted an eyebrow as she accepted them, but there was no softening in
her eyes, and definitely no smile. “Thanks.”
She rose and went to join Jessica, and I watched them fill vases for the
flowers. At least Jami hadn’t tossed them on the couch and gone back to her
damn book. I’d take whatever progress I could get.
Jessica’s smile meant more. It wasn’t the same professional smile I’d seen
from her during most of our interactions. It was softer and gave me hope
that I could get past her defenses and get her into my bed, if not tonight,
then soon.
I was eager to discover a whole new set of things about her. What she
looked like under that dress. The sounds she made when she came. How
prettily she could take my cock in her mouth. Her pussy. Her ass.
“I’m ready,” she said as she came back over to me.
I held out my arm and she took it. I thanked the stars that it was June, and
she wasn’t going to cover up that dress with a coat.
As we made our way down the stairs, she asked, “I did a little research after
you told me about your family’s foundation, but I thought you could tell me
a little more about what they do so I don’t come across as completely
ignorant.”
I could honestly say this was the first time any woman had ever said
anything like that to me. On the rare occasions I brought women to events
with me, they mostly wanted to know the people they’d be meeting, what
everyone would be wearing. While I hadn’t expected her interest, once I
thought about it, it didn’t surprise me. Jessica was an intelligent woman
who didn’t pretend to be otherwise.
I smiled as I realized I might actually enjoy this evening for something
more than the anticipation of what might come after.
 

THE LAST FEW minutes of our drive to The Beekman, Jessica and I
discussed what we’d tell my family about our relationship. I definitely
didn’t want any of them knowing this was a business arrangement, even
though I had a feeling my father would approve of that more than a real
relationship. I couldn’t risk one of them accidentally saying something to
the wrong person and I knew the truth wouldn’t sit well with the general
public.
So we’d stick with something simple and fairly close to the truth. We’d say
that we’d met at work, hit it off, and had been on a few dates. As our
relationship progressed, it would seem natural to my family, and when we
divorced after a year, I’d just say that we weren’t compatible.
My family knew me well enough that they’d easily accept that as the whole
truth.
If Jessica was anxious about meeting my family, she didn’t show it. Her
composure was flawless as we entered the event room, and she didn’t even
blink at the virtual who’s who of New York high society who filled the
guest list. Politicians, philanthropists, old money and new, all coming here
to see and be seen.
“Derrick! Good to see you, my boy.” Senator Fitzpatrick clapped me on the
shoulder with a hearty laugh and then turned his attention to Jessica. “And
who is this lovely lady?”
“Yes, Derrick,” a dry voice came from behind me. “Do introduce us to your
date.”
My smile tightened as I turned slightly to acknowledge the silver-haired
man coming over to stand next to the senator.
“Good evening, Father.”
I felt Jessica tense, but her expression didn’t change from the pleasant,
bland mask that I recognized from some of her interactions with me.
“Senator, Father, I’d like you to meet Jessica Ellis. Jessica, this is Senator
Douglas Fitzpatrick, a longtime family friend, and my father, Bertram
Thomas.”
She held out her hand to the senator first. “Pleased to meet you, Senator.”
I clenched my jaw as Fitzpatrick held her hand a little longer than
necessary, but she didn’t complain, so I held my temper.
“And Mr. Thomas. A pleasure.”
I could tell by the surprise in my father’s hazel eyes that Jessica had given
him the sort of firm, professional handshake that was more common in
business than it was at something like this. He took it as a compliment
though. He might’ve had specific opinions towards women when it came to
relationships, but he respected the ones who were just as work-minded as he
was.
Not that Jessica was anything like Bertie Thomas.
Thank God for that.
“Derrick, darling, I’m glad to see you.” Mom suddenly appeared in front of
me, and I leaned down automatically to let her kiss my cheek.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Jessica Ellis. Jess, this my mother, Gloria
Thomas.”
“Mrs. Thomas.” Jessica smiled at her. “I can see the resemblance.”
We got that a lot. Both Amelia and I had gotten our dark brown hair and
deep green eyes from our mother, as well as quite a bit of our bone
structure. Aside from our height, we hadn’t gotten anything from our dad.
“You’re a pretty thing,” Mom said with a smile as she kissed Jessica’s
cheek. “Where did my son find you?”
That wasn’t a question I really wanted her to answer, especially in front of
my dad, but it’d come out sooner or later. Maybe it was better to have this
talk in public where Dad would have to control himself.
“She works at Broker Publishing,” I said. “And before you ask, no, she’s
not my assistant.”
“Love.” Senator Fitzpatrick chuckled. “Sometimes we find it in the
strangest of places, don’t we?”
I stiffened and felt Jessica do the same. “We’ve only been on couple–”
“My wife and I met when my frat dared me to steal a goat from the nearby
high school’s 4H program,” the senator kept going, “Guess who the goat
belonged to?”
“Senator,” Dad interrupted. “There are a few people we need to speak
with.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Senator Fitzpatrick said to Jessica. “I hope to see
you again soon.”
My hand went to the back of Jessica’s neck without me really thinking
about it. A possessive gesture that surprised me as much as it did her, but
neither of us pulled away. I’d never felt conflicted like this before. Like I
wanted to show her off, but also wanted to make sure everyone knew that
she was mine.
“Jessica, dear, what is it you do at my son’s company, exactly?” Mom
asked. “I have a literacy foundation, you see, and I’d love to get the opinion
of a woman in the industry.”
Jessica’s eyes lit up. Silently, I cursed. The last thing I wanted was for my
mom and Jessica to form any sort of real relationship. I didn’t need to worry
about Dad. He didn’t do relationships, not even with his kids.
Mom…hell. Not long after Amelia graduated from high school, it became
quite clear that our mother regretted having nannies and boarding schools
raising my sister and me. She loved us, but she still didn’t really know us.
Every time one of us brought someone around that she hoped could be a
connection to us, she clung to them.
After exactly two minutes, I cut into the conversation. “Mom, Alma
Strucker just arrived. Isn’t she one of the speakers you were hoping to nail
down for the luncheon this year?”
My mother paused mid-sentence and looked at me, startled. “What was
that, Derrick?”
I angled my head toward the woman in question. “We’ve taken up enough
of your time.”
My mother fixed a perfect, plastic smile in place, hiding whatever else
might’ve been in her eyes. “Of course, darling. Thank you for coming.
Jessica, it was lovely meeting you.”
As my mother walked away, I took Jessica’s hand. She gave me an odd look
but said nothing as I led her to where my sister was talking with a couple of
her friends. I’d seen Amelia slip in earlier but hadn’t had a chance to find
her. Now, as her bright laugh echoed above the chatter, I felt some of the
tension in my chest ease. I didn’t like being around my family, save for
Amelia. I wanted her to meet Jessica.
Amelia caught sight of me and smiled, only noticing Jessica a minute later.
My sister’s eyes widened slightly, and she didn’t wait for us to reach her.
Instead, she excused herself and hurried over, hugging me quickly before
giving the woman next to me an expectant look.
“This is Jessica,” I told her before she could ask. “Jessica, this is my sister,
Amelia.”
“Jessica.” Amelia gave her a warm smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Jessica brushed her hair back and looked at me before offering
a shy smile to my sister. “I didn’t know Derrick had siblings.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “He likes to pretend he sprung into the world being
fully formed and wearing an Armani suit.” Glancing at me, she said, “Get
us drinks. We’ll be talking on the balcony.”
I opened my mouth to object, but Amelia was already walking away,
pulling Jessica along in her wake. I stared after them, a scowl twisting my
lips as I thought of all the things Amelia could tell Jessica. Things that
might make my future ex-wife think twice about following through with our
arrangement.
Silencing the whispers in my head, I made my way over to the bar to order
cocktails. I gave the bartender a cash incentive to be quick about it. I didn’t
necessarily trust my sister to behave.
I joined them ten minutes later on the balcony where they were laughing
comfortably with each other. Jessica quieted as I approached, and I wanted
to demand to know why they’d been laughing, but instead, I handed the
glass to Jessica and gave my sister her lemon-drop martini.
Meeting Jessica’s gaze, I said, “Hope that’s okay. You ordered a Manhattan
last week, so I assumed you liked them.”
“So this is your second date?” Amelia asked, giving me a curious look.
“Third,” I said coolly.
Jessica, at the same time, said, “Second.”
Amelia’s eyebrows shot up.
“Lunch.” I gave Jessica a pointed look.
She shrugged. “Okay. If that was a date.”
What the hell did that mean? I paid for the meal and kissed her afterward.
We talked about stuff that wasn’t work-related. That sounded like a date to
me.
Jessica sipped her drink and made a low hum of appreciation under her
breath which made my dick stir in interest. And Amelia watched the
interaction with great interest.
Determined to distract my sister, I asked, “Are you and Mom still seeing a
play together this weekend?”
“No.” She frowned and looked down at her drink. “Dad expects her to help
host a campaign luncheon for a friend of his.”
“She hates those,” I muttered.
“Then ask him to leave her out of it,” Amelia said, giving me a direct look.
I started to respond but stopped before I actually said anything too personal,
acutely aware of Jessica’s presence. And for the first time tonight, it wasn’t
a good feeling.
As if she sensed a shift in the atmosphere, Jessica peered at me over the rim
of her glass as she took another drink, then asked my sister, “Where’s the
ladies’ room, Amelia?”
Amelia told her, and we watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
“She’s nice, Derrick,” Amelia said softly.
“Yes,” I agreed.
She turned to face me, a puzzled expression on her face. “I’m not sure why
you’re dating her.”
“What’s that mean?” I took a swallow of my scotch and tried to pretend that
I didn’t really care about what my sister thought.
“You don’t date, Derrick,” Amelia pointed out the obvious. “You certainly
don’t date nice women. The kind Mom would love to spend time with. The
kind I’d like to consider a friend. You take a woman out to dinner or a play,
then you fuck her, and it’s over.”
“Damn, Amelia,” I muttered. I knew I had the morals of an alley cat, but
talking to my sister about sex wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
“Can we not?”
“You remember what I said about how you treat women, Derrick?” She
gave me a hard look. “This is part of it. You use women. And Jessica?
She’s…nice.”
“What if some women like just dinner and sex?” I asked, my voice harsh.
Mostly because she wasn’t wrong.
“So that’s all this is? This is what she wanted to do before you go back to
her place or yours for sex?” Amelia waited for my answer. When I didn’t
give one, she sighed and tossed back the rest of her drink. “I’m going back
to my friends. You should find your friend, so she doesn’t end up lost.”
Dammit.
When Jessica came out of the restroom, I was waiting for her. I took her
hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To look around,” I said, leading her toward the elevators. “I can only
tolerate my family for so long before I need air.”
She kept pace with me in silence until after we’d entered the elevator, but as
the doors slid closed and we began our ascent, she said, “I like your sister.
Your mom seems nice, too.”
“I don’t want to talk about my family,” I said. “I want to show you
something.”
A minute later, the doors opened onto the roof and Jessica gasped. A row of
empty tables stretched from one side to the other and the entire space was
illuminated with strings of lights that reminded me of Christmas lights.
Also up here were two fancy benches under wooden trellises covered with
ivy. It was to one of those that I led her.
“This is beautiful,” Jessica said as we sat down.
“You’re beautiful.” I pushed my hand into those thick red-gold curls and
pulled her mouth to mine.
She stiffened at first, but as I licked and nibbled at her lower lip, she
softened, her breath hitching and her mouth opening for me.
“That’s it, sugar,” I murmured, flicking my tongue over her lower lip. “Let
me in. It’s just you and me up here.”
She shivered, then gasped as I stroked the back of her neck, a response I
filed away for future reference.
Once I had her breathless, I turned my attention to her throat, pleased when
she whimpered and angled her head, giving me better access. I caught the
skinny, sparkling strap of her dress and tugged slowly, waiting for her to
resist. When it reached the swell of her breast just above the pouting tip of
her nipple, she arched closer, so I pulled it down and cupped her through
her strapless bra.
She stiffened and I backed off, going back to what I’d been doing, kissing
her neck and moving my fingers through her hair. As I pulled her onto my
lap, I took her lips in another soft, wet kiss before returning my hand to her
breast. I teased her nipple through her bra, working it into a stiff little bud
that I wanted in my mouth. This time, she didn’t tense up, and soon, she
was wiggling in my lap, grinding her ass against my erection. Impatient and
wanting more, I yanked down the cup of her bra. Taking the hard nub of her
nipple into my mouth, I raked it with my teeth and groaned in satisfaction
as she arched up off my lap with a ragged cry.
“Good girl,” I muttered, already imagining her wet, picturing her panties in
a little crumple of silk while I fucked her pussy with my fingers, readying
her for my dick. I slid my hand up her thigh just far enough to dip under the
hem of her dress. “It’s going to be so good, Jess….”
I felt her tense and flicked my tongue against her nipple, trying to distract
her from whatever it was that had drawn her out of the moment.
But then she caught my hand and pushed it away. Pulled back from my
mouth.
Dammit.
“Stop, Derrick.” She was breathing hard, and even in the dim lighting, I
could see that her fair skin was flushed. I wanted to grab the dress, yank it
off, and see how far that blue when. Taste every inch of her.
But she pushed off my lap, and I let her go.
Gripping the edges of the wooden bench beneath me, I watched as she
tottered on her heels a moment before stabilizing, then went about adjusting
her bra, then her dress, her back to me, as if I hadn’t already seen it.
“I already told you that I don’t plan on sleeping with you,” she said over her
shoulder.
In a voice rough with arousal, I said, “Plans change, sugar.”
She gave me a cool look and I just smiled back. We might be done for the
night, but we were far from done for good.
FIFTEEN
 JESSICA

S exual frustration made for a very , very restless night .

Some self-satisfaction had proven rather…unsatisfactory, mostly because I

kept hearing his confident, rough voice in my ear as he whispered, it’s going
to be so good, Jess.
My body had raged at me when I stopped, and I’d almost listened to it. But
I had to get through this with some measure of respect, and it was already
proving to be damn hard.
I knew when I was being managed, and Derrick Thomas was going out of
his way to control me—and try the same with my friends. The flowers for
Jami, his unflappable attitude, and smooth smiles when she was borderline
rude to him. He didn’t actually care what she thought of him, but he seemed
to think getting her to soften toward him would make this whole thing go
easier. And why?
I didn’t know.
I was still trying to figure out the angle he was working with his book. He'd
cleverly sidestepped the few questions I asked, claiming he didn’t discuss
projects early on in development. I could respect that, but wasn’t I part of
the development?
“You’re very distracted, dear.”
I jerked up my head and found my mother standing a few feet away. I
pasted a smile on my face so she wouldn’t think something was wrong and
gave her a vague answer, “Weird week at work.”
I stepped around the box of books I’d been helping unpack and hoped she
wouldn’t press the issue.
“We’ve had an interesting week around here, too.” She sighed and gave the
storeroom a long, lingering look. She pushed her auburn curls back from
her face and I noticed a few more gray hairs that hadn’t been there just a
few days ago. “Your dad and I are talking about retiring sooner than
planned.”
I spun around. “What? Mom, no.”
She patted my arm. “Come on. Let’s go have some coffee. We’ll talk.”
We walked out to the main part of the store and headed to the coffee corner.
I liked to call it that because it had two well-worn overstuffed chairs and a
simple coffee station for customers to enjoy a cup while browsing. Nothing
fancy. Just a home-style coffee maker with pods, that awful powdered
creamer, and the pink stuff for sweetener.
We fixed ourselves a cup and waited for Dad to finish ringing up two young
women at the register who’d come in searching for fantasy romance. I’d
helped Dad understand the many sub-genres of romance, and he beamed as
the young women thanked him for his help. He smiled in satisfaction as
they left, but when he looked at me, the smile dimmed. Mom and I stepped
over to the register area with a cup of coffee for him too.
“That’s always the best part, you know?” He took the cup from Mom, but
set it down without drinking. “Helping people find the perfect book.”
“Or ten,” I added.
“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, his expression sobered. “I guess your mom told
you we might retire early. We’re looking at other locations, but costs in this
area are…problematic.”
“We’d have to win the lottery,” Mom said bluntly. The door opened with a
jangle of bells, and as several people came in, she smiled at us. “I’ll go help
them. You two talk.”
I put my hand on my dad’s. “Dad, don’t rush into anything, okay? Give me
some time. Maybe I can think of something.”
“We won’t rush, pumpkin,” he said, smiling when I cringed at the
nickname. “But we have to be realistic.”
I bit back a curse. I hadn’t told them about Derrick, not about how he was
the asshole who’d bought the building or my arrangement with him. They’d
be devastated if they knew what I was doing. Or furious. Or both.
“I know that, Dad. Just…don’t commit to anything, not yet.” I squeezed his
hand, staring at him and trying to make him understand without saying
anything. “I’ll work something out. I…Dad, this store is a part of me. I
can’t stand the thought of you and Mom giving it up. I’ll work something
out, okay?”
His craggy face softened with a smile, his storm gray eyes affectionate as he
looked at me.
A shadow fell over the counter, and we both looked up automatically.
I froze, my heart going to my throat.
Derrick stood there, and the glint in his eyes told me he’d been close
enough to hear at least part of our conversation.
“Can I help you with anything, sir?” My dad fell into sales mode quickly.
I glared at Derrick.
“Actually, I’m just here to see my girlfriend.” Derrick’s green eyes met
mine, an easy smile on his lips.
Shit.
Dad glanced at me, confusion on his face.
I barely managed not to growl. He hadn’t called me his girlfriend last night
when we’d talked to his family. Hell, he and I hadn’t even talked about
when we were going to start putting a label on what we were.
“Jess?” Dad asked.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I said coolly, glaring at Derrick. “We’ve been out a
couple of times—girlfriend is a bit premature.”
Derrick’s eyebrows went up but he didn’t say a word.
I stared hard, then glanced at my father. “Dad, this is Derrick.” Then with a
saccharine smile, I said, “Please excuse us…I need to speak with my friend
for a minute.”
I turned and stalked into the backroom, knowing Derrick would follow like
he owned the place.
Because he did.
Asshole.
Girlfriend? My ass.
Less than a minute passed before the door to the backroom closed and I
spun on him, struggling with the urge to yell at him as anger bubbled up
inside me. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s my store,” he said in a mild voice.
I flinched even though I’d had the same thought only moments ago.
He looked away, as if he knew he’d crossed a line with that comment. “I
wanted to drop in and see you.”
“Try again,” I bit off. “You didn’t know I’d be here.”
Rocking back on his heels, he studied me and then sighed. “Alright. I didn’t
know, but I hoped. I noticed on your Facebook page you come in here on
weekends fairly often, and I wanted to see you. And I was curious about the
store…and your parents.”
I had no idea how to respond to that.
His eyes roamed over my face. “You’re quite…devoted.”
“Is that a hard thing for you to imagine?” I asked, remembering his
interactions with his family yesterday. “Families willing to do anything for
each other? Children who are dedicated to their parents?”
He shoved away from the door and prowled closer. “What is that supposed
to mean?”
“Are you serious?” I huffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t a humorous one. “I’m
not blind. You barely gave your mother the time of day yesterday and
practically ran her off when she and I started talking.”
“What’s your point?” he snapped.
“You hardly spoke to your father. Blew off your mom. And as soon as your
sister brought up something to do with your family, you couldn’t have made
it clearer that you didn’t want me to know anything about it without
actually saying it.” I took a step toward him.
“You don’t know shit about my family.” He practically growled the words.
“I know you don’t waltz into a family company and introduce yourself as
somebody’s significant other without discussing it with the other first,
especially after you didn’t call me your girlfriend last night. Hell, you
barely let me speak five words to your parents, but then you crashed in here
like you had every right to do so!” I pointed at him. “And I don’t care if you
own the building. You didn’t come in to introduce yourself as the owner.
You came in and called me your fucking girlfriend!”
He grabbed my hand.
I yanked on it.
He yanked back, and I crashed into his chest, off-balance.
Startled, I tried to back up, but he already had his arms around me. Then, in
the next breath, his mouth was on mine.
I gasped and he took advantage, his tongue plunging into my mouth while
he spun us around and shoved me back against the door. On the other side
of the door, my parents were merrily selling books and talking about
leaving this piece of my childhood…and here Derrick was, kissing a path
down my neck and muttering against my skin.
“You’re fucking right. I’m here because of you. I couldn’t sleep last night
because I kept thinking about you.” He bit my neck, and I shuddered.
His lips returned to mine, and he licked his way into my mouth, one hand
plunging under my shirt and then under my bra. I whimpered as he tugged
on my nipple, working it between his thumb and forefinger until it
throbbed, a pulse of pleasurable pain that turned sharp when he pinched me.
I sucked in a startled breath, and if his mouth hadn’t swallowed down my
cry, I would have alerted the whole damn store.
His eyes locked to mine as he reached down and slowly gathered the
material of my skirt in one hand, giving me time to stop him, but my brain
was melting on me like ice cream under the summer sun. Then he had his
bare hand on my naked thigh, and I actually whimpered.
“Shhh…” he murmured, his fingers sliding higher, then higher still. “Unless
you want me to stop. Should I stop?”
“I…” Say yes, you idiot.
He cupped me over my panties and pressed the heel of his hand against the
top of my mound. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I – I don’t know.”
“Let me help you decide.” His hand moved quickly, sliding beneath the
waistband of my panties, and then two fingers were inside me.
My spine arched in shock, and I rose onto my toes, a thin whimper
escaping. I clutched at his arm but didn’t try to push him away.
“Quiet, little girl,” he murmured. “Don’t want anyone to know what we’re
doing back here, do you?”
The hand on my breast moved to cover my mouth.
Those deep green eyes burned into me as he twisted his fingers inside me.
“Should I stop?” he asked again.
I could only moan. Then he flicked my clitoris with his thumb, and only his
hand muffled my cry.
“I don’t think you’re ready for me to stop, Jessica,” he said without missing
a single stroke, not with his fingers inside me, and not with his thumb
moving in circles over my clit. “I think you want to come, don’t you?”
Dazed, I nodded, staring at him over the hand covering my mouth. It was a
firm touch, but careful, not hurting, not tight.
“Your pussy is as soft and sweet as I thought it would be,” he said, still
pumping his fingers into me, still pressing his thumb against my clit. “And
you’re so fucking hot. Is your pussy this hot for me?”
Whimpering, I tried to move against him, tried to get his fingers deeper, get
more friction where I needed it the most.
Abruptly, he stopped moving altogether and just leaned into me. “Answer
me. Am I the reason your pussy is so fucking hot and wet right now?”
I nodded, desperate for him to keep touching me.
My answer must’ve satisfied him because then he was moving again.
Faster, rougher. Zero to sixty in a bare second. My nerves screamed as
sensations raced along each one, setting my body on fire.
With a cry barely muffled against his hand, I came. My pussy clenched
around him, and I rode his fingers as it dragged on and on, emptying me of
everything. He nuzzled my neck as I came down, the hand between my
thighs petting and soothing me while he eased the other hand from my
mouth and stroked my hair.
Once my legs could hold me again, he straightened and, keeping my gaze,
he slipped his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean.
“Delicious,” he said, watching as my cheeks turned red. “Next time, I’ll get
it straight from the source.”
My knees trembled. I didn’t bother saying there wouldn’t be a next time. I’d
just discovered I had a fatal weakness.
“I’m picking you up Friday evening and we’re going to a club. I think it’s
time you see my world.”
His world? Somehow, I didn’t think that had anything to do with his family
or his business. It was something else entirely.
I was in a daze as he adjusted my clothes and smoothed my hair.
“You’re not going to speak to me?” he asked as the silence stretched
between us.
“I’m trying to figure out if I should and why I should,” I said as I gathered
myself mentally.
“You’re still mad.” He inclined his head as if he didn’t quite understand
what was happening.
“An orgasm doesn’t undo you acting like a domineering asshole and
coming in here, making decisions for me.” My body was still alight with
need for more, but my temper had snapped back to the forefront, and I
crossed my arms over my chest, desperately wishing for distance now. “You
had no right coming in here like that and telling my parents you’re my
boyfriend. This…thing is your experiment, remember? It’s business. You’ve
got no right involving them—or their feelings.”
“How did I involve their feelings?” he challenged.
Shoving away from the door, I moved closer. “How do you think my father
would feel if he knew I was just in here getting felt up by a man who is
basically paying me to marry him—and I’m doing it so my parents don’t
lose their store?”
His jaw went tight and anger flashed in the depths of his eyes.
“I don’t want to sleep with you because I’m not a whore,” I said tightly.
“And it’s going to be damned hard to figure out where the line is if I sleep
with you—and how do I remind myself of that? How do I convince my
parents of that if I’m fucking you?”
“The deal remains whether or not we fuck, Jessica. Think of it as another
matter entirely if you wish. But I want you in my bed, and I’m not planning
on giving up on it, though I will always respect your no.” He gripped my
chin and held me still as he kissed me once more, hard and fast. “But you’re
right about one thing. I shouldn’t have come here as I did. I apologize. I’ll
leave.”
And while I was still weak in the knees, he did just that. As he slipped out, I
clung to the table and closed my eyes.
Another fourteen and a half months of this…how the fuck was I supposed
to handle that?
SIXTEEN
 DERRICK

“H ow ’ s your project going ?” D rew asked .

I looked up from my pizza and hitched a shoulder. We’d ordered it to get us

through a late-night session to clean up the mess the Danbridge project had
become.
“Okay, so far.” Hesitating for only a moment, I added, “I’m taking her to
the club this weekend.”
“You’re…” He put his beer down and leaned back in his chair, gaze
pensive. “You’re taking Jessica, whom you barely know, to the club.”
“Yes.” I dropped the slice I’d been eating and picked up my beer, annoyed
by the criticism in his voice. “She’ll enjoy it. You can tell when it’s a
woman’s thing or not, man. You know that.”
“Typically, it’s not something you rush into,” he replied. “And Derrick?
You’re rushing.”
“No. I’m moving at my usual pace.” I took a long pull from the bottle and
put it down, resisting the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up. He hadn’t seen
her on the roof, in the back of her parents’ store. Hadn’t felt her responses.
“Maybe you should be moving at her pace.” Then he grabbed his beer and
bent over the promo pieces the art department had put together. “But
whatever. It’s your experiment, your book, and your problem if you screw
things up.” His voice hardened. “Oh, and maybe her life, her heart. Her
reputation if you aren’t careful. Why the fuck should I be worried?”
I’D ALREADY TOLD Jessica I’d be taking her to a club, but my talk with
Drew—especially his final warning—was still ringing in my ears when I
picked her up, and I credited that for the edge of nerves I felt as I knocked
on her door. She’d asked what she should wear, and I’d suggested
something short, black, and sexy.
When she opened the door, I saw that she’d taken me at my word, and I had
the sudden urge to push up the snug fit of her skirt, bare her ass and spank
her a couple times – gently, of course – just to see how she’d react.
She hesitated in the doorway, and I realized I was staring. I dragged my
eyes upward, away from black heels with thick straps at the ankle that
looked like cuffs. Her long, slim legs were bare all the way to just above
mid-thigh. The dress itself showed off the slight curve of her hips and the
rounded perfection of her tits, a cut-out neckline dipping down to expose
the tops of those creamy mounds.
I finally met her eyes. “You look….” I reached for the right word. Fuckable.
Delicious. Perfect. Mine—Wait. What? Where did that come from?
“Amazing.” I cleared my throat. “Fucking amazing.”
“Thanks.” A hint of color washed over her cheeks. “Let me grab my
purse…just…wait here.”
Something about the set of her mouth made me decide not to ask if I could
come in. And it was a good thing. I was struck mute by what I saw the
second she turned.
The dress’s back was…fuck. There were a few inches of fabric covering the
top of her ass, but from the small of her back to an inch-wide collar at her
neck, there were a fine silver meshwork of chains. I counted them as my
blood surged south. Thirteen chains that jingled slightly when she walked
left her smooth, perfect back almost entirely bare, thanks to the loose,
stylish knot she’d made of her hair.
When she turned back to face me, I noticed there were thin silver chains
dangling from her ears, mimicking the ones on the dress.
Fuck. She didn’t even know where we were going, and she’d managed to
dress for it perfectly.
As she slid out the door, I had to back up. The need to pull her close and
stroke my hand under those chains made my palms itch. Instead, I took her
hand and made myself breathe as we headed back downstairs.
“What kind of club are we going to?” she asked after we settled into the
back of the limo I’d requested for tonight.
The privacy glass was already up between us and the driver, but I still took
my time answering, opening the small panel that had kept a bottle of
Macallan 25 Yr Scotch chilling. I poured two glasses and passed her one,
watching as she lifted it to her lips, taking a sniff of it first before trying a
small sip. I couldn’t tell if she liked it or not, but she kept it, so that was
something.
“Derrick? The club?” She fidgeted in her seat next to me, eyes betraying
her nerves. “I don’t really see you as the type to go dancing, so I assume
that’s not the sort of place we’re going.”
I took a deep swig of the whiskey before answering, but it didn’t do
anything to soothe me. “My club is a rather unique, private place that caters
to a specific clientele.”
“Oh?” She took another sip of the scotch.
Keeping my eyes on her face, I said, bluntly, “It’s a bondage club.”
Her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened, all before a shocked little gasp
escaped her parted lips. Each reaction told me something, but most telling
of all? The way her pupils darkened, and a telltale flush settled across the
slopes of her breasts.
As I’d told Drew, I could tell if a woman might be into a certain sort of
kink…and I’d suspected Jessica might very well find my club was right up
her alley.
“I’m guessing you know what BDSM is? At least the basic concepts?” I
asked.
She nodded as she crossed her legs and then uncrossed them, as if she
couldn’t quite get comfortable…and I had a pretty good idea why. I wished
we’d progressed farther into our relationship because I wanted to reach
over, push her thighs apart, and stroke her. I knew I’d find her wet. And that
was just at the realization of where we were going.
Keeping my hands to myself was the hardest thing I’d done in a while, and
it made for a very long, very tense car ride. Neither of us said anything else
as we rode, and the silence was a kind of foreplay in itself.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived, and I smiled at the look of disbelief on
Jessica’s face as I helped her out of the car. The club was in one of New
York City’s quiet, genteel-looking brownstones, the basement and all three
floors catering to kinks from the mild to the very perverse. The most
perverse of them all played out in the lowest level, the aptly named
Dungeon of Delights.
I usually kept my dealings to the first and second floors, not into the more
extreme nature of the lifestyle. The entertainment on those floors featured
shows on several stages scattered around the main room and also housed
private rooms which could be booked for exclusive use by elite members.
“You aren’t expected to do anything, and nobody is allowed to touch you
without your permission.” Holding out my arm, I added, “That includes me.
If anybody makes you uncomfortable, the house staff will deal with it.”
Assuming I didn’t maim someone first. “All you have to do is let them
know. But they’re good at catching problems before they start. They’ll
likely notice anybody close to crossing your personal boundaries before you
even have a chance to say anything.”
“Okay.” She looked like she was either nervous or excited as she took my
arm. “You seem pretty familiar with all of this.”
I stroked my thumb over the back of her hand and said, “It’s part of my life.
And anybody I’m with needs to be aware of it.”
She shot me a sidelong look as we stepped up to the VIP entrance but said
nothing until we were seated in my private booth nearly fifteen minutes
later.
“Is this your subtle way of telling me I need to be prepared to be your…”
She frowned, her cheeks still a vivid pink.
“No.” She didn’t need to finish for me to know what she was asking. “This
world doesn’t work like that. Consent comes first—always. And it’s not
consent if I’m telling you what you have to do or be. But…” I let my gaze
dip to her lips and linger. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about you
naked, bound hand and foot, on your knees in front of me while I fucked
that pretty mouth of yours with my dick. And that’s just for starters.”
Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping her.
“But I won’t push you.” I picked up my glass and took a sip. The scotch
wasn’t quite as good as what we’d had in the car, but it wasn’t bad either.
“We can just have a drink, eat some food. Watch the shows if you’d like.
We can talk more about the possibilities of this later if you want.”
“Alright.” Her voice was steadier than I expected, and she picked up the
water the server had left for her and eyed my scotch. “I’d like something
stronger than water.”
I pushed a button on the wall, and a panel slid up, revealing a tablet
computer. “Order whatever you wish. This is my standing order, so it’s
brought out as soon as I arrive.”
“Top-notch service for one of the richest men in the city?” she said with a
hint of a smile.
“No, I replied. “For one of the elite club members who pay well for the
service.” Smiling back, I shrugged. “I’m an impatient asshole, and I’m
willing to pay up for what I want. It makes life easier.”
Her eyes flicked to me, then fell away, her expression closing off.
I clenched my jaw, realizing how it sounded, then cursed. I knew she
wanted me. She didn’t seem to mind spending time with me or the simpler
physical affections.
But she hadn’t slept with me yet. And she’d made it clear that it wouldn’t
be because of the money if she did. Hell, I might have had an easier time
getting in her pants if this deal hadn’t been made.
“I haven’t been able to buy you, though, have I?” I said quietly.
She didn’t reply at first, swiping a finger over the tablet’s screen as she read
through the options. She made her choice, then leaned back to study me.
“I’m not for sale,” she said finally. “You can pay me for my time. That’s a
job. Even what we’re doing now…it’s part of the job. But if I choose to
give you any part of me, it will be because I choose it. Money won’t do a
damn thing to sway my decision.” Then, as if she’d heard the echo of my
thoughts, she added, “Honestly, I think I’d like you more if you had less
money.”
“If I was just a regular, average everyday Joe?” I drawled, laying on thick
with sarcasm. “So many women are thrilled with the prospect of men like
that, aren’t they?”
“My mother married a regular, average, everyday guy, and they’re still so
happy together, it can give you a cavity to watch them.” Her eyes chilled as
she stared at me. “I’m a regular, average, everyday person, Derrick. And yet
here you are, paying me to spend time with you.” She shook her head. “I
know you half-expected your money and a nice date or two to convince me
to fall back and spread my legs, but unlike the women you usually
encounter, I don’t give a damn about your money.”
She picked up her water and deliberately turned her attention away from
me, her eyes moving to the kinbaku display taking place on the stage
closest to us.
I might as well not have existed for her at that moment.
Just as well, because I was still trying to pick my jaw up from the floor two
minutes later as a server, dressed in slinky silver, brought Jessica a drink.
After the server walked away, I asked, “How is it that you always manage
to make me feel like I’ve had my legs cut out from under me?”
“Do I?” Jessica blinked, looking startled, as if I’d pulled her attention away
from something she’d been absorbed in. Her cheeks were flushed, her
breathing ragged.
The rope show was arousing her, I realized. I filed that away for later, but
now that her attention was back on me, I wanted to keep it that way.
“You can’t tell?” I tossed back the rest of my scotch and picked up the
bottle that’d been brought out along with her drink. “I’m an arrogant prick,
and I know that, but you make me feel like I’m an awkward high school kid
dealing with his first crush.”
She ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she considered her glass. Finally,
she looked at me, her gray eyes calm. “How often do you have honest
conversations with people, Derrick?”
“I’m not much of a ‘conversation’ type of guy. I’ve got a couple of people
who are upfront with me. That’s enough.” The words sounded stiff, even to
my ears.
“And chances are, they’ve all known you long enough that they’re blind to
some of your….” She pursed her lips for a moment, then smiled sweetly.
“Flaws. I’m not. Besides, you didn’t put anything in our contract requiring
me to kiss your ass. I’m not going to cater to your whims to keep my job,
please you, or anything else, which, truthfully, is a damn good thing
because kissing the asses of arrogant men has never been a strong suit of
mine.”
Damn.
“I don’t want you kissing my ass,” I said sourly. Looking at her lips, I
added, “Other parts of me…sure.”
Her lids flickered, and her breathing hitched. “I’m not sure I’m interested in
kneeling for you.”
“I’d be willing to reciprocate.”
I could see the mad flutter of her pulse in throat. Reaching out, I twined an
errant curl around my finger, releasing it, then stroked the side of her neck,
brushing my thumb against that pulse point.
“As a matter of fact, I’m pretty damned excited at the thought. I really want
to taste your pussy, Jessica.”
She twitched in her seat and I knew I’d effectively changed the course of
our conversation.
“And now you want it, too.” I slid from the booth. “Come. Let me show
you around.”
She looked at her drink.
“Bring it.”
We walked past a couple more rope displays taking place on the main floor
and paused by the stage at the far end where a woman was bound to a St.
Andrews Cross, the open-caged leather design of her lingerie doing nothing
to conceal her body, leaving both her breasts and pussy bare for the velvet
whip her master held.
She had a gag in her mouth, but we were close enough that the soft music
didn’t muffle her cries as the masked man with the whip brought it down,
letting the lashes land with a flick across the tender folds between her
thighs.
I eyed her taut muscles, the way her belly worked.
“If he gives her one more, she’ll come,” I told Jessica.
She jerked at the sound of my voice and gave me a glassy-eyed look.
“What?”
I touched Jessica’s chin and guided her gaze back to the woman on the
cross. “Watch. He’s about to make her come.”
The whip came up between the woman’s legs, and the sub climaxed,
thrashing and jerking and sobbing against the gag. The man put the whip
down and went to her, pushing his mask up just enough to bare his lower
face before kneeling and licking her swollen, flushed folds. She whimpered
under his touch, and I wondered if Jessica saw the gentleness, the
tenderness there.
I cupped the back of Jessica’s neck, my cock aching and my hands itching
to touch.
The woman climaxed again, this time against her master’s tongue and he
rose, freed her from the restraints, and picked her up to take her to the
padded table in the middle of the stage. There, he rubbed her shoulders and
moved his hands to her back muscles.
“Being bound like that can strain the muscles,” I explained. “A good master
—or Dom, whatever label a person chooses—will care for his sub when
he’s done or when she’s done. It’s how it works.”
She nodded. “I can see that.”
“Want to see more?”
When she didn’t say no, I took her hand and led her to the stairs, then up to
the second floor. Small alcoves made up much of this section, and I selected
one, taking up a small couch in a shadowy corner where we watched a
Domme teach a male sub how to take an anal plug and then had him lay
down while she sat on his face.
Jessica was quivering by that point, and I stroked my fingers along her
thigh and nuzzled her neck, always watching for any indication that she
wanted me to stop.
Suddenly, she turned her head and looked at me, mouth parted, and cheeks
flushed.
“Jessica…I…”
She kissed me.
It startled me for a second, but the taste of her hit my system hard and fast,
and I shoved my hand into her hair and pulled her close.
Others were close by, but I’d chosen this alcove—and this couch—for a
reason. The shadows made it easy for us to hide, and I half-hauled her onto
my lap before pushing my hand under the hem of her skirt to palm her ass.
She moaned and slid her hand down between us, pressing her palm to my
cock.
I went rigid, then swore, cursing against her soft lips.
She pulled back, staring at me. I groaned as she rubbed me again, then
reached up and tugged at the buckle on my belt.
“I want…”
“Go ahead,” I said, dragging myself under control. I was an impatient
bastard, yeah. But I could wait a few moments more for her touch.
Her eyes held mine as she undid my belt, then the button on my pants
before unzipping them. Gasping as she stroked me through my boxers, I
squeezed my eyes shut. They flew open seconds later as she eased away
and worked my underwear down just enough so my dick was exposed to
her.
Her breath hitched, and I looked at her, fascinated, as she licked her lips,
eyes on my cock.
“You’re…big,” she whispered.
I couldn’t help but smirk at that.
“Yes.” And then she had me shuddering as she closed her hand around me.
Swearing under my breath, I reached down and covered her hand with
mine, and squeezed. “Harder… fuck… squeeze me harder… just that like…
perfect…”
Her breasts heaved, excitement flickering over her face as she looked from
my face down to her hand, where she worked my dick.
“You’re enjoying yourself,” I muttered.
“Yes.” She squirmed on my lap.
I slid my hand from her ass to her hip and toyed with the lacy edge of her
panties. “Let me…”
“No.” She caught my hand with her free one and continued to stroke me
with the other. “No. I just want this right now.”
It was fucking torture to sit there, keeping my hands to myself as she
worked me to orgasm. It was also just this side of heaven. Swearing as I got
closer, I started to thrust into her hand, my eyes squeezed shut, head thrust
back against the padded cushion of the couch.
“Oh…fuck,” I growled as my climax hit hard and brutal, knocking the air
from my lungs. I grabbed her hand to keep her from pulling away, but she
didn’t try. She kept stroking, squeezing as she neared the tip, twisting her
wrist. My dick jerked a couple more times, and she made a humming sound
in her throat, almost like a cat’s purr.
I wanted to haul her against me and cuddle her, then push inside her pussy
where she’d be wet and ready.
Before I could even try, she eased off my lap.
A house employee appeared from the shadows, offered her a damp rag, then
another to me, disappearing just as swiftly. I stared at her as she wiped her
hand off, her gaze bouncing around, refusing to connect with mine.
She cleaned up the evidence of what she’d done to me and I could tell her
mind was spinning right now. I adjusted myself and put my clothes to
rights, then rose. All I had to do was get her to let me kiss her…
“I think I’d like to leave if that’s okay,” she said softly.
Fuck.
SEVENTEEN
 JESSICA

I needed to focus on work and not think about D errick . J ami had
found three potential manuscripts in the slush pile, and they needed our
attention. We’d spent the last couple hours debating over them, but when
she stepped out for a call, my thoughts immediately flew to the man who’d
begun consuming far too many of my thoughts recently.
Derrick had met us outside the building today and offered to buy us coffee.
Jami had coolly informed him she was cutting back on caffeine and headed
on inside without another word. I hadn’t called her on the lie—how could I,
when I understood why she didn’t want to be around him, why she didn’t
trust him? But I still felt so damn drawn to him.
He hadn’t mentioned the night at the club, which annoyed me even as I was
relieved. If he had, I could have used it to put distance between us because,
as aroused as I’d been by it all, I wasn’t sure I could handle what it brought
out in me.
I’d jerked him off. In full view of others. And if he’d so much as touched
me, I would have let him do anything he wanted. I was just grateful that he
had respected my request to take me home.
“Jessica, some of Riggio’s social media is…problematic.” The wariness of
Jami’s voice pulled me out of my head, and I looked up from my computer,
hoping it wasn’t obvious I’d been thinking about anything but work.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” She turned her phone around and showed it to me.
I glanced at the screen, then did a double-take, wincing. “We’re going to
pass on her, I think. Just send her a form rejection.” Blatant hate speech on
her social media was not something I wanted in any author I picked up.
“Gotcha.”
A knock at the door had us both looking up. “Derrick…” I mentally cursed,
reminding myself I needed to call him Mr. Thomas while we were at work,
but it was too late. “What can I do for you?”
“May I come in?” he asked politely.
I lifted my eyebrow, the courteousness in his request slightly surprising. “Of
course. This is your company.”
“This is your office,” he pointed out, stepping inside. “Someone had
pointed out, several times lately, that I’m overly arrogant. I’m trying to be a
bit more well-behaved.”
“And you think knocking is the way to fix it?” Jami asked.
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he only smiled. “It’s a start, I hope.”
“What did you need, Mr. Thomas?” I asked, cutting in before Jami could
say something else.
His eyes flicked to mine, then moved to Jami. “I’m actually here to speak
with Ms. Griffin.” He turned to her. “Mr. Danbridge is on a conference call
with Drew, and he’d like you to sit in on it.”
Her eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes. Mr. Danbridge has been very clear in his displeasure that you’re not
working on his project anymore and has asked that you at least help advise
when possible.” Derrick’s voice was cool, but professional. “If you’d rather
not, I can pass those wishes along, but you did invest a great deal of time on
the book.”
Jami shot me a look, and I saw the excitement in her eyes. “Go on.” I
looked at the notes for the other projects on my desk. “These can hold.”
She all but jumped out of her chair. “Is Mr. Wolff in his office?”
“He is.”
I thought Derrick would follow her, so I was surprised when he closed the
door behind her…and locked it. He turned to lean against it, eyes heated as
he studied me.
“Don’t you need to join in on the call?” I asked.
“You did hear me say Danbridge isn’t happy with me, right?” He pushed
away from the door and came closer, moving with a smooth grace that
made my body tighten. “As a matter of fact, he’s one of those few people
who talk to me bluntly. You’d like him. He was very upfront when he told
me I was an arrogant little prick.”
I managed to keep from laughing. “Ah…I guess that’s why you’re in a bad
mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood.” He circled the desk, and shocking the hell out of
me, he knelt down. “I’ve been in a state of permanent sexual frustration
ever since you stormed into my office and told me off. It’s gotten worse
every damn day, and then you put your hands on me at the club. I can’t stop
thinking about those pretty fingers on my dick, Jessica.”
I grabbed onto the arms of my chair and squeezed to keep from reaching for
him. There was no way he was going to do what I thought–
“I want to return the favor.” He dipped his head and kissed my knee through
the long, loose flow of my skirt. “And I’m going to do that right now unless
you tell me no.”
“I…right now?” Petrified, I looked at the door.
“It’s locked.” He reminded me as he slid his hands up my calves to my
knees, my thighs, higher and higher until my skirt rucked up over his hands,
the fabric pooling high on my thighs. “I haven’t heard a no.”
I gasped as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties.
“Lift up.”
I did, and the soft growl of approval that escaped him had me choking back
a whimper.
Caught in the spell of his eyes, I trembled as he took my ankles again and
lifted them, bracing each on the chair's armrests before pushing against my
knees and looking down.
I blushed furiously, exposed and bared to him, presented in what should
have been an awkward and uncomfortable position. All I could do,
however, was tremble with anticipation.
“Such a pretty pink pussy,” he said, voice ragged and full of an edged,
vicious need. “I’m going to enjoy devouring it.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Derrick–”
He reached up with his free hand and covered my mouth. Then he bent
down and licked me, one slow, long lick from the bottom of my slit to the
top.
I jolted and cried out against his hand, the sound muffled.
“Go ahead and scream,” he murmured. “I won’t let anybody hear you.”
Then he licked me again before moving higher to tease my clit with rapid-
fire flickers of his tongue. My legs clenched and quivered as pleasure raced
along my nerves, firing from cell to cell like nothing I’d ever felt before.
He pushed two fingers into me, twisted, and I arched, rocked against him.
He began to thrust hard and fast, not giving me any time to adjust. No time
for my mind to catch up to all of the sensations coursing through me. As the
pressure inside me became nearly unbearable, I sobbed his name against his
hand, needing more. He growled, and the vibration went all the way up my
spine.
Then he twisted his wrist and licked my clit once more…and I came apart.
The world exploded into white light and Derrick lingered, licking me
through it until I finally collapsed, utterly spent.
Then he stood, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He brushed his
fingers down my cheek and tugged my dress back into place. He scooped
something off the floor, tucked it into his pocket, and headed for the door.
“Derrick…?”
He glanced at me, a slightly smug expression on his face, but said nothing
as he flipped the lock and opened the door.
My head still spinning, I straightened, grimacing as I remembered I wasn’t
wearing any underwear. The grimace became a scowl when I scanned the
floor and realized that he’d taken my panties with him.
“What happened here?”
I looked up to see Jami standing in the doorway. “I…what do you mean?”
The furious red of my cheeks probably told her everything, but I didn’t see
the need to admit to it.
Jami came in and closed the door, a concerned expression on her face.
“Jess…I wished you’d be more careful.”
The tone stabbed at me, adding to the guilt already flaring up over what
we’d just done.
“Careful?”
She rolled her eyes and gestured at me. “You look like he came in here,
flipped up your skirt, and fucked you over your desk. Yes, Jess, I want you
to be careful!”
She was so close to the mark I wanted to melt into the floor. Embarrassed, I
snapped, “Maybe you should worry about your own life and leave me to
live mine.”
Jami’s face fell and she took a step back.
I immediately felt like an ass, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that
wouldn’t make it worse, not without admitting that she had reason to be
worried.
She swallowed and turned away. “I’m going to get to work.”
And since I still couldn’t think of the right words, I stayed quiet while she
left me alone with my thoughts.
“You handled that well, didn’t you?” I muttered.
There was no answer, though, and I dropped my head into my hands,
brooding over the bizarre turns my life had taken on me lately.

DERRICK DIDN’T COME by again that day, not for lunch, coffee, or even
to say hi and that was probably a good thing. I was feeling rattled for too
many reasons to count. I kept my attention on brief tasks, skimming
promotional blurbs, checking social media accounts, and reading email
requests from bloggers. Anything requiring real focus escaped me, but the
other items piled up, and I cut through the accumulated chores with sheer
determination. Every time I slowed down, I imagined Derrick kneeling in
front of me…then his smirk right before he left.
And Jami, with her soft warning to be careful.
I should be careful.
But I was beginning to think it was too late.
I felt things for Derrick I shouldn’t. This…relationship had a time limit, and
it wasn’t even close to real to begin with.
A sly voice in my head whispered that it’d felt real when he had his mouth
on me.
Sure it had. Derrick had made it clear he wanted to sleep with me, but
Derrick was a player. A man who had only one use for women in his
personal life.
I didn’t want that for my life.
What I did want included a best friend who wasn’t pissed at me. I shut off
my computer and went to see Jami. She gave me a guarded look as I came
over to her desk, but didn’t tell me to leave.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
She raised an eyebrow, and I grabbed her hand.
“Want to grab a drink or two? Happy hour has started at our favorite pub.”
Her expression softened but she still didn’t say anything.
“Please?”
A smile broke across her face, and she nodded. “I just finished. Let’s go.”
With a sigh of relief, I walked to the elevator with my best friend and
vowed that I wasn’t going to let Derrick screw up the relationships in my
life just because he could make me orgasm like nobody else.
EIGHTEEN
 DERRICK

I t was stupid to be nervous about spending the F ourth of J uly with

Jessica’s family and friends. Logically, I knew that. Maybe if this was a real
relationship, it would’ve been different. But it wasn’t. Both Jessica and I
knew that. And it wasn’t even like it was one of the important holidays
either.
Yet here I was, standing on the porch of a house in Brooklyn—I had to park
almost a quarter mile away—waiting for somebody to answer the door.
When Jessica had invited me to a cookout she regularly attended with some
family and friends every Fourth of July, I wanted to say no. It would have
been more fun to spend the afternoon on my boat on the river or maybe
even farther out, but when she told me the cookout was a family tradition
and she never missed it, I knew I could either spend Fourth of July with her
and her family…or alone.
Oddly, being alone had less appeal than usual.
Plus, if she wanted me to spend time with the people she cared about,
joining in on a family tradition, it had to mean something, right?
Some of the nerves drained away, and I was smiling when the door opened.
A skinny blond teen boy looked me over, and didn’t seem impressed.
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Jessica Ellis.”
She appeared over his shoulder, a wide smile curving her lips. “I’ve got
this, Brayden.”
He shrugged and turned away, walking with that slouchy dragging stride
teenage boys have nailed to perfection.
“My cousin,” Jessica said with a faint smile. “He lights up the world, huh?”
“Like a spotlight.” I looked her up and down, mind doing a slow meltdown
at seeing her in faded denim cut-offs over a cherry red bikini. “You look
delicious.”
She turned pink and glanced over her shoulder before looking back at me.
“Hush.”
“Hush?” I grinned.
Shooting a look past her into the house, I saw that it looked mostly empty,
so I hooked a finger in the waistband of her shorts and tugged her onto the
porch. She pulled the door mostly shut behind her, her eyes wide, cheeks
flushed.
“Delicious isn’t a dirty word,” I said.
“It is when you say it like that,” she pointed out, eyes wary.
“Like what…?” I nuzzled her neck, then nipped her, soft and slow, reveling
in her shudder before pressing my mouth to her ear. “Like I’m thinking
about licking that sweet pussy of yours again?”
“Yes!” It squeaked out of her.
Chuckling, I kissed her temple, then let her go. “Okay, I’ll try to avoid
using any words that might let you know how much I keep thinking about
that.”
“You’re impossible,” she said, backing away. But there was a smile on her
lips, one that was hotly female. “Come on…let me introduce you to
everyone.”
JESSICA’S MOM passed her a red plastic cup of something from a pitcher,
and Jess sipped at it tentatively, then sighed happily. “You made the Dark
and Stormy this time around, Mom.”
“You’ve always been able to tell,” Charlotte said with a smile.
“It’s not hard.” Jessica grinned at the lady sitting next to her mom. “Aunt
Jen has a lot of talents, but making a Dark and Stormy isn’t one of them.
Hers have the kick of jet fuel.”
“You’re just a lightweight, honey.” Jen Beville had vibrant black hair,
obviously dyed, wore goth-style makeup, and the tank and shorts she wore
left a number of tattoos on display. Her girlfriend, Toni, on the other hand,
looked like a kindergarten teacher.
There was also a preacher and his wife in attendance, an editor for a mid-
sized children’s book publishing company who’d looked surprised to see
me, and several people Jessica had introduced as family, one way or the
other.
Everybody was polite, but I knew I was being measured and evaluated.
Sipping my beer, I kept quiet for the most part, participating in
conversations only when addressed but listening to everything. And I
watched Jessica. She was gorgeous. The more time I spent around her, the
more I wanted to be with her. Catching a lock of her hair, I toyed with it as
she bantered with one of her friends, and the sound of her laughter breaking
out made me smile. Dropping my gaze to the curl I held, I rubbed it
between my fingers.
There was a sudden silence, and I looked up and realized that pretty much
everyone was looking at me. Her cheeks flushed pink under my gaze, but
she arched an eyebrow. There was a nervous look in her eyes, and she had
her head angled, hair shielding her face so only I could see well.
“Did you want to take that one, Derrick?”
“Ah…” I looked around and found myself at a loss. Jen, sitting the closest
to us, had an amused smirk on her face, and I decided it might be best to be
upfront. “Sorry. I was busy staring at Jessica. I’m afraid I wasn’t paying
attention to anybody else.”
Jessica’s blush deepened and a chuckle ran around the group. The
amusement on Jen’s face increased, but it was the softening in her mother’s
eyes that hit me.
“Aunt Jen asked how we met,” Jessica said. She bit her lower lip, then
added, “I told them I worked for your publishing company, but she’s nosy
as hell and wanted more than that.”
Laying my hand on her thigh, thumb stroking the soft skin warmed by the
sun, I decided maybe a little more honesty wouldn’t hurt.
“She came in to chew me out,” I finally said. “She was pissed off over a
business decision I’d made–”
I stopped suddenly, something behind the group catching my attention.
Without pausing to think or say anything, I bolted from my seat, only
vaguely aware that I’d knocked over one of the table trays as I went. A
moment later, I hit Brayden’s hand hard enough to send him stumbling back
several steps.
Before anyone could react, the firecracker he’d been holding went off with
a loud bang, safely in the grass a few feet away.
“What the hell?!” Brayden yelled, his face red. “You ruined my video!”
Chaos erupted behind me, but all I cared about was making sure Jessica
didn’t think I’d tried to hurt her cousin. I’d just turned back in the direction
I’d come when Jessica collided with me, her arms going around my waist.
“Thank you.” She pressed her face into my chest, and I could feel her
trembling as I wrapped my arms around her. Relief rushed through me as I
realized she understood what I’d done and why.
“What were you thinking?”
For a moment, I thought Don Ellis was talking to me, but then I saw that he
was standing in front of his nephew.
“It was one of those damn internet challenges, wasn’t it?” He demanded.
“Well, Brayden? Answer me.”
Brayden’s face was still red as he scuffed his shoe on the ground. “Yeah.
You’re supposed to hold a firecracker while it goes off. It just scorches your
palm. It’s no big deal.”
Jen smacked the back of Brayden’s head, a gesture all of the adults here
probably wanted to do. “Not if you close your hand into a fist, you idiot.”
“If Derrick here hadn’t acted as fast as he did, you could’ve lost your hand,”
Charlotte said, her face pale. She turned to me. “Thank you.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. I’d reacted on instinct and
now that my brain had finally caught up to what’d happened, I was shaken.
If I’d been only a few seconds slower, or if I hadn’t been answering a
question that had me looking away from Jessica…I didn’t even want to
think about what could’ve happened.
The next few minutes were a blur as the adrenaline faded from my system.
An embarrassed and annoyed Brayden mumbled a thank you before Don
took him into the house to call his parents. People expressed admiration and
gratitude for my quick thinking and bravery, and I managed to smile if not
say a few words in return.
“Come on. Let’s get some food and find a place for the fireworks.” Jessica’s
soft voice brought me back to myself and her hand taking mine grounded
me.
I followed her back to the tables of food and helped her load a couple plates
that I carried while she grabbed drinks and a blanket. We ended up on the
other side of the yard by a tree near the tall privacy fence.
She glanced at me as she spread the blanket on the grass, a slightly shy
smile on her face. “This is my tree. I’ve sat here every year for the
fireworks since I was fifteen.”
After she sat down, I handed her the plates. “I’m going to see what else
there is to drink.”
“Don’t like the beer?” Her lips twitched as she held up the bottle she’d
picked up along with a refill of her cocktail.
Straight-faced, I said, “I figure I should stay sober since I’m driving you
home in a few hours.”
She laughed. “Okay, you stick with that story.”
Her laugh caught me and held me mesmerized. I wanted to stroke my hands
over her face and tangle them in her hair every time she laughed like that,
cover her mouth with mine and claim every inch of it.
“Derrick…” Her breath caught.
“What?” I reached down and stroked her full bottom lip, my dick starting to
pulse when her eyes darkened.
“You keep looking at me like that, and I…”
“You what?” I asked when she didn’t continue.
“I don’t know.” Shaking her head, she reached for her cup and took a sip. “I
just don’t know, but you make it very, very hard to think straight.”
Taking a chance, I leaned down and kissed her, tasting the spice and
sweetness of her drink on her mouth and under that, her.
“It’s about time. You’ve been making it hard for me to think straight since I
met you.”

“WHY DON’T you go up a block?” Jessica said when I slowed to the space
in front of her building where I usually stopped when picking her up or
dropping her off.
“Why?”
She licked her lips, then looked at me. “Because you can park there all
night.”
Her eyes met mine only briefly before darting away, but there was no
mistaking the meaning in her words.
“Will Jami be okay with that?” I asked, twisting a loose curl around my
finger. I was aware her friend couldn’t stand me, and I wasn’t certain I
blamed her entirely. “Maybe we should—”
“Jami went back home to Jersey for the weekend.” She tentatively stroked
her thumb over my lower lip before sliding her fingers along my jaw. “I’ve
got the place to myself. And…”
She hesitated, but I made myself stay quiet. As much as I wanted to pull her
closer, steal that mouth, suck on her lower lip, and pull her hair free, so it
spilled around her shoulders, I stayed quiet. I wanted – no, I needed – to
hear what she had to say.
“If I’m honest,” she said finally. “I’m physically attracted to you. I’ve
enjoyed spending time with you…and I don’t see myself going through the
next fourteen months without ending up in your bed.” Her breasts rose and
fell as she drew in a rough breath. “But the first time…I want it to be at my
place, under my control. I don’t want to do anything kinky.”
“That’s fine.” The words came out like grit and sand, my throat so tight it
was a wonder I could speak at all. “You don’t need to feel compelled to do
anything you’re not ready for.”
Her smile was shaky and nervous. I couldn’t resist kissing her this time.
I shoved my hand into her hair, tugged tight, and groaned as she opened for
me. She tasted like chocolate and the cocktails she’d sipped on all day.
Fucking sex and sunshine.
“Where’s the parking garage?”
Twenty minutes later, inside her apartment, she locked the door, and I let
her come to me, so I wouldn’t be tempted to shove her against the door and
fuck her right there. If I didn’t get this right tonight, I knew she’d never risk
it again.
“Do you want a drink?” she asked quietly.
“No. I want you.”
She blushed but took my hand and led me deeper into the small apartment.
Her bedroom was neat, organized, and feminine without being fussy. I stood
there and realized I hadn’t been in a woman’s bedroom in years. I either
took dates home, or we used a hotel or a private room at the club. But I
didn’t go home with women.
“I need a minute,” Jessica said shyly.
She grabbed something from the top drawer of her dresser and slipped
across the hall into what I assumed was the bathroom. The door closed and
I heard water turn on, then off again. I picked up a picture of Jessica with
her parents—her college graduation photo. They looked insanely proud of
her, all three smiling and happy. I put it back on the dresser, facedown. The
idea of her parents’ faces being right there while we fucked just made me
feel weird.
When I heard a sound, I turned and saw her in the doorway. My blood
drained south, rushing to pool in my groin at the sight of her. The pale
purple silk made her sun-kissed skin look even warmer and softer. Her
nipples stabbed into the material, hard and tight.
I reached for the hem of my t-shirt, stripped it off, kicked off my shoes, and
dealt with my socks, all while still staring at her.
Her cheeks burned pinker with every second.
“Come here,” I said softly.
She did so, moving slowly. I took the box of condoms from her. She’d
either been planning for this or she was just well-prepared. Opening it, I
tore one off, put both on the small nightstand, then pulled her toward me as
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’ll get tested Monday,” I said. “I do it routinely, but you’ll feel better…
and I’d rather not wear condoms all the time.”
She jerked her head in a nod. “I take birth control, but until you get
screened…I’ll get one, too.”
“Good.” Tugging her onto my lap and guiding her legs until she straddled
me, I cupped her ass in one hand and curved the other around her neck.
“Kiss me.”
She lowered her head and brushed her lips over mine, once…twice…
On the third delicate caress, I growled and took control, thrusting my
tongue past her lips and into her mouth. She tensed, then opened with a soft
moan. My hands gripped the warm, taut curve of her ass more firmly, and I
kneaded the flesh, guiding her until she was rocking against me.
Broken moans came from her throat, and I stole them away, tucking them
aside to recall later, along with the feel of her skin, silky soft against me.
I tore my mouth from hers and kissed a path to her ear. “Your pussy is
already wet for me, isn’t it?”
She pressed her face into my neck, and I felt the hot burn of her cheeks as
she nodded. I didn’t let her embarrassment stop me from tugging her up to
face me.
“I can skip the kinky sex, but I doubt I can avoid talking and telling you
what I’m thinking, Jess,” I said. “I want you too much. Will that be a
problem?”
Her eyes went wide and hazy, and she shook her head. “Nuh…no.”
“Good.” Securing her against me with an arm around her waist, I rose, then
turned and placed her on the bed, stretching out next to her. “These tits have
driven me crazy all day.”
I teased her nipples through the silk, cupping one breast, then the other,
before easing the skinny straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. I tugged
until I could free her breasts, the pale purple silk bunched beneath. Her
mouth parted with a gasp as I took one swollen nipple into my mouth.
As she shuddered and pushed against me, I slid my hand between her thighs
and cupped her pussy.
“Derrick!”
Scoring her nipple with my teeth, I parted her folds with my fingers and
found her as wet as I’d hoped. Her clit was already swollen, a hard little
knot I easily found with my fingertip. One stroke had her shoving her hips
upward with a strangled moan.
“Shh…” I murmured, dipping my finger into her cunt. “There’s no rush.”
I wanted to taste her, take my time. Savor every second.
But she whimpered and pushed against me again, a harsh cry escaping her
when I stroked another finger into her, circling her clit again with my
thumb.
“Derrick, please!”
Sliding a look at her face, I pressed more firmly against her. “Needy…and
hot…do you want to come, Jessica?”
“I…” Her eyes glazed over as I began to stroke her clit more firmly. Her
mouth parted on a cry, skin flushed a deeper rose, and she rocked
desperately against my hand.
“Fuck, you’re already close, aren’t you?” The knowledge that I could get
her so close so quickly stroked my ego.
I raked my teeth down her neck as I crooked my fingers inside her,
searching for that spot that would send her over the edge. The moment my
fingertips rubbed against it, she exploded, crying out and arching her spine
while her hands grabbed onto my arms and her nails sliced my skin.
“Fuck,” I snarled, shoving up onto my elbow to take her mouth. She was
still moaning and rocking against me, breathless as she shivered through her
orgasm. So fucking needy. As my tongue stroked hers, my thumb moved
over her clit with soft caresses, working her to the end of her climax before
pulling away.
She reached for me, and I caught her hand, kissed her palm. Then I stood
up, unfastened my jeans, and shoved them off, taking my boxers with them.
Staring at my body greedily, she shifted restlessly on the bed, the emerald-
green comforter a perfect backdrop for pale, smooth flesh, the purple
nightie twisted around her waist, hiding nothing.
I picked up the condom, wishing like hell I didn’t need it. I wanted to feel
that wet cunt around me so bad, but safety always came first. I tore the
wrapper open, and rolled it on with more haste than I could remember
having in a long time.
My hands shook as I stretched out on top of her, pushing her thighs apart
with my knee to make room for me in the cradle of her hips. My eyes met
hers as I reached down and lightly touched the sensitive skin between her
legs.
“I’m eating that pussy of yours after this…but I need to fuck you first.”
She swallowed, a nervous look in her eyes. I waited for her to tell me she’d
changed her mind, but instead, she nodded once, telling me that she was
still with me.
Holding her gaze, I fisted my cock and tucked the head against her core,
groaning at the heat of her, delicious even through the condom. “We’re
getting those tests done ASAP. I want to feel you naked around my dick.
Got it?”
“Yes.” She nodded jerkily, lashes fluttering as I started to push into her.
“Open your eyes,” I ordered. “I want to see you.”
Her lashes lifted a fraction. Good enough. Gripping her thigh, I pushed in
deeper, savoring the groan that came out of her. I moved slowly, pulling out
every time she tightened up on me, before going forward again to give her a
little more. I was sweating by the time I was fully buried inside her, and she
was panting, sharp little gasps escaping her as she trembled under me.
Eyes on her, I pulled out, almost to the tip, then thrust back inside, hard and
deep.
She cried out and caught my shoulders. “Derrick!”
“Too much?” I rotated my hips, rubbing her clit with the base of my cock
even as the shaft inside pressed against her g-spot.
She nodded, then shook her head. “Yes…I don’t know.”
“Let’s try it again.”
She moaned on the second thrust and her pussy gripped tight on the third.
I smiled. “I think you want more.”
“Yes…” Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy.
“Good girl.”
Burying my free hand in her hair, I took her mouth and then I took her,
riding her deep, rough and hard until she splintered around me. Only after
she was shaking with her second climax did I let myself find release. And it
was as glorious and mind-blowing as I’d imagined.
Breathing hard, I pulled out and rolled to the side. After a minute, I stood,
and dealt with the condom. She was still struggling to catch her breath
when I came out of the bathroom, but when I caught her hips in my hands
and pulled her to the edge of the bed, her eyes shot open, surprise mingled
with lust.
“Now…” I nipped the inside of her thigh. “I’ve got to see just how good
this pussy tastes.”
NINETEEN
 JESSICA

“E verything in your partial looks wonderful , B ristol ,” J ami said , a

pleased grin on her face as she looked at her iPad where Bristol and her
agent, Imani, were on a Zoom conference call.
We’d gotten the partial earlier, and now Imani had sent the full manuscript,
which Jami and I planned to read this week. A phone call this early was
unorthodox, but I was so excited to sign Bristol, and I knew her book would
be a hit, so when Bristol asked if we could talk, I’d gone ahead and told
Jami to call her.
But despite how enthused I was about this book, I couldn’t focus.
Jami shot me a telling look over her iPad, and I jerked my attention back to
the discussion, picking up the tablet I used to read through the manuscript
earlier.
“I love everything about this, Bristol. But you already know that.” Smiling,
I added, “I totally adore the chapter on why we shouldn’t settle.”
Jami cleared her throat, almost obnoxiously loud as she did so, and took a
drink of her coffee. Face flushing, I picked up my thermal cup of ice water
and took a sip, pointedly not looking at Jami. This was neither the time nor
the place for her disapproval.
Besides, I wasn’t settling. My relationship with Derrick was complex, but it
had nothing to do with me feeling like I couldn’t do better.
“Is everything all right?” Bristol asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Jami answered before I could.
“So what comes next?” Imani asked.
“We’ll go over the full manuscript, but it will take a little while before we
can commit to anything firm. You know how the business works.” Giving
Bristol an encouraging look, I said, “Just keep in mind, things in publishing
move slowly. It will probably be a month or so before you hear anything
concrete. But you know I love this book.”
A few minutes later, after we’d all signed off on the call, Jami rose, but
instead of leaving, she closed the door.
She’d kept her mouth shut when I’d told her that I planned to invite Derrick
to spend the Fourth with my family and when I’d admitted to her yesterday
that Derrick had spent the night with me. She hadn’t been happy, but she
hadn’t said anything about it.
Now, I realized that she’d just been biding her time.
“What are you doing, Jess?” She shook her head, confusion in her eyes.
“You’re getting all dewy-eyed about a man who is literally paying you to
date and marry him. A cold-hearted asshole who doesn’t care about anyone
but himself.”
 

NONE OF THAT WAS TRUE. Not really. Derrick wasn’t the hard,
callous ass he projected to the world. He listened to me when we talked. He
was courteous and held doors. He made me laugh, and most of all, he made
me feel good about myself.
And the other night…my heart raced just thinking about it.
“It’s not that simple,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure it is,” she countered, folding her arms. “Derrick Thomas is
a massive douchebag who wouldn’t know how to do the right thing if
someone gave him a blueprint.”
“Really?” Irritation made my voice sharper than I meant for it to be. “I
knew you didn’t want to hear about how things went on the Fourth, so I
didn’t tell you what he did, but now I think you need to know.”
“I don’t care.”
“He practically saved my nephew’s life.” Jami gave me a skeptical look and
I continued, “Well, Brayden might not have died, but he would have been
seriously injured, maybe even lost his hand. He was doing one of those
stupid internet challenges and this one was to let a firecracker go off in the
palm of your hand. Except Brayden didn’t realize he had to keep his hand
flat.”
Jami’s eyes widened. She might not have liked Derrick, but she at least
appreciated the seriousness of what Brayden had done.
“Derrick saw what Brayden was doing and knocked the firecracker out of
Brayden’s hand before it went off.”
Jami shifted but her expression didn’t soften. “I’m glad your cousin’s okay,
but just because Derrick stopped Brayden from being seriously injured
doesn’t undo all the shit Derrick has done.”
I thought of the things he’d let me add to our deal even though he could’ve
countered with money or even found someone else to be part of his
experiment. And he’d agreed to exclusivity, even when our contract said no
sex. Then I remembered how careful he’d been with me every time he’d
approached a physical boundary, always willing to back off if I said no.
How, even when the sex hadn’t exactly been gentle, there’d been a
tenderness about him.
No, it didn’t undo the things Derrick had done, but he wasn’t just a hot
asshole in a suit either.
“People change, Jami,” I said. “I have to believe that.”
“Being good in bed doesn’t mean he’s a better person.”
Friend or not, she now crossed a line.
“That’s enough,” I snapped. “You need to focus on work, and I’ll deal with
my personal life. Because it’s my life.”
Jami stiffened, her spine snapping into a rigid line. “Fine. Fuck me for
worrying about you.”
The hurt in her voice jabbed at me, but she turned and left before I could
reply.
“Dammit,” I said to the empty room. I wanted to go after her and apologize
for snapping. Sure, I meant what I’d said but I could’ve said it better.
But, I knew my friend and she needed time to cool off before she’d be ready
to accept an apology. Maybe on my way home tonight I’d stop and pick up
her favorite Indian take-out and some butter rum ice cream. Then I’d give
her whatever space she needed.
Speaking of space.
I headed for the gender-neutral bathroom at the far end of the hall by the
stairwell, not wanting to be around anybody for a few minutes. That was
pretty much the only place I could think of that would guarantee me some
privacy.
Except, barely a second later, somebody followed me into the bathroom. I
spun around, startled.
Derrick shut and locked the door before coming toward me. Eyes searching
my face, he reached out and brushed back my hair.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I offered the same lie from a few minutes earlier.
“Jessica.” His voice held a warning.
“A headache. That’s all.”
A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I can help with that. Turn
around.”
I glanced at the door.
“Nobody saw me come in,” he assured me. “Turn around.”
I did so slowly, my stomach twisting in anticipation. His hands slid up my
back and settled on my shoulders, sending a shiver through me.
“Ohhhh…” The moan that came out of me was almost orgasmic.
He noticed and dipped his head to press a kiss to the top of my spine. “You
make another sound like that, and I might just have to bend you over the
counter and lick your pussy until you scream.”
My knees went weak, and I gripped the counter.
“No comment?”
“I…” Swallowing, I said, “We’re at work. We should…work.”
He laughed softly and kissed the spot under my ear. “I’ve been trying to do
that half the morning, baby. I keep thinking about how you felt wrapped
around my dick. How you tasted…fuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. I had
my screening appointment this morning. Results will be in soon. You?”
“This afternoon.”
He tugged on the hem of my skirt. “Let me touch you.”
I caught his wrist. “Derrick…”
He sighed. “Soon.”
When he stepped back, I felt bereft. Spinning around, I caught his arm
before he could reach the door. “Wait.”
I knew this was a bad idea, but I still pushed him against the door and
kissed him, desperate for another taste of him. He growled against my
mouth and spun us around, grinding his hips against me. The light summer
dress I wore was a little barrier, and the feeling of him being hard for me
sent a thrill through me.
When he pulled at the bottom of my dress again, I didn’t stop him.
“Yes or no,” he whispered, trailing his fingers along the waistband of my
panties.
“Yes.”
He slammed his mouth over mine, pushed his hand inside my panties even
he thrust his tongue into my mouth. Then his fingers were in me, and my
pussy was clenching around them. I moaned into his mouth, clutching at the
front of his shirt as he fucked me with his fingers, driving in and out with
rapid, almost brutal strokes, each designed to get me to orgasm as fast as
possible.
“Come for me,” he whispered against my lips. “Let me feel it.”
A stroke over my clitoris followed the words, and I trembled, skin hot and
flushed, my nipples so tight they hurt. “Please…”
“Come, Jessica.” He bit my lower lip.
I came with a startled cry he caught with his mouth, and he groaned as I
worked myself against his hand, quivering as the orgasm rocked me.
“Delicious,” he whispered a few seconds later, stroking fingers wet from me
over my lower lip, then sucking the taste away.
He stepped back only after my knees had steadied, lingering to smooth a
hand down my back, over my hip.
“Can I buy you lunch tomorrow?” he asked.
I nodded, my throat tight and my head spinning from the way he’d just
taken care of me. And that’s what it’d been. He’d taken nothing for himself,
asked for nothing in return. And that’d been the way all of the sexual things
had gone with us, I realized. No matter how often he pissed me off, the one
place I’d never had reason to doubt him was in the bedroom.
“I’ll go out first. Give it a few minutes, then you leave. Nobody will
notice.”
“Okay.” I pushed away from the door and moved to the mirror to adjust my
dress. As I watched him in the mirror, a desperate need grabbed me,
something I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since that night at the
club. “Derrick?”
He paused and looked back, meeting my eyes in the reflection.
“If…if I want to know more about your world…what you like, will you
show me?”
A slow, sensual smile curved his lips. “Do you want to know more?”
Did I want to know what it would be like to have him dominate me? To try
out some of the things I’d seen at the club? Did I want to trust him enough
to take care of my every need? Trust him to teach me to take care of him the
way he needed?
Did I want to add one more crazy, new thing to my life right now?
“Yes.”
He studied me for a moment, as if searching for any doubt. I might have
some later, but right now, my mind was set, and I let him see that.
“I’d love to.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “This weekend?”
I nodded and hoped I knew what I was getting into.
TWENTY
 DERRICK

E ven though I wasn ’ t into the extreme side of the BDSM world , I
enjoyed enough kink that I’d converted one of my bedrooms into a
playroom. That, however, wasn’t where Jessica and I would spend this
evening. Not wanting to freak her out, I’d set up one of my guest rooms,
laying out the toys and other items that I thought wouldn’t be too much for
her.
I’d sent my driver for her a short while ago and then double-checked
everything. Now, I was leaning against the counter, sipping my scotch, and
trying to pretend I wasn’t as nervous as a virgin on prom night. It annoyed
me, actually, the level of anxiety I’d felt since Jessica had asked me to teach
her more about my world. Calm, cool, and collected were my defining
characteristics and what made me a good Dom. I needed to get my shit
together before Jessica got here.
That was one of the reasons I’d barely spent any time with her since I’d left
her office on Wednesday. She threw me off my game in a way that no one
else ever had.
The intercom buzzed and I pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Your guest has arrived,” the concierge said, voice cool and polite. “She’s
on her way up to your room.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t say anything else, just hung up the phone and waited for the
doorbell. I’d sent Jessica a gift earlier today with instructions for her to
wear it here tonight, and the anticipation of finally seeing her in it had me
opening my door before she rang the bell.
My timing was impeccable. The elevator doors had just opened, framing
my gorgeous date before she stepped into the hallway. I watched her come
toward me, admiring every inch of her, but waited to speak until she was
within arm’s reach.
“Jessica. You look beautiful.”
She flushed and glanced down at the dress, a glittery piece of smoky gray
mesh suspended from black metal chains on her shoulders. It dipped low in
the front, revealing a luscious hint at the firm breasts that I knew were bare
beneath the material because no bra would work with it. The slits on the
sides went so high on her hips that only the tiniest thong was possible, and
her heels only added to how long her legs looked.
The entire thing was positively indecent.
“I’m not sure if I should have even bothered with the panties,” she said, her
voice catching. “Although at least I could get out of the limo without
flashing your driver.”
“My driver knows how to keep his eyes to himself.” I smiled and stepped
aside. “Come inside.”
She did, and I smoothed a hand over the elegant length of her back, left bare
by the dress, pausing at the crystal chains near the base of her spine.
“Would you like a drink?”
She nodded, the slightly frantic look in her eyes betraying her nerves. I took
her hand and led her to the couch. As she sat, I poured her a glass of
champagne and then went to sit next to her. She took the glass and sipped,
eyes darting around warily.
“You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’d think that was normal,” she said softly.
“It is,” I agreed. “Let me see if I can put your mind at ease at least a little.
First, nothing happens tonight without your consent. If at any time you want
to stop, you use your safe word, and everything stops. No hurt feelings, no
repercussions.”
She nodded. “I did a little research after we went to your club?”
I raised an eyebrow, but I wasn’t really surprised. “All right then. Do you
know what safe word you want to use?”
“Books.” She hitched a shoulder and offered a wry smile. “I can’t think of
anything else that will be easy to recall.”
“Books, it is.” I picked up a strawberry and held it to her lips. “You’ll want
more on your stomach than just the alcohol.”
She took a bite and licked the juice off her lips before taking another sip of
champagne. My pants tightened as I thought about what those lips would
feel like wrapped around my cock.
“What are...” She cleared her throat. “I’d like to know what you’re planning
on doing.”
Flags of color rose high on her cheeks as she looked at me. The eye contact
caught me off-guard for a moment before I remembered that she didn’t
know subs were supposed to keep their gaze down and not look at their
masters.
Damn, this was going to be fun teaching her.
“I’m going to restrain you.” Sliding my eyes along her body slowly, then
back up, I said, “I’ve had several fantasies about you with your hands
bound behind your back. Rope would be my preference, but that takes some
getting used to and isn’t ideal for a first-time session. So, I’ll use cuffs with
soft insides. And then, I plan on fucking your mouth.”
Her breath hitched and her pupils dilated. I picked up the scotch I’d poured
myself earlier and took a sip.
“Do you have a problem with any of that?”
She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “No.”
“Now, Sir or Master. Pick one.”
She looked up at me, a spark in her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“When I’m in control, my partners don’t get to call me anything else,” I
said with a wicked smile. “Sir or Master?”
After a moment, she said, “Sir.”
“Good girl.” I brushed a hand over her head before feeding her another
strawberry. “Now, after you suck my cock, I’m going to play with you until
I get hard again, and then I’ll fuck you.”
A shiver went through her.
“That play is going to help me discover what you like,” I explained, “as
well as what you don’t. But, if you have ideas of anything you definitely
don’t want me to do, tell me now.”
“Hard limits,” she said. “That’s what they’re called, right? Hard limits?”
“Very good,” I said. “As we explore, more will come up, but right now, is
there anything you can think of that would be a hard limit?”
“You said we weren’t doing anything extreme, right?” she asked.
“Right.”
She tossed back the rest of her champagne and took a deep breath. “Then
let’s keep that as my hard limit for right now. Nothing extreme.”
“And if something feels extreme, you use your safe word.”
She nodded her agreement. “When do we start?”
The blunt question would’ve been surprising from anyone but her. She
stared at me, nerves apparent in her eyes but hunger, too.
Rising, I held out my hand. “Right this way.”
I led her to the guest room where I instructed her to stand by the bed and
turn around. I took a moment to admire the lithe line of her body before
picking up the cuffs that I’d set out. Leather, with soft cotton lining the
insides, they’d keep her hands where I wanted them but wouldn’t leave any
marks. It was one thing for people at work to know that we were a couple,
but something else entirely for them to suspect what we got up to in our
personal lives.
After fastening them into place, I turned her around and pressed on her
shoulder to put her down on her knees. Then I took a step back to admire
her like that. Gaze fogged with heat and still a lick of nerves, she watched
me, eyes following as I unbuttoned my shirt, leaving it hanging open over
my chest. A good sub would’ve had her head down, waiting for instruction,
but I couldn’t deny that I liked having her eyes on me.
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. It’d been stiff and throbbing
from the moment she’d arrived and it was all I could do to hold back a
moan when my fingers wrapped around it. I pumped once, twice, then
pressed the head against her mouth.
She parted her lips, but I pushed a hand into her hair to hold her still. “Say,
‘Sir, I want you to fuck my mouth.’”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at my hand, where I continued to
stroke myself. My brain almost melted as she said, “Sir, I want you to fuck
my mouth.”
“Good girl. Open up.” I pressed the head to her mouth and bit back a groan
as she opened.
Control, Derrick…stay in control…
But it was harder than expected. Her hair was silk around my hand, her
mouth soft and wet, her tongue rubbing over the vein on the underside of
my dick.
Fuuuuck.
I rocked into her, driving into her mouth until she stiffened, showing me her
limit. I wanted more, needed more, but my balls were already drawn tight,
my dick pounding, the need to come hitting me harder than I would have
expected—no time to coax her into learning how to take me deeper.
Not tonight anyway.
So I used her faster, rougher, watching her face, seeing her eyes flicker and
flutter, feeling her moan around me.
“I’m going to come,” I told her harshly. “Shake your head if you want me to
stop.”
She just stared at me…then sucked the head of my dick.
“Fuck,” I snarled, some of my control fracturing. Grabbing her head in both
hands, I fucked her mouth roughly, hands in her hair, watching my dick
tunnel back and forth between her lips. The orgasm tore out of me, and I
stiffened, jerking inside her mouth and biting back a stream of curses.
I’d fucking lost control.
Stunned and a little pissed, I pulled back. Breathing hard, I tugged my pants
up, half-zipped them to keep them in place. I’d planned to come, but not
like that. I cupped her chin and tipped her head up so I could see her.
“You okay?”
She nodded, a dazed expression on her face.
“Let’s get you naked and fix those restraints.” I helped her to her feet.
“We’re just getting started.”
TWENTY-ONE
 JESSICA

M y jaw ached in a new way and my lips felt swollen but there was
a strange sense of pride too. I’d given oral sex before, but this had been
something different, even without my hands being cuffed behind my back.
Derrick had taken control, but I’d always known that I could take it back,
that he would stop if I needed him to. And I’d made him come. This
wealthy, powerful man.
As he helped me to my feet, I suddenly realized that my barely-there
panties were soaked.
“Why are you blushing?” Derrick asked as he slipped his fingers beneath
the straps of my dress.
I shook my head, unable to meet his eyes.
“Jessica.” His voice was sharp. “Answer me. Why are you blushing?”
I wanted to refuse him, tell him it wasn’t any of his business, but even I
knew that a sub was supposed to do what the Dom said. It wasn’t as if he’d
asked me to do something awful.
“I’m wet.” The words were barely above a whisper.
“Say that again,” he demanded. “And remember what you’re supposed to
call me.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m wet, Sir.”
“Me fucking your mouth turned you on that much?” He slipped the straps
of my dress over my shoulders and the cool fabric dropped to the floor.
“Shit, Jess. You’re perfect.”
I looked up, watching as he took a step back to get a better look at me. My
tiny panties barely covered anything and, aside from my heels, they were
the only thing I wore. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, not
really comfortable in my near-nudity, but Derrick didn’t seem phased by the
fact that he was completely naked so I tried to emulate him.
“Turn around.”
I did as he said, waiting for him to strip off that last bit of my clothing, but
instead, he ordered me to kneel on the bed. Once I did, he came up behind
me and pressed his hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down
onto the bed. With my arms behind my back, I had to turn my head and rest
my weight on my shoulders and the top part of my chest.
“You have beautiful skin,” Derrick said. “And I’ve been imagining what it
would look like with my handprint on it.”
That was all the warning I had before his hand came down on my ass with a
loud crack. I jerked, gasping more at the shock than at the pain. It stung,
then turned into a light burning sensation. I’d only just had time to process
before Derrick smacked the other cheek.
“I want you to count,” he said. When I didn’t respond, he reached under me
and pinched my nipple.
I yelped, then realized what he was waiting for. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
The next hit was harder than the first ones had been, making me catch my
breath before I managed to say, “One.”
He never came down in the exact same spot twice, the heat spreading across
my skin…and then to some place new. Each blow made my pussy throb in a
way that I didn’t quite understand. I’d known that there were people who
enjoyed being spanked, but I’d never really thought about it being sexually
appealing. Now, my body was telling me that it liked this bite of pain.
“Eight.”
I braced myself for another blow, but it didn’t come. Instead, I felt fingers
dip beneath my panties and caress my sensitive skin before he tugged the
last garment off and tossed it aside. As I resettled onto the bed, a single
digit slipped between my folds. I shivered, then moaned when he slid that
finger inside me.
“Did you enjoy being spanked?” Derrick asked. “Tell me, baby. Did you
like it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Thank you for telling the truth.”
I should have been embarrassed by the confession, but instead, I basked in
the praise and focused just on what was happening here.
“You deserve a reward for that.”
Before I could ask, a second finger joined the first. As he worked his
fingers in and out of me, a new sensation demanded my attention. A subtle
pressure on my asshole that turned into rubbing a small circle over the ring
of muscle.
“Derrick…”
The slap on my ass was harder than before, startling me.
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Don’t worry, baby.” He pressed his thumb against my ass again, but not
hard enough to actually penetrate. “Just playing a bit. Soon, I’ll get a plug
in here, get you used to what it feels like to have something in your ass.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, unsure exactly how I felt about what was
happening, what he was saying.
“When I finally fuck your ass, I want you to feel it, but I won’t hurt you.”
I made a small sound.
“Trust me, baby.” He twisted his fingers, knuckles rubbing against my g-
spot and making me jerk involuntarily. “Do you trust me?”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
It was the truth, at least under these circumstances. I wasn’t sure how much
I trusted him in any other way, but here, like this, I did. Right now, that was
all that mattered.
“Now, let’s see how you like that pretty clit stroked.”
How this man talked…
The fingers inside me withdrew and moved down to that throbbing bundle
of nerves. He explored with the sort of deliberation that I’d seen him
display in other areas. The tip of a finger teased along one side of my clit
and then the other. I shivered as a ripple of pleasure ran through me. Then
he tapped the top of it and the jolt made me gasp.
“Too much?” he asked.
I shook my head, then yelped as he smacked my ass. I didn’t need him to
tell me what I’d done wrong this time. “No, Sir. Not too much.”
“That’s better.”
He returned his thumb to my asshole, teasing it even as his fingers went
back to my clit. He didn’t seem to be in any rush as he made circles around
and over the swollen nub, then back and forth passes, each one eliciting
varying degrees of responses from me, and I had no doubt he cataloged
every single one.
Without a word, his hands moved down and around to cup my breasts. He
palmed the firm mounds for a moment, squeezing them before turning his
attention to my nipples. I moaned as he rubbed his thumbs across them,
then plucked at the hardened points. Each pinch and twist was a little
harder, a little rougher, until I finally cried out.
“Too much?”
“No – no, Sir.” It was a shock to say the words, to admit them to him even
as I admitted them to myself.
It’d hurt, but this wasn’t like any type of pain I’d experienced until tonight.
Only the sensation of being spanked came close, and this was sharper. But I
still liked it.
“Good girl.”
I cursed as he shoved two fingers inside me, twisting thrusts that
immediately sent a rush of pleasure through me. The hand still playing with
my nipple kept at it, filling my body with additional sensations. I rushed
toward release, my body having been primed for action from the moment I
walked into the apartment.
Hell, if I was being honest, I’d been anticipating this since I’d stepped foot
in that club.
I let out an inarticulate yell as I came, every muscle in my body tensing. I
barely registered when Derrick stopped touching me, but then I was
suddenly filled as he buried himself inside me with one smooth motion. My
mouth opened, but no sound escaped. I couldn’t even breathe as he
slammed into me a second time. His fingers sank into my hips, adding yet
another bite of pain for my frazzled nerves to register.
“Fuck, Jess,” he growled. “Babe, your cunt is so fucking tight.”
Even if I’d been able to speak, I didn’t have any kind of response to that.
“I’m going to fuck you hard.” His voice was strained, as if it took
everything in him to hold back while he spoke to me. “If it’s too much for
you to handle, say your safe word.”
I nodded, half-expecting Derrick to spank me again for not using my words,
but he must’ve known I couldn’t form anything coherent at the moment
because the smack never came. Instead, his fingers flexed, giving me his
only additional warning before he began fucking me.
Hard.
Every thrust drove the air from my lungs, made my cells vibrate and nerves
sing. He stretched me so wide and went so deep that I felt like he might tear
me in half, but the white-hot pleasure coursing through me made it think it
might’ve been worth it.
Except even as my body felt as if it couldn’t take another second of the
near-brutal pounding, a part of me knew that he wouldn’t give me anything
I couldn’t handle. Still, with every stroke pushing me closer and closer to
my limit – at least for right now – I could feel myself reaching the edge.
“Come for me, baby,” Derrick ordered. “I need to feel you come on my
cock.”
I’d read books where women came on command, and I’d never really
believed it could happen, but there was something about the tone of his
voice, combined with all of the physical sensations overwhelming me…
I came and the world grayed out around me.
“Shhh…easy…”
Derrick’s voice brought me back, my body quivering as he stroked his
hands over my spine. My breath was still coming hard and fast, my head a
rush of noise, chaos, and emotion while my skin felt too hot, too thin, too
stretched for everything inside me. Between my legs, I felt raw, almost
bruised, and the skin of my ass burned. My shoulders and neck ached, but I
suddenly realized that my hands were free, and my arms dropped to my
sides. I slumped to the bed, boneless.
Something cool and damp stroked between my legs, and I squirmed. “What
are you….”
“Just wiping you off,” he murmured.
“I’d rather you didn’t!” Embarrassment washed over me, and I tried to
move away, but my body wouldn’t obey me.
I started shaking, the rush of heat that had permeated my every pore only
moments ago draining out.
“Here.”
I didn’t have a chance to look up before something soft and warm wrapped
around me. Then Derrick pulled me onto his lap, cradling me in his arms as
I shivered, surprised at the chill setting in.
“It’s just the aftereffects of the adrenaline fading away,” he explained softly
before brushing his lips over my temple. “The first time is the worst
because you don’t know how to handle it or what to expect. Just breathe…it
will ease up in a few minutes.”
Breathing was the only thing I could do other than lay limp against him. He
kept murmuring to me, hands moving over my back, shoulders, and thighs
everywhere he could reach. Even though the blanket kept him from
touching bare skin, the friction and pressure was soothing.
Bit by bit, the chills settled, and he nuzzled my neck. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure that’s the word,” I said, my voice raspy.
I suddenly remembered screaming his name during my climax.
I could feel him smile against me. Then he eased me off his lap, knocking
the blanket off my legs. It was too cold after the warmth of his body, but it
felt awkward to reach for him.
“I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He brushed my hair
back.
Water sounded wonderful, so I curled my knees to my chest and winced as
muscles pulled and the blanket rubbed against several tender areas.
My lids felt heavy, and I actually started to drift off, but the bed gave way
beneath me, and Derrick was back. “Here, baby. Drink this.”
I took the water, startled by how clumsy and weak my hand felt, but when
he tried to help, I shook my head.
“I can drink a glass of water on my own,” I snapped. Immediately, I
flushed, not sure why I was so…irritable.
Derrick didn’t look concerned. He just waited, and when I was done with
the water, he took the glass and leaned forward to put it on the table. He
took my hand, lifted it to his lips, then froze.
“You bruise easily.”
Confused, I looked down and gasped at the mottled markings on my wrists.
My cheeks burned hot, and he looked up and met my gaze. Something soft
hovered in the back of his eyes for a moment before it vanished.
“As fair as you are, I should have expected as much. We’ll have to be more
careful in the future.” He spoke matter-of-factly as he reached for
something next to him. I swallowed, my heart fluttering nervously, although
I wasn’t sure what caused the nerves—probably the, in the future reference.
His eyes met mine again, and I tore my attention away, and stared as he
wrapped something cold and blue around one wrist, then the other. “Ice
packs. We’ll do them for fifteen minutes for the next hour…it helps
minimize the bruising.”
I blushed when I saw the chaffed, purply black skin. I hadn’t even thought
about what it would mean if he did something that bruised me in a place
that’d be visible.
“On your stomach,” he instructed. “If your wrists are bruised from the soft
restraints, your ass is going to be too.”
I did as he said, cheeks heating up as he lifted up the blanket and put
something cold on my ass. I breathed out a shaky sigh as relief spread
through me.
“Did you enjoy yourself, Jessica?” He started massaging my leg, the touch
light, almost impersonal. But my body already knew the feel of his, and just
the brush of his fingers on my skin made things inside me quake.
Closing my eyes, I fought to control my breathing. I wasn’t prepared for
this…not for any of it, not for the intensity of the sex, not for how he’d all
but taken me over…and not for his slow, tender care now as he soothed my
bruises and stroked his hands over tight muscles.
“Jessica.”
I turned my head and met his eyes.
“Did you enjoy it?”
I felt stripped bare. “I…” I had to clear my throat before I could speak, and
then, because I had to be honest, I said, “I don’t know.”
His mouth curved, which was not the reaction I’d expected. “Alright. Let’s
try this…was there anything you didn’t enjoy?”
“This,” I said sourly, uncomfortable with how vulnerable he made me feel,
with how gentle he was being. And how much I wanted to lean against him.
This wasn’t real. None of it was. And I hated it because this Derrick, with
his slow, warm smile and the look that might be tenderness in his eyes…
this Derrick, I could find myself falling for him. So very easily.
“This…?” He shifted his hands to my other calf, still watching me as he dug
his fingers in and worked out the tension. “Taking care of my submissive is
part of my responsibility as your Dom, Jessica. Taking care of you is just as
much my responsibility – and pleasure – as fucking you.”
His hand slid higher up my leg. As he reached the apex between my thighs,
his touch was no longer caring but sinfully seductive. I found myself
arching my back and raising my hips.
“Just as much as this is my pleasure,” he said in a thick voice. “Spread your
thighs, baby.”
I clenched my hands in the blanket. “I…I’m sore,” I whispered weakly.
“I know. I’m not going to fuck you. Just pleasure you. Spread your thighs.”
Helpless to resist, I did, and he cupped me in his hand just as his mouth
brushed over mine in a deep, sensual kiss.
I whimpered as he pushed one finger into my pussy, my tissues still wet
from him but swollen.
“You’re still so tight,” he whispered as he broke away, biting my lower lip.
His thumb circled my clit slowly.
Shuddering, I clenched around him and pressed my face against the bed.
“That’s it, baby…go over for me.”
He kissed a path down my neck, and gently bit my shoulder. “Go over…”
I climaxed, and it was hot and intense but… lazier …sweeter.
As I whimpered and clung to him, he murmured to me, soft things too low
for me to hear as I struggled to breathe. But his voice was an anchor
through it.
Later, as my mind began to clear, the knowledge started to terrify me.
Laying in his arms in the bed, my body heavy with exhaustion but my mind
unwilling to still, I listened to him breathe as he slept, and I knew I was
standing on the edge of a precipice and it was a dangerous place to be.
I couldn’t risk falling for him.
TWENTY-TWO
 DERRICK

“H ello , darling .”

I watched from the corner of my eye as my mother greeted a second cousin

from my father’s side, both of them exchanging air kisses and smiling like
my mother wasn’t intimidated by a petty bitch who lived for the times she
could cut my mom to ribbons over any perceived mistake. Bernice Thomas
was a shrew, and she turned into a shark without somebody to keep her in
line.
Her eyes landed on my mother’s elegant necklace, and I saw the comment
forming.
“Mom,” I said, not knowing why I did it. “A word?”
Both Bernice and my mother looked up as I stepped away from my date and
toward the two older women. I gave Bernice a hard look and watched as she
wilted and faded into the crowd. Turning my attention to my mom, I asked,
“Did you need another drink?”
She looked startled, but then a hesitant smile came and went. “No,
sweetheart. Thank you.” My mother came closer, and I stiffened, not
wanting her to engage in conversation with me, Jessica, or Drew, but all she
did was place a hand on my arm and said, “It’s good to see you, Derrick.”
After a few seconds without another word, she walked off, melting into the
crowd, greeting people around us and stopping here and there to make
polite conversation, but still standing apart from everything.
Lonely.
The thought came out of nowhere, and I brushed it off.
It was hard not to compare this coolly sophisticated birthday party to the
laid-back get-together Jessica had invited me to with her family. Shitty beer
aside, I’d rather be there, with Jessica leaning against me as I listened to
some absurd story about her and her cousins or somebody teased her
parents because they’d been cuddling again.
I looked over at where Jessica was talking with Drew and thought of how
her eyes had softened when she’d seen her parents dancing as the fireworks
went off over them.
A song had come on, some ballad from the eighties or nineties I couldn’t
place, and Don had pulled Charlotte up from their blanket, saying that it
was their song. And she’d smiled at him, looking more like a teenager in
love than a woman with a grown daughter. They’d danced the whole song
in silence, just looking at each other.
Half the people in the yard had been sneaking glances at them, some
smiling, like Jessica. I’d been trying to remember the last time I’d seen my
parents speak a civil word to each other when it wasn’t required of them.
Back in the present, I watched Drew lean in closer to Jessica and say
something in a low voice. She burst into laughter, a bright, happy sound that
was as out of place at this cool, refined party as my parents would have
been at her family’s warm and friendly cookout. She clapped a hand over
her mouth to muffle the cheerful sound, but her eyes danced as she looked
at my friend.
I wanted to shove him away from her and yank her to my side. I was
halfway to them when I recognized the foreign emotion coursing through
me.
Fuck.
I was jealous.
“You’re terrible,” she said, still watching him as she lowered her hand, her
tone playfully scolding.
Neither of them had seen me coming back and that just pissed me off even
more. How could I be so aware of someone and she wasn’t even wondering
where I’d gone because she was talking to my asshole of a best friend.
“You can’t deny it’s true.” As he looked down at her, a deep grin flashed a
dimple her way.
Before she could answer, I snapped, “Are you going to keep flirting with
my date, Drew, or get one of your own?”
His head jerked to me, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
I knew how he felt. I’d seen him actually come on to women I planned to
sleep with, and I’d never even blinked.
Not bothering with an explanation, I took Jessica’s hand. “Come on…let’s
get a drink. I wanted to introduce you to a few more people.”
It was a lie. I’d only brought her because I couldn’t stand the idea of not
seeing her today, and I couldn’t miss my little sister’s birthday party for
anything. Besides, Amelia and Jessica had hit it off and Amelia told me that
if I didn’t bring Jessica, I’d ruin her birthday forever. As accustomed as I
was to Amelia’s love of hyperbole, I’d always found it difficult to deny her
anything, and this wasn’t even something I didn’t want to do. If anything,
Amelia’s request just gave me permission to do what I’d wanted to do
anyway.
I was beginning to regret it now. I could’ve just stayed at the party for an
hour or so and then spend the rest of the day with Jessica.
We bumped into my sister on our way to the bar, and Amelia grinned at
Jessica. “Are you bored out of your mind yet?” Then, in a flash, Amelia’s
smile disappeared, and her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jessica said quickly. “It’s a great party.”
I frowned. Something was off about Jessica’s tone. I slanted a sideways
look at her, but she didn’t look back. Which, of course, just confirmed my
suspicion that something was wrong, despite what she told Amelia. I
suspected Amelia had noticed that something wasn’t quite right, but she
didn’t push the subject.
“You’re a very good liar, or you’re very diplomatic.” Amelia leaned
forward and said in a low voice, “I’m bored…and I’ve got presents to open.
A lot of them will be boring, too, but some might be fun. If the birthday girl
is bored, everybody else is bored.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jessica said. But her lips twitched.
Damn, I wanted to kiss her.
Amelia shook her head, a glum expression on her face. “Yes. It is.”
One of Dad’s friends stopped next to us, and I seized the moment. “Amelia,
I’ll let your other guests greet you. Jess and I need another drink.”
Amelia glared daggers at me, but I bolted anyway, Jessica’s hand in mine. I
loved my little sister, but right now, I needed a couple minutes with my
girlfriend. I ordered a scotch at the bar and waited while Jessica asked for
water.
“Nothing else?”
She gave me a cool look. “No.”
“It’s not a cash bar,” I said, trying to prod a smile out of her even as my
stomach knotted at the ice in her voice.
“Really. I hadn’t noticed.”
The snarky comment made me more determined to pin her against a wall
somewhere and kiss her, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be welcome. I
needed to figure out what was going on before the whole night was ruined.
The door to our small, informal library ahead caught my eye and an idea
popped into my head. Probably a bad idea, but I couldn’t resist the
opportunity. I tugged her inside, shut the door, and locked it. I turned and
pulled her close, my legs spread so I could bring her in and tuck her hips
against mine.
“God, you’re beautiful, Jessica,” I said, brushing her hair back from her
face.
I wanted to see her eyes light up for me as they had earlier when she’d
laughed with Drew. I wasn’t just saying it to get a reaction though. She truly
was the loveliest thing here. The shimmery, sleeveless peach blouse and
pants made her skin glow. It was the first time I’d seen her without her
wrists covered since last weekend and I felt a slight twist of displeasure that
the marks I’d left were gone. I didn’t want her hurt, but a part of me had
enjoyed seeing the thick bracelets she’d worn to work all week to cover the
healing bruises. We’d been keeping things low-key at work, but I’d liked
knowing that she was never without a reminder that she was mine.
Taking one of her wrists, I went to lift it.
She pulled away, subtly turning and bringing her drink to her lips with her
other hand.
I let her go, narrowing my eyes as she edged away and moved to the wall of
books nearest us. I sipped my scotch as I watched her, but she said nothing,
barely even glancing at the books before turning her back on me.
My temper cracked and I reined it in even as I shoved away from the door
and put my scotch on the nearest table. Coming up behind her, I cupped her
hips in my hands and nuzzled the back of her neck. She stiffened but let me
turn her around, take her water, and set it aside.
Still, her eyes were cool as I slid my hand into her hair, and that wasn’t
what I wanted. I’d take fiery Jessica even if she was yelling at me over this
icy persona.
With thawing her in mind, I went to kiss her. To my shock, she turned her
face away, and my mouth brushed over her cheek.
“Let me go,” she said. Her voice was colder than I’d ever heard it.
“What’s wrong?” Tightening my hand in her hair, I breathed in her scent,
lust making my balls tight and dick hard. “No one will catch us here, I
promise.”
She shoved against my chest, ignoring my grip on her hair. Reflexively, I let
go, and my heart lurched in my chest as she gave me a hard, angry look.
“I’m not your toy, Derrick,” she said as she stepped away from me. “I’m
allowed to have a conversation with another man without you getting pissy
over it.”
“Pissy?” I repeated, insult rising in me. She didn’t know what she was
talking about.
“Yes, Mr. Thomas. Pissy,” she snapped. “If the shoe fits.”
Before I could register what she was doing, she’d slipped back out into the
hallway, closing the door behind her. Fuck! Temper grabbed hold, and I
spun around. I picked up my scotch and tossed it back.
“This is why relationships are too much fucking trouble,” I muttered as I
thought back over the past half hour, trying to figure out what exactly I had
done wrong.
It wasn’t hard once I took an objective look though, and that sucked. Drew
hadn’t been flirting with her. I’d seen him when he was charming his way
into some woman’s pants. I’d just been an ass, wanting Jessica’s attention
centered on me. I was used to commanding attention, period, although there
had always been some women who’d preferred Drew’s easier approach, his
smoother charm to my blunt, sometimes too intense manner, but Jessica
wasn’t supposed to be one of them.
Except Jessica hadn’t flirted with him either, and I couldn’t argue my way
around it.
She’d just smiled at him. Laughed. They’d been getting along and instead
of being happy that my best friend and the woman I intended to be married
to for a year were getting along, I’d behaved like an asshat.
Jealous, a voice inside me whispered. You were jealous.
Fuck.
I went to the mini bar my parents always kept well-stocked and found
myself a bottle of scotch that was even better than what they were serving
at the party.
This would all make for a good chapter in my book…and it also served as a
suitable warning. I was jealous. And I didn’t fucking like it. At all.
My control was shit with her, and I hated it. The worst part was, I had no
idea what to do about it.
This was why I didn’t do relationships.
Damn it all to hell.
TWENTY-THREE
 JESSICA

“W ell … this is nice .” I sat on the couch in D errick ’ s office and

offered a half smile as he served up a plate of sushi from a place we’d
visited for lunch a week before. “And to think I was going to make do with
ramen and a diet coke.”
“Ramen?” He gave me a pained look. “That soup in a cup of crap?”
“Don’t knock my comfort foods,” I said, ignoring his wince. I was getting
used to some of his more elitist bullshit, but it was still annoying. I just
ignored some of it, but I wasn’t changing who I was for him—not for any
amount of money. “But this isn’t bad.”
“Thanks,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
But when I looked at him, he was smiling. “You do more to keep a man’s
head level than anybody I’ve ever met.”
“Oh?” Using my chopsticks to pick up a tuna roll, I popped it into my
mouth. “Well, reality is an interesting place, Mr. Thomas. Welcome to it.”
He laughed, selected a piece of sushi, and then mentioned one of the bigger
projects I was helping on. After that, he asked about the social media
campaigns I’d helped make part of marketing for new books. Then he
surprised me by showing me figures that reflected an increase in sales since
using social media more aggressively.
“It was a smart move. Thank you.”
“Just part of my job.” Hitching up a shoulder in a shrug, I said, “I’ve got the
proposal for that author I told you I wanted to sign. She sent the book in last
week, and it’s strong—very strong. I wanted to know if we could maybe
discuss it…?”
He picked up his plate and shrugged, eyes on his food.
Since he hadn’t said no, I pressed on. He nodded a couple of times but
made no real response. Feeling deflated, I stared at my meal in front of me,
only half-eaten. This was how things always went with him. We’d never
talked about what had happened at his sister’s party this past weekend.
When he’d come out of the library to join me again, he’d basically acted
like nothing had happened. No pissing contest with Drew. No putting the
moves on me in the library. Nothing about what I’d said to him.
If he wanted to talk about something, we did. If he didn’t deem it important
enough to discuss, he essentially ignored it. Half the time, I didn’t think he
even listened to what I said, just nodded or shrugged whenever he thought I
needed a response.
“Anamaria has locked in a location for the wedding and reception.”
Where the hell did that come from?
I stared at him, but he just took a sip of his ice water and glanced at me
before selecting another piece of sushi. “She’s working on the catering
menu as well, so if there are any allergies she needs to be made aware of, let
her know. She’ll contact you for your fitting in the next couple weeks.”
“My fitting,” I said slowly, dread creeping up my spine. “I assume you
mean a fitting for my wedding dress.”
He frowned and asked, “What else would I mean?”
The anger I’d had simmering below the surface since Saturday surged
forward.
“You haven’t even asked me to marry you yet,” I pointed out. “We’re
supposed to date for three months and there’s still more than a month to go.
Not to mention there’s typically a proposal before you even start planning a
wedding. Did I miss it?”
“Why bother?” Derrick didn’t seem to even register the edge to my tone. He
picked up his phone. “We already know you’re marrying me. I’ve heard
enough bitching about the hassle of wedding planning to know it’s a lot of
work. My assistant has been planning events for me for years. She can
handle this one just as well.”
Putting my plate down, I stared at the wall instead of him, blood roaring in
my ears while frustration and hurt welled inside me.
“Your assistant is planning my wedding.”
This couldn’t be real. My chest was tight, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Logically, I knew this wasn’t a real wedding for a real marriage, but no
matter what happened in the future, this was what I’d think of when
someone asked about my wedding. I shouldn’t have been hurt by the fact
that Derrick was treating it like the business deal it was, but he’d told me
that this was supposed to be like a real relationship, and I supposed that,
after I’d trusted him the other night, I’d expected something different.
“My wedding dress?” My voice was low, barely loud enough for him to
hear. “You mentioned a fitting. I assume that means my dress has already
been chosen?”
“A few days ago, I think,” he said absently, his attention on his phone
screen.
I didn’t want to be in this room anymore. Hell, I didn’t want to be anywhere
near him right now. I swallowed my hurt and reminded myself that just
because we’d had sex didn’t mean that I actually meant anything to him.
“I see. I suppose I’ll have to speak with Anamaria then. It might be nice to
see what I’m expected to wear for my wedding.”
Rising, I headed to the door and walked out. I kept my chin up and my
shoulders back, determined that no one would see even a hint of anything
unprofessional in my expression.
He said my name, but I didn’t turn back. When he caught my arm, I
stopped, but only because I didn’t want to get into some sort of tugging
match with my arm being the prize. I still didn’t look at him.
“Yes?” I asked.
“What’s the problem?” His voice was tight, edged with irritation.
He was pissed.
He was pissed?
What. The. Fuck.
The control I had over my temper snapped, and I looked over my shoulder
at him, anger flaring in my eyes and flooding my voice.
“Oh, nothing. I didn’t realize that I’d given up my right to opinions, even
the option to help plan my wedding or select my own fucking wedding
dress, when I signed that contract.”
Using a move I’d learned in a self-defense class, I stepped into him and
instinctively, his hand loosened, and I jerked back out of his reach.
“I assumed I’d at least have the same respect you show to all of your other
business partners, but I see that I was wrong.” With that, I strode out of the
office, my eyes burning.
I told myself not to cry. Why should I? The wedding wasn’t real. None of
this was. Not the wedding, not the affection on Derrick’s part I’d started to
think he actually felt.
It was all just part of his experiment.
And I was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

“ARE you going to tell me what’s bothering you, Jess?”

After the strain of the day, the concern in my mother’s voice almost undid
me, but I plastered a fake smile on my face before looking at her.
“Nothing, Mom. I’m fine.”
She gave me a skeptical look. “Bullshit.”
Startled that my normally mild-mannered mother had just called me out, I
stayed quiet as she came closer and reached up to cup my cheek.
“I know my daughter.” She stroked her thumb over my skin and shook her
head. “I know when you’re upset, when you’re unhappy…and I know when
you’re hiding something from me. You never used to hide things from me.”
Tears threatened, and I knew if I stood there any longer, the truth would
come boiling out—and that would do more harm than good. This was
something I definitely couldn’t talk to either of my parents about.
I stepped around her on the pretext of straightening a shelf. “It’s just work
shit, Mom,” I lied, hating myself as I delivered the statement. “Today was
particularly bad, but it’s nothing you can help with.”
Things had only gotten worse after I left Derrick’s office.
Anamaria had filled me in on everything she’d done so far, including
showing me a picture of my wedding dress. It was beautiful. Everything
was beautiful.
But none of it was me.
It was a billionaire socialite’s wedding, not the wedding of a girl who grew
up in her parents’ Greenwich Village bookstore.
“Jessica—”
“Mom, I’m fine,” I snapped, turning to glare at her, the words tumbling out
of me with no thought behind them. “And not everything is something you
can fix with a couple of pats on the head! I’m worried about you and Dad
losing this place. I’m stressed about work and other shit. But I’m dealing,
okay?”
“Jessica, that’s enough.”
My father’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to silence me, just as it
had always been. I stiffened, blood rushing to my cheeks to turn them
painfully red while my stomach turned itself inside out.
My mother looked at me, hurt written across her face.
Fuck.
“Mom…I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I didn’t mean any of that. I’m just under a lot
of pressure.”
“We understand that, Jess,” Dad said as he came over to me. “But you can’t
take it out on the people who love you.”
“I know,” I agreed, my shoulders slumping. “Again, I’m sorry. I suck as a
daughter.”
Dad chuckled as he came up and wrapped his arms around me. “You don’t
suck as a daughter.” He kissed my temple. “We all have moments where we
lose our temper.”
He was right, I knew, but I still felt like shit for taking out my bad mood on
my mother. Derrick and his little experiment were fucking up my life in
more ways than one.
“I’ll do better,” I promised them.
I’d be damned if I let Derrick ruin my relationship with my parents.
TWENTY-FOUR
 DERRICK

F or the second time in under a week , I’ d fucked up with J essica ,

and I wasn’t quite sure how. When I’d dropped by her office shortly before
she was scheduled to leave for the day, she’d only glanced at me as she
lifted her phone, informing me she had an agent on the other end of the line
and had to take the call. Her chilly tone had all but frozen my balls off. But
the shadow in her eyes had bothered me more.
I was worried enough that I talked Drew into joining me at the Irish Pub for
a happy hour beer. As soon as we got our drinks and found a booth in the
furthest corner, I spilled out everything that had happened.
Drew stared at me from across the table, mouth open in surprise. It took
him nearly a full minute to find his voice. “Are you a fucking idiot?”
Okay, that hadn’t been what I’d thought he’d say. “Excuse me?”
He looked like he wanted to hit something but settled for shoving a hand
through his hair. Leaning in, he dropped his voice and said, “Without
checking with Jessica about what she might want for her own wedding, you
decided to have your assistant plan it. Not work with the bride but plan the
entire thing.” Drew shook his head. “Damn.”
“It’s not real,” I reminded him. “Jessica and I have a business arrangement.”
“And you’re making that knowledge public?”
I shook my head, not understanding what that had to do with anything. “Of
course not. Only a few people know the truth of the matter.”
“You really are clueless, aren’t you?” Drew shook his head. “She’s not
going to be able to ask her mom to help, and if she’s close with her mom,
that’s going to hurt her mother, which will upset her father, too. So you’ve
fucked up her relationship with her parents unless she decides to tell them
the truth, which adds a whole new issue between them. You didn’t even let
her pick out the dress she’s going to wear that day. She didn’t get to take her
mother with her or any friends to go dress shopping. A wedding is one of
the biggest days in a woman’s life—and you’re organizing it like it’s a
fundraiser for…prostate cancer or something.”
Tension crept up my spine as he spelled out, but I couldn’t let myself
believe that was why Jessica was upset. “Why would she want to waste her
time planning something that isn’t real?”
“Did you ask her if that’s what she wanted?”
I scowled at him and that must’ve been enough of an answer because he
scoffed at me and took a long drink of his beer.
“You still don’t seem to realize that you’re playing with people’s emotions,”
Drew’s voice was sharper than I’d ever heard it. “Not just Jessica’s—and
fuck you for that, by the way because she’s an amazing woman – but you’re
screwing with her parents, too. If they get hurt…well, I can already tell you
she loves them more than anything, and she won’t forgive somebody who
hurts them.” Then he shrugged. “But what do you care? It’s just business to
you. Your little social experiment on why women aren’t worth the hassle for
anything other than fucking…including Jessica.”
I couldn’t speak as I processed everything that he’d thrown at me in just a
matter of minutes. Drew was one of the few people who could call me on
my shit and get away with it, but it had never been anything like this. Not
his words, and not the way they made me feel. Rage simmered in my gut,
and judging by his smirk, he knew it.
And he was right. At least mostly right.
“I guess I should apologize,” I said stiffly, not wanting to get into a fight
with him.
I didn’t want to fight with Jessica either. I wanted our experiment to work,
and I definitely didn’t want to have to find a new woman.
“An apology might not be a bad idea.”
“I’ll find a jewelry store—”
He snorted. “Yeah, like that’s going to work. Jessica’s not impressed with
your money, man.”
“Then she would be the only one.” Women flocked to me because I had
power and money. Yeah, even poor I probably wouldn’t have had difficulty
finding women to fill my bed, but they wouldn’t pursue me the way they
did now.
“You’re an idiot,” Drew said quietly. “Sometimes I don’t even understand
how we’re friends.” Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, if you
really want to fix things, you need to find something personal. Something
that tells her you actually pay attention to her. Otherwise, you might want
to start shopping for a new ‘business partner.’”

I CALLED her once on my way home and it went to voicemail. Dictating

into the car’s bluetooth system, I sent her the first text ten minutes after I
left a message on her voicemail.
Perhaps we should discuss the wedding in more detail. I’ve thought about it
and realized I didn’t handle it well. Can you call me?
She didn’t answer. I wasn’t surprised, even if I still thought she was taking
this all too seriously. This was why I didn’t do relationships. They were too
complicated, women expected too much, and they weren’t worth it, not
when I could find what I needed at my club far easier.
For a brief moment, I considered scrapping the entire idea of trying to make
things right. I could go back to simple. Let Jessica know that I was letting
her out of our business arrangement and then head to the club. Find a sub I
could dominate without worrying about any sort of emotional connection.
Only I found the idea of picking up a sub at the club…unappealing.
An hour later, from the comfort of my home office, I texted her again.
I shouldn’t have excluded you from the matter. Please call me.
She didn’t answer that, either, though I saw that she’d read both messages.
Drew’s plan to find some personal item she would enjoy sounded more and
more like a better plan than just texting her.
I spent the next three hours trying to figure out something personal and
unique. Halfway through, I remembered why I usually had Anamaria buy
gifts for women who needed a little money spent on them for some reason
or another, and while it was tempting, I knew that if I wanted to continue
my arrangement with Jessica, I needed to do this by myself.
Finally, on a whim, I started reading through one of her old interviews, and
that was where I found it.
Somebody had asked what book she’d like to have most in the world. She
had named Sonnets from the Portuguese. Apparently, it was a collection of
poetry by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and antiquarian copies went for
upwards of a thousand.
I’d found a copy at a rare books dealer here in the city.
After several phone calls and a lot of persistence, I tracked down the
owner's name, and she agreed to meet me at the shop before she usually
opened to sell me the copy.
Telling myself it would work, I finally fell asleep.
My positive mood lasted until I greeted the dealer at her shop, and she told
me that she’d been mistaken. Her employee hadn’t updated the inventory
after he’d sold their only copy.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and reminded myself that yelling at this
woman who resembled Betty White wouldn’t fix anything.
“I need that book,” I said calmly. “Can you think of anywhere else I can
find it?”
“I don’t normally recommend this to potential customers, but have you
considered looking online?” she asked. “I can even search for you and order
it when I find it.”
I shook my head. “I need it today.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Did you forget someone’s birthday or
anniversary?” She waved a hand as soon as she asked the question. “I’m
sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“Do you have any suggestions for me?” I asked. “I normally don’t do this
sort of thing myself.”
“Judging by the cut of that suit and those shoes,” she said dryly, “I assume
you have either a personal shopper or an assistant.”
“The latter,” I admitted.
“But this is important enough to you that you’re out here on a weekday
morning trying to find an obscure book.” She gave me a hard look. “Let me
guess, young man. You fucked up.”
Her word choice shocked me into honesty. “Yes, I did.”
“Well, hon, I know a thing or two about that.” She motioned for me to
follow her into the shop. “I once had to track down a signed first edition of
Grapes of Wrath after I insulted my wife’s Thanksgiving turkey, not
knowing it was her grandmother’s recipe.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just watched as the shop owner went
behind the counter, pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled down a list.
She held it out to me.
“These are the dealers who might have a copy of the book you’re looking
for,” she said. “I think at least one of them has the book in their own private
collection, but you might be able to convince them to sell it to you for a
price.”
“Money’s not an issue,” I assured her.
“This is where I’d start looking then,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely.
I walked the two blocks to the first store on the list, and found a sort a little
bigger than the one I’d just left. Fortunately, it was already open, and I
found a silver-haired gentleman at the register.
“Do you have a copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese?”
“Good morning.” He gave me a polite smile. “Let me check.”
As he typed on his computer, I pulled out my phone and checked the time.
I’d had Anamaria reschedule all of my morning appointments in the hopes
that my gift would prompt make-up sex but if I ended up spending the
morning running around the city to find this book, I might need to decide
whether or not to give up the search to make my afternoon schedule, or put
off more work to find this personal apology gift.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have Sonnets from the Portuguese. I do have
collections by both Shelly and Keats.”
I shook my head. “No, it has to be that specific volume.”
“I understand.” His gaze darted to the extremely expensive watch on my
wrist to my suit. “Would you like me to order it? It may take me a while to
find it, but–”
“No, thank you,” I cut him off. “I appreciate the offer, but I need it today.”
I was halfway toward the door before I finished my sentence. Three more
stores on my list and hopefully one of them would have what I needed.
Two hours and three stores later, I wrote a check with a lot of zeros to a
man who had a pristine copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese in his personal
collection. I also owed him invites to my family’s next three fundraisers and
a consultation on a book he intended to write.
As he carefully wrapped my prize, I felt a surge of pride that I’d managed to
find something that I knew Jessica dearly wanted. I could only hope that it
would be enough to make things right between us, because if it didn’t, I had
no idea what would.
WHEN I STEPPED off the elevator, Jessica was standing in the door of
her office talking to one of the junior editors, and I went still at the sight of
her. She was pale, her hair worn back in a simple ponytail, and there were
dark shadows under her eyes. As she spoke, she reached up and rubbed the
back of her neck, then massaged her temple, as if trying to rid herself of a
dull, nagging headache.
Guilt rose as I realized I was probably the source of that headache, and with
it, what remained of my self-righteousness melted away.
Fuck. Drew had been right.
I moved closer but kept my distance even when she saw me, her expression
closing as she subtly turned her body toward the other person. Without a
single word, she made it clear she wouldn’t come scurrying just because I’d
shown up.
In retrospect, I could see that I’d given her that impression—along with a
slew of other pretty shitty ones. I didn’t want her with me because she felt
I’d bought her with this deal or that I was essentially blackmailing her
because of her parents’ place and her friend’s job.
An unsettling thought occurred to me then, followed by an even more
disturbing revelation: I did want her with me, and it had far less to do with
my book and far too much to do with her. And while I did want her to be
mine, I didn’t want it to happen because I’d bought her or paid for it. I
wanted her to give herself to me because it was what she wanted.
Alarm bells sounded in my head yet again and I wondered if I should deal
with this before talking to her.
Before I could decide, she finally slanted her gaze toward me, taking a deep
breath that had her breasts rising and falling against her simple white
camisole. She turned her back and walked into her office without waiting to
see if I’d follow.
Steeling myself for what was probably going to be an uncomfortable
encounter – at least before I managed my apology – I made my way into her
office just in time to see her pick up a black and white checked jacket that
hung on the back of her chair and pull it on.
Watching her literally put a barrier between us irritated me, but I knew why
she’d done it.
“I’m going to have my wedding dress fitted today,” she said in a cool voice.
“Since I have to leave early, I don’t have much time to talk. Is this
important?”
“You hate the dress,” I said softly.
“It doesn’t matter.” She looked away from me and stared at the computer,
her hand moving to the mousepad. She clicked on something, and I watched
as her gaze tracked over the screen. “You made it clear that this is nothing
more than a part of your business scheme, just as I am. I’ve decided I’m not
going to tell my family—”
“Anamaria will be canceling the fitting for that dress,” I cut in. “I’ll give
you a card to use when you shop for your dress.”
She looked away from the screen and met my gaze with an opaque, flat
stare. “Excuse me?”
“I shouldn’t have handled matters as I did. I’m sorry.” Leaning forward, I
placed the wrapped book on her desk.
“What’s that?” she asked, eying it with suspicion.
“A gift.”
“And what is it?” she said, caustic disdain dripping from her words. “Some
necklace or something you had Anamaria pick up after I didn’t answer your
texts? No, thanks.”
Good thing I hadn’t gone with jewelry. Drew was right about that too.
Damn. He was never going to let me hear the end of it.
“It’s not a necklace, not jewelry at all, and I bought it myself. Took me a
while to find it. I’ll tell you the story sometime.” Staring into her eyes, I
lowered my voice. “Please. I want you to have it.”
Her eyelids flickered, the only sign my words might have had an impact.
But she didn’t move to touch it.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I didn’t think this might hurt you, or cause
problems with your family.”
Her lower lip trembled, and she quickly looked away.
Guilt twisted my gut once more, and I cursed. “It already did, didn’t it?”
“What does it matter? The wedding is already more than half-planned, the
location picked out, things in motion that can’t be undone—and my parents
don’t even know.” She jerked her shoulder in a shrug. “So I don’t plan on
telling them. Since it’s not real, I won’t be needing a ring, and I’ll keep my
place with Jami—I’ll need someplace to live when this is over. They
usually don’t come to visit me anyway, so I don’t see the need to tell them
—”
“Stop,” I said. “Jessica…please. Stop.”
There were logical arguments I could make here. Remind her that my sort
of profile meant there’d be press all over it. Her family and friends would
find out anyway, and it’d be better coming from her.
But that wasn’t what needed to be said right now.
“It’s a business deal, yes, but it’s also still your wedding. Talk to Anamaria.
Everything can be rescheduled or changed. Just figure out what you want,
and the two of you can make it happen. Or the three of you, if you want
your mom in on it. Hell, ask Jami and make it a party. Keep what you want
and change what you don’t.”
She was quiet for so long that I thought I’d gone too far or misspoke
somehow, but then she pulled her package closer and traced the wrappings
with her fingertip. Her eyes, however, stayed on me.
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because I didn’t intend to hurt you,” I said bluntly. “I want to fix it.”
I had to. Otherwise, I wouldn’t sleep.
And she wouldn’t stop looking at me like I’d crushed her.
And she wouldn’t trust me the next time I wanted to touch that tight, lithe
body of hers.
She sighed, then picked up her gift.
Relief washed through me as she peeled off the wrapping paper. Her fingers
clenched a moment later, and her eyes flew up to me, stunned.
“How did you know I wanted this?”
I gave her a sheepish smile. “I read through some old interviews.”
Gentle color touched her cheeks, and she looked down, stroking the dull red
leather of the old book. “I…thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Maybe it was a bad idea, but I decided to take a risk.
“Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
She narrowed her eyes, but I saw a glint of humor in those gray depths.
“You think you can simply buy me an expensive – and very thoughtful –
gift that I absolutely love, and I’ll cave to your wishes?”
“Um, no?” Shit. Had I just made things worse?
Then she cracked a smile, and I knew things were okay.
“Why don’t you come over instead?” She suggested. “I’ll cook for you.”
TWENTY-FIVE
 JESSICA

I dashed into the kitchen and checked the water , dragging a brush
through my hair at the same time. I’d been crazy, inviting Derrick to dinner
here. I hadn’t even considered what we had in the apartment, so I’d had to
stop by the store, and I hadn’t built in enough time to shower, cook, and…
“…be home, so don’t worry, okay.”
Jerking my thoughts back to my conversation with Jami, I asked, “But
where are you going to stay?”
“You’re off in outer space,” she said with a sigh. “I just told you. I’m going
to crash on the couch in your office. There’s no way I want to come home
and listen to moaning and groaning. I mean, we might’ve come to a truce
about your relationship, but I still think the guy’s a tool.”
Face flushing, I grabbed the salt and added it to the water. “Jami, it’s just
dinner. He’s not coming over here for a booty call.”
“Yeah, like it won’t happen.” She huffed out a laugh, and it was both wry
and cynical at the same time. “Go. Get off the phone before you burn
yourself or your hair or…something. And be safe. Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
As I ended the call, I stared at the pot of water, willing it to boil. When that
didn’t happen, I jogged back to the bathroom and spent a minute trying to
do something with my hair. A glance at the clock told me I was down to
about fifteen minutes. Since the pasta wouldn’t take long, I did my make-
up, then shimmied into the dress I’d found at an upscale consignment shop.
It was one-shouldered, with an asymmetrical hem that went higher than I
usually would have worn, but I took one look and knew Derrick would love
it on me. So I bought it. A shade of gray just a bit darker than my eyes, with
rouching on the sides, and it showed off my curves without being too tight.
That, plus my silver bra and panty set made me feel sexy and right now I
needed the confidence. I took a look in the mirror and blew out a breath. I
looked as good as I ever would.
The heels I bought to go with the dress added three inches to my height. I
grabbed them and dropped them by the hall outside the kitchen, planning to
slip them on later. After one last look in the mirror, I hurried into the
kitchen and washed my hands—finally, the water was boiling. Had I added
salt? I racked my brain. It was sitting in the cabinet. Probably not. I dumped
some in, added the pasta and a little garlic, then started chopping the
tomatoes.
It was a quick and easy dish, but one that never failed to impress people,
especially since I was using freshly made pasta that I’d picked up at the
store instead of boxed. I could do fancy…ish.
I was grating the Parmigiano cheese when he buzzed downstairs. My hands
were shaking worse than they had on our first date. I unlocked the door and
buzzed him up, then checked the pasta.
Putting the colander in the sink, I headed to slip on my shoes.
He knocked.
Swearing, I left the shoes where they were and headed for the door.
My breath caught in my chest at the sight of him, wearing a suit almost the
same color as my dress and a shirt a few shades darker. With a nervous
smile, I said, “Hey…we match.”
His eyes had been sliding down the length of me, but he met my gaze and
smiled. “I think you wear the color better than I do.”
My knees quaked at his smile, and I stepped back to let him in.
He smelled expensive and sexy, and I had the urge to bite him. At the same
time, the nerves inside me grew. What was I doing? Last night, I’d been
curled in my bed, wounded over the events of the day, and now I was
tangled in knots over him, all because he’d bought a book of poetry and
said he was sorry.
Okay, it was more than that. He had said I could plan our wedding. Except I
needed to remember this didn’t mean anything…did it?
I knew, of course, that he was physically attracted to me. Our little foray
into BDSM had shown as much. And things had to start somewhere, right?
“I…ah…I need to check on dinner,” I said. My voice was rough as I cut
around him and headed for the kitchen.
The pasta was done, so I tossed it with olive oil, salt, pepper, red pepper
flakes, some fresh chopped garlic, and tomatoes, then put the plates on the
table, along with the bowl of cheese. The basket of bread I added last, along
with a bottle of wine.
When I finally let myself look at him again, I saw him leaning against the
counter, his eyes on me.
“It’s ready,” I said.
“Okay.” But he didn’t go to the table.
He came to me instead and cupped my chin. With a hint of a smile on his
lips, he leaned down and kissed me. Heat rushed through me, and I grabbed
onto him, needing the support. Before I could get too into it, he broke the
kiss.
“Let’s eat,” he murmured against my lips.
In a daze, I let him lead me to the table. He pulled out the chair, and I sat,
waiting for him to open the bottle of wine. My skin was already flushed and
my pulse racing, all from just one kiss. At this rate, I’d explode before we
even made it to the bedroom.
“It looks delicious,” Derrick said as he poured us each a glass of wine.
Right. Food.
I took a bite of the pasta and almost choked.
Dammit.
He’d just taken his first bite, too and I watched as he chewed. I had to give
him credit. He pushed through the overly-salty pasta, swallowed, and
grabbed his wine all without a single grimace.
“Well,” I said after I’d downed half my glass. “That answers that.”
He took another sip. “What?”
“I couldn’t remember if I added salt earlier. Clearly, I did, and definitely,
too much.”
A smile twitched on his lips.
“I can order something in—”
“No.” He leaned back, eyes drifting down briefly before sliding back up.
“You look lovely. Let me take you out. A place I like keeps a table on
reserve for me.”

“DID YOU ENJOY YOUR MEAL?”

Nearly two hours had passed since we’d left my apartment. Two hours of
white tablecloths, discreet service, and food so good, I would dream about
it.
And then there was Derrick. Attentive, watchful, listening to me, and asking
questions like what I said mattered. There was none of the feeling I had
before where it seemed like he was only humoring me. He was really
trying.
“Yes.” I sipped from the cognac he’d ordered, shivering at the rich flavor
and reveling in how it heated my throat as I swallowed.
Something else made me shiver as I placed the glass on the table.
Derrick put his hand just above my knee, pushing aside the slit in my dress
so he touched bare skin.
“This dress…”
I looked up at him, startled, then scanned the room for onlookers.
“Nobody can see, Jessica. Look at me.”
I swallowed a gasp as his hand slid higher. As his fingers played along the
inside of my thigh, I dragged my gaze to his face.
“This dress is driving me a little crazy,” he admitted. “The way it hugs your
ass, your hips. Now, spread your thighs.”
“I…why?” I couldn’t quite follow the sudden change from compliment to
command. His touch was too distracting.
“Be a good girl and do it.” His voice was stern, and I found myself
complying without thinking about it.
“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl.”
I bit back a whimper as he reached the apex of my thighs and deftly nudged
my panties out of the way.
“I’ve thought about nothing but sliding my hand under this dress since you
opened your door.” His gaze stayed on my face, a faint smile on his lips,
like we were discussing the weather.
My cheeks burned and I tilted my chin slightly, my hair sliding down to
shield my profile, but I kept my eyes on him. A moan rose in my throat, and
I had to bite my lip as he pushed his finger into me.
“I’m going to make you come,” he said, voice low.
“Here?” I whispered, instinctively trying to close my thighs.
“Yes,” he said. “Now, keep your legs open for me unless you want me to
punish you later.”
The low, sensual threat rolled off his tongue and over me like a wave of
water caressing my skin. My hands curled into fists, my breathing ragged.
“Quiet.” He dipped in and kissed my temple. “Nobody’s paying any
attention, but if you make too much noise, people will look. They’ll figure
out that I’m playing with your pussy under the table. Is that what you
want?”
Equal parts terrified and turned on, I shook my head.
“Say it out loud, Jessica.”
“No,” I whispered.
He flicked his thumb over my clit and my brain short-circuited.
“No, what?”
For a moment, I couldn’t figure out what he was asking. Then it hit me, and
I replied, “No, sir.”
“Good girl.” He thrust two fingers into me and pressed his thumb against
my clit.
And I came, orgasming so hard it almost hurt.
He withdrew his hand, and as I watched, he lifted that hand to his lips and
licked his fingers—right there, where anybody could have seen.
My face was scorched, my pussy still clenching.
As he called for the check, I struggled to control my breathing and the wild,
chaotic mess that was my heart. I couldn’t afford to fall for this guy. But I
knew I was doing it anyway.
I was beyond screwed.
TWENTY-SIX
 JESSICA

S taring at my reflection in the mirror , my stomach in knots , I

smoothed my hands over the form-fitting bodice of the dress I’d chosen to
wear for tonight’s dinner with Derrick.
It was sleek and sexy…and left no room for wandering hands. Not that I
expected that to be on the menu, but I never knew with Derrick. Since he’d
first gotten me off in a restaurant a month ago, he’d taken to teasing me in
various public places. Tonight, however, I didn’t think that was part of his
plan.
In this 'bandage' dress design, several strips of cloth are wound around me
to form the garment. This dress showed off my cleavage, but it also had a
small feature Derrick would enjoy-a 'collar' of sorts extending down the
midline of my chest to a plunging neckline.
I felt elegant, decadent, and sexy wearing it, and as I looked at my
reflection, a big part of me wished this was all... real.
I turned away from the mirror. Those thoughts had been coming more often,
and it was nearly impossible to ignore them.
I heard Jami was settling in for a lazy night in, and I felt the need to go talk
to her.
But our truce about Derrick didn’t include heart-to-hearts where I asked her
to help me figure out exactly how I felt about our boss. We could talk about
everything else, but my relationship was off-limits, especially since we both
knew that our time dating was coming to an end. In fact, I was pretty sure
that tonight would be the proposal. After all, we were set to be married in a
week.
Jami told me she wasn't coming to the wedding, and I understood why she
couldn't support a marriage based on a business deal. Although it would be
difficult not to have her there, I wasn't about to force it. My marriage had an
expiration date, and I wanted to get back to my regular life afterwards.
My friends' disapproval and my own tumultuous emotions weren’t the only
things crowding my mind lately either. While my parents knew that Derrick
and I were dating, and I’d dropped enough hints for them to know it was
serious, I knew tonight’s proposal would surprise them. Finding out that the
wedding was next week would be an even bigger shock, and I hadn’t yet
figured out how much I could tell them.
The buzzing of the intercom drew me out of my thoughts. I grabbed my
purse and shoes and headed for the door. After letting Derrick into the
building, I pulled on my shoes and smoothed down my dress.
Looking over to where Jami was lounging on the couch, I called out, “I’m
leaving now.”
“Text me if you’re not coming home tonight,” she said.
“I will,” I promised. The fact that she still worried about me made me
hopeful for the future of our friendship.
The melancholy trying to overwhelm me faded into the background when I
opened the door a moment later and saw Derrick. The intensity of his eyes
knocked my breath away, and my lips curved into a smile. He was already
leaning in to kiss me before I had a chance to say hello.
And the kiss left me even more breathless.
He gave my lower lip one last nip before breaking contact to brush his
mouth over my cheek, jaw, and neck. “You smell divine, Jessica.”
A delicious shiver ran through me as he pressed another kiss to my neck,
and I was grateful he stopped there. My knees were weak enough as it was.
“Here.”
He handed me a bouquet of roses. It wasn't your typical roses, though.
I stroked a velvety petal as I took the flowers. “These are gorgeous. I’ve
never seen roses like this.”
The petals were a deep crimson that darkened at the base of the bloom. The
underside was a warm, creamy yellow with hints of red.
“They’re called dark night roses.”
He traced my dress with his eyes. “I like this. A lot.”
“I thought you might.”
The gleam in his eyes made my belly tighten, and I backed up. “Let me put
these in a vase so we can head out."
His gaze dipped to where the strap on my dress slid down between my
breasts, and he said, “I think I’ll wait out here. I’m very tempted to mess
you up, and you look so pretty.”
Blushing, I shut the door and hurried to get the vase from the kitchen.
It was going to be an intense night.
There was a twist in my heart. If only it was all true.

MY HEART HAD BEEN FLUTTERING INSTEAD of beating for much

of the evening, and I was feeling lightheaded. As usual, the champagne
Derrick ordered was exquisite, but I only sipped it. I had to admit, his taste
for the finer things in life was something I could get used to. Well, at least
as a temporary perk for agreeing to this arrangement. The chocolate dessert
– some French concoction I couldn’t pronounce – was incredible. However,
after a bite or two, I had to put the fork down because my stomach was in
knots.
“Don’t you like it?” Derrick asked with concern in his voice. “We can order
something else.”
“I love it.” I pressed my knees together under the table as I met his gaze.
On the table was a rose identical to the dozen he'd brought me when he
picked me up. He would pick it up every so often and stroke the petals over
my cheek or arm. Those teasing caresses had me on edge, ready to beg him
for a deeper touch, but there was more going on here than just a precursor
to sex.
“I’m just..." I struggled to find the right word.
He leaned in and kissed me. I whimpered against his mouth, muscles
quivering as he put his hand on my knee. “I want to push this dress up over
your ass and fuck you here and now, you know that?”
Heat exploded under my skin. I was already wet, but now, as my pussy
contracted, I could feel the dampness seeping into my lace panties.
“Stop…please.”
He lifted his head and studied me, then brushed his lips across mine in the
faintest ghost of a kiss. “For now.”
As he backed away, I grabbed my water and gulped, my throat painfully
tight.
When I looked up at him, he had a velvet box in his hand.
My heart stopped fluttering, finally. Instead, it skipped several beats.
He opened the box and held it out for me. Even as I watched, something
flickered across his face. It was so quick I didn’t have time to interpret what
it meant, and then it was gone. Had his eyes softened for a moment, held
something other than just lust? I must have been mistaken. Or maybe the
little bit of champagne was playing tricks on me. Whatever it was his
expression was back to being even and unreadable. His lips curved in the
sort of pleasant smile that one would expect from a man about to propose to
his girlfriend.
“Jessica Ellis, will you marry me?”
And there it was. No flowery sentiments, just four significant words.
Of course, there were three other words neither of us had said to each other
and never would.
I stared at the ring, a large, flawless round diamond on a band of yellow
gold. It was stunning, the sort of ring any woman would envy.
And yet I couldn’t stop the words from echoing in my head: if only it was
real.
My lips twitched, and I swallowed. I knew what to say. It was in my
contract, after all. “Yes, Derrick. I’ll marry you.”
He took the ring out and lifted my hand, holding my eyes as he slid it onto
my finger. As he stood, the other restaurant patrons applauded, a few
cheering as he kissed me before returning to his seat.
If only…

“DERRICK!”
Despite his teasing comments about pushing my dress up and fucking me
the second we got inside his place, he’d done the opposite, seduced me
slowly, almost sweetly.
Now, as he dragged his tongue over my pussy, I tangled my fingers in his
hair and arched against him, desperate for release. “Please!”
“Please, what?” He pushed a finger inside me and licked me again,
groaning roughly as I clenched around him. “Tell me, baby…what do you
want?”
“Make me come,” I said, my voice breaking. I was desperate for it, so
desperate.
“Make me come…?” The taunting lilt was accompanied by a deliberately
light stroke that was more torture than pleasure.
“Make me come, please, sir!”
“Good girl…” He screwed his fingers into me and twisted them, knuckles
rubbing against my g-spot.
I exploded, calling out his name as pleasure so hot it burned raced along my
nerves. He moved up my body, gripped my knee, and pushed up, thrusting
into me with a single motion. One orgasm rolled into a second, my muscles
gripping his dick as I whimpered and buried my face against his chest,
nearly overwhelmed by everything that’d happened, that was happening.
“No.” He used his hand in my hair to pull me back. “I like hearing you cry
out and moan. Look at me.”
I did, eyes unfocused as he withdrew, then drove back into me. I made a
choked sound as he reached the very end of me.
“So wet.” He rotated his hips against me. “So hot…fuck, Jess. Your body.
This cunt.”
The words made me whimper, and I grabbed his shoulders, tried to move
against him, take some control back. Make him feel as good as he was
making me feel.
“No.” He bore down on me, going still. “You lay there…lay there, be a
good girl and let me fuck you.”
The domineering words should have pissed me off. But as my breaths came
out in chopping bursts, I could only find two words to say. “Yes, sir.”
He bent over and kissed me, tongue sliding into my mouth, and I sucked on
it, making him groan. He thrust into me harder, and I grabbed his ass, my
nails digging in.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my lips. “Do that again.”
I did, and he started moving harder, faster, changing the angle of his body,
so he rubbed my clit, and I broke around him, coming hard and fast. Again.
He went rigid above me, cock digging in with a series of short, hard thrusts
that had me whimpering and begging him not to stop.
His mouth crushed to mine as he followed me over the edge, and I clung to
him, feeling like I might fly away and fade into nothing if I didn’t have him
as an anchor.
I was so fucked.
TWENTY-SEVEN
 DERRICK

“D on ’ t drink all my whisky .”

Drew glanced up from the whisky he’d been sipping, opened his mouth as
if he was going to say something, then closed it and shook his head.
It was the tenth time he’d done that in the last hour.
“Man, what the fuck?” I asked, annoyed. I hated when he did that, started to
say something only to stop, and I had to drag it out of him. I had been
looking forward to today and the last thing I wanted to do was deal with one
of my best friend’s occasional moods.
Drew shot me a sideways glance. “What?”
“You’ve got one of your looks.” Focusing on my reflection, I adjusted my
tie, then checked my hair. The suit I was wearing, that Anamaria had
ordered, was dressier than something I would have chosen, but that was
exactly why I’d put her in charge of organizing everything. She knew her
stuff. Upon asking Anamaria if Jessica had made many changes to the
arrangements, she’d given me an odd look and said only her dress had
changed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Drew asked, dragging my thoughts
away from what Jessica would be wearing.
The unexpected question had me lifting my gaze from my cufflinks, and I
looked at him in the mirror. “Excuse me?”
His blue eyes bore into mine, and he repeated himself, then added, “I just
want you to be certain. If you fuck things up…”
“How am I going to fuck things up?” I asked, almost amused.
“She’s a nice woman. I think she might even care about you. And you’re
using her.” Drew’s expression was sober.
“She knows none of this is real. She signed a contract.” Annoyed, I turned
toward him. “And she gets plenty out of this deal. How am I using her?”
“Have you been upfront about the book?” He folded his arms over his
chest. “And what happens if you end up liking her?”
“First off, yes, we’ve talked about the book. Legal drew up our contract so
everything’s there in black and white.” I mimicked his pose. “And for your
information, I do like her.”
He scoffed. “You like her ass. Admit it. You like how she looks, and you
like fucking her. That’s not the same thing as liking her. Jessica is not a
cynical bastard who thinks every relationship is set to fail, Derrick—and
you’re using her to prove your point. Hell, you said you wanted her to fall
for you, so you could be in control. And she might just have done that.
Although I can’t understand why, that's beside the point. No, the point
being, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, this could hurt her. This
whole thing could end up crushing her. You better be sure you don’t fuck
this whole thing up before you figure out what you’d be giving up.” He
tossed back the rest of his drink. “I’ll be waiting in the courtyard.”
I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what. It wasn’t like I had been
vague about what I expected from Jess, not at any point. I gave up on the
whole ‘make her fall in love with me’ thing months ago. I had her in my
bed, after all, and that was enough for me.
Before I could get too into my head, there was a short, sharp knock at the
door, and I turned as Amelia came in, wearing a pretty dark green maid of
honor dress. Since Jami wasn’t even coming to the wedding – Jessica said
she had a family thing, but I doubted it – my sister and Drew were the only
people in the wedding party.
This whole thing could end up crushing her.
Fuck Drew for putting doubt in my mind. On this day of all days. I was
doing this for our company for fuck sake, and since day one he’d been
against it. I had no doubt it would be my biggest book ever. Our biggest
book.
Besides, I had plenty of time to make up for any wrongdoings. Things had
gone fast in our three months relationship, but now I’d have a full year to
repair any damage, and I’d make sure Jessica knew that I’d do whatever I
could to make her comfortable.
Satisfied by my plan, I smiled at Amelia as she came over and hugged me.
“You look so handsome,” she said, grinning at me. “I can’t believe you’re
getting married, brother. And to a woman like Jessica…Derrick, she’s
amazing. If I could have picked out a sister personally, I couldn’t have
imagined someone better than her.”
Suddenly uneasy, I somehow managed to keep my smile. Amelia still
believed that people could make marriage work. Sooner or later, she’d wise
up to that. Besides, she and Jessica could still be friends when this was all
over, right? It wouldn't be a hate-filled breakup. It might be awkward for a
short while, but Jessica and I would still be around each other. She would
still work for me, after all.
Right?
“It’s about time to go,” I said, changing the subject, realizing I didn’t like to
think about the idea of not having Jessica around.
“You’re excited!” She rose onto her toes and kissed my cheek, then pulled
away and went to the mirror. “I’m going to check on Jessica.”
She was out the door in a flash of skirts before I could ask her anything
about my soon-to-be-wife.
Wife.
For some reason, the thought sent a thrill through me rather than the horror
I’d thought I’d feel when I’d come up with this idea.
For the next year, Jessica would be mine.
And, to my surprise, I was fucking ready for it.
 

 
The Plaza Hotel’s Edwardian Room where Anamaria had booked the
wedding, and reception, was elegant. It was perfect for a small gathering,
with a few rows of seats for family and guests that could quickly be
rearranged and set with tables for the reception. It’d been the perfect
compromise of, not too small, but still not too extravagant for something
that wasn’t going to last more than a year.
I had to hold back a frown when I saw that the only people from Jessica’s
family were her parents—none of the cousins or friends from the cookout.
Her mother only briefly glanced at me. At the same time, her father gave
me a long, considering study before he turned back to speak quietly with
Charlotte. All the other people on that side were from the publishing house.
Anamaria approached, and I asked, “Why doesn’t Jessica have more of her
family here?”
“She didn’t invite anybody else,” she said, voice neutral.
“Nobody?”
She lifted a brow. “No. I requested several head editors from the company
attend to sit as her guests, and they’re here. What’s the problem?”
Annoyed for reasons I couldn’t articulate, I took her arm and led her away
from the guests. “Why wouldn’t she invite more people? I know it was
short notice, but she still could have invited them and let them decide if
they could make it.”
The danger of isolating friends and family when deciding who to invite had
a section in my book since, depending on the connections, that sort of
negativity could bleed into business.
“Maybe because the marriage isn’t real. It will end in a year, and it will be
awkward enough to explain that to her parents. The more people she has to
lie to, the harder it will be for her. But that’s just my guess.” Anamaria
checked her phone. “Is there anything else? I’d like to check on the
caterers.”
“It’s a real marriage,” I said, ignoring the last part of her statement. “We
dated. I proposed. We’re getting married. What’s not real?”
She studied me before shaking her head. “And here I thought you seemed
like such a smart man, Derrick. I really do need to check on the catering
staff.”
She left without answering, leaving me frustrated. If anybody else talked to
me like that they would be fired. She knew that I needed her.
Music started to play, and I saw Drew looking for me, an unreadable
expression on his face. I wondered if he half-hoped I wouldn’t show up.
Fuck that.
I joined him by the altar, and he looked me over from head to toe. I gave
him a direct stare and his lips quirked up.
“You actually look excited about this,” he muttered as we turned to face the
arbor that had been set up for the bride near one of the side entrances.
The bride. My bride.
I ignored my best man as my sister came walking toward me. Regardless of
the circumstances that had led me here, in a short while, Jessica would be
wearing my ring and for the next year, we would share a home and a bed.
Neither one of us would become involved with anyone else.
That was a real marriage.
Jessica appeared seconds after Amelia took her place and I took in the sight
of her, greedy for it after going thirty-six hours and counting without seeing
her. We’d talked, but there’d been enough things we both needed to get
done that the conversations had been brief.
Her eyes swept over the guests and lingered on her parents for a beat before
coming to meet mine. She was paler than normal, and I thought I could see
a shadow in her eyes, but she was beautiful, so fucking beautiful.
My gaze locked on her lips for a moment, and I imagined the taste of them,
the feel of her skin…that skin. I let my eyes roam over it and found myself
studying her gown. It was almost plain compared to the other one, but I was
glad she’d changed it. It highlighted her curves with its stark simplicity, the
off-shoulder design giving it a sweet innocence I found appealing. The
longer I looked, the more I liked it. Dragging my gaze upward, I shifted my
attention to her face as she joined me at the front of the room.
She certainly was pale.
Was she that nervous?
The priest began the ceremony and I assured myself that it’d all be over
soon enough. Jessica’s anxiety would disappear, and everything would be
great. I barely listened to the words, replying automatically when it was my
time. Then it was her turn.
“Do you, Jessica, take Derrick to be your husband?”
I smiled at her. Soon, I thought. I wanted this over. I wanted her naked.
I wanted her—
“I…don’t,” she said.
I stared at her as everyone gasped.
“What?” I asked, even though I’d heard her. Loud as day, clear as a bell,
although I sure as hell had to have misunderstood her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, backing up as tears brimmed in her eyes. “I…I
just can’t do this. I can’t marry you.”
Without another word, she turned on her heel and sped away while I stood
there, dumbfounded and staring after her, unable to even think as chaos
exploded around me.
TWENTY-EIGHT
 JESSICA

I hit the street , only stopping when I saw the familiar yellow paint
of a taxi. I flagged it down and held my breath until it stopped in front of
me. I didn’t breathe until I was inside, and my hands were shaking as I
tucked them into my lap and tried to still the mad beating of my heart.
Sick inside, tears threatening to blind me, I had to concentrate before I
could look up at the cabbie without crying.
“You okay, miss?”
“Um, sure.” I managed a smile, but it lasted maybe ten seconds before it
faded. “Can you take me…” I stopped, not knowing where to go. Then I
remembered. Of course, I had somewhere to go. I gave him my address,
thankful I’d decided to have my things moved while I was on my
honeymoon rather than ahead of time.
My honeymoon.
Fuck.
My stomach flipped and if I’d eaten anything today, I would’ve lost it all
right there.
“Sure.” He eyed me strangely but said nothing and pulled away from the
curb.
Considering I was obviously wearing a wedding dress, I had to give him
credit for not asking questions. A dull ache at the back of my head pulsed in
time with my racing heart. Despite my stomach being empty, I felt like I’d
be sick and fought to breathe slowly, steadily, hoping to calm it. If I started
puking, I’d have a migraine, which would just cap everything off perfectly.
The way Derrick had looked at me…It’d been want I’d seen. Desire. Not
love. Not even the caring and respect that came from a solid friendship. Just
lust. And while that might’ve been fine for sex, I couldn’t see it as a basis
for a real marriage lasting a year.
I’d been to any number of weddings. My parents had renewed their vows
not too long ago.
When I compared how those men had looked at the women they were
marrying, or how my dad looked at my mom to how Derrick had looked at
me…I couldn’t do it.
Even knowing it was all for a project, even for the money for my parents, if
he’d showed even just some sign that I mattered to him as more than a
social experiment and someone to fuck, I would have rushed down that
aisle and thrown myself at him. But all I’d seen in his eyes was that he
couldn’t wait for us to be alone so he could get me out of my dress.
And it’d hurt.
Why the hell did it hurt?
“Ma’am?”
Dazed, I looked around and saw the driver staring at me.
“Is this your place?”
We were at my apartment. The one I would have given up—the life I would
have given up—the friend I’d slowly been losing.
“Thanks.” I fumbled with my debit card and swiped it, attempting a smile.
He saw that I couldn’t. “Go on, kid. Take care of yourself.”
I nodded and climbed out, my legs weak, my whole body shaking until I
wasn’t sure if I’d make it inside. I got to the door and realized I didn’t have
my key or my phone. Pressing the buzzer, I prayed Jami would answer.
“H’lo?”
“Jami?”
She sounded puzzled when she responded, “Jess? Is that you?”
“Yeah. I don’t…” I swallowed a sob. “Can you let me in?”
The door unlocked, and I half-stumbled to the elevator. Jami was waiting
for me when I emerged, and her eyes widened as she saw the state I was in.
“Sweetheart…”
She wrapped an arm around my waist as she walked me back to our
apartment, and I leaned against her, grateful as my shaking worsened.
“What happened? What about the wedding? Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t do it,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I just couldn’t do it.”
I couldn’t tell her why. I was humiliated enough without confessing that I’d
fallen for a self-centered bastard who just wanted to use me. A man who
could never love anyone except maybe his sister. A broken heart was bad
enough. I didn’t need to see the I told you so in my best friend’s eyes. I felt
stupid enough.
Jami looked like she wanted to say something but held back, and I was
grateful. Grabbing at the neck of my dress, I said, “Get me out of this,
please.”
Without a word, she went behind me and loosened the hooks, eased down
the zipper. When it sagged, I shoved it down, right there in the middle of
the living room, letting the insanely expensive dress crumple in a heap as I
headed for my room. Boxes were stacked along the wall, and I stared at
them in despair. In a fit, I tore the longline strapless bra off, fumbled with
the panties, and all but shredded the thigh-high stockings as I looked at the
boxes with their neat labels, desperate for comfort clothes.
“Jessica?”
The knock on the door behind me made me freeze. “I’m not dressed.”
“I figured. Here’s a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.”
“I don’t even have panties, Jami.”
“Just keep the sweats then.” She cracked open the door and pushed the
clothes through, and I took them gratefully.
“Thank you.”
She was taller and had more curves than me, but I didn’t really care that I’d
have to roll up the sweats. I was just thankful that she’d given them to me.
As I dragged the t-shirt on, she said, “Your mom and dad are here. I just
buzzed them up. They sound worried.”
I supposed I should’ve expected that. They’d been concerned when I’d told
them about the engagement and quick wedding. Actually, their first
response had been to ask if I was pregnant. I hadn’t told them the truth
about why Derrick and I were rushing things, but I could tell they hadn’t
really believed my bullshit about us not wanting to drag out an engagement
and just wanting to get started on our life together.
And it had been bullshit in more ways than one, I admitted to myself now.
It’d never been the beginning of a life together, just the start of a single year
where I’d be living with a man I really didn’t know.
How could I know him if he didn’t let me close in the ways that mattered?
I’d let him do things to me that I’d never even thought of before him, but I
didn’t know what he really felt when we were together.
Or maybe I did and I just didn’t want to acknowledge the truth.
Feeling at least a little better now that I’d changed my clothes, I carried my
lingerie to the kitchen and threw it in the trash. The stockings were ruined
anyway, and I couldn’t exactly donate the underwear.
“Going to throw the wedding dress away, too?” Jami asked.
“No.” Face hot, I picked it up and stuffed it into the closet. “I can donate it
to someone who needs it.”
Even as I said it, the thought of some other woman wearing that dress
threatened to drive me back to tears. I hadn’t taken Mom and Jami dress
shopping with me, the way I’d always imagined I would when I got
married, but it had been a dress I’d chosen and loved. Something that I’d
thought Derrick would enjoy seeing on me…and taking off me.
Except it’d been that very reaction that’d pushed me over the edge and sent
me running.
My parents knocked, and Jami got to the door before I could unstick my
feet. They came rushing in, and I had to hold back sobs as my mother
wrapped me in her arms, the familiar scent of her perfume more soothing
than anything else could have been right now.
“Honey, what happened? What’s wrong? Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“I…”
“Now, Charli,” my father said, giving my mother a concerned look. “She’ll
talk when she’s ready.”
“That’s the problem,” Mom said, her voice almost sharp. “She won’t talk. I
knew they were rushing into this. We hardly know this Derrick fellow, and
she almost married him. I don’t think he even loves her—”
I flinched, and my mom hugged me, unaware of how true her words were.
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.” She squeezed me tighter. “Of course he loved you.
I’m sure he wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t–”
“No,” I whispered.
When she went to speak, I stepped out of her embrace. I had to come clean,
but I couldn’t do it if she was hugging me.
“Mom, Dad….” The knot in my chest grew, but I made myself look at
them, bracing myself for the pain this would cause. “The thing is, um,
things with Derrick were never real. The dating, the relationship…even the
wedding.”
My heart twisted at my words, reminding me that one thing, at least, had
been real, even if it hadn’t been returned. I couldn’t tell them that though.
Not them. Not Jami. Not anyone.
Ever.
No one could know that I’d lost my heart.
I forced more words out. “It was all something he – we – arranged. Just
an…act.”
“An act?” My mother looked confused, but Dad looked murderous.
Despondent, I took Mom’s hand and led her to the couch, my dad following
along. Even though Jami already knew the story, she joined us, her silent
support giving me the strength I needed to tell my parents every last awful
detail, including what my actions today could cost them.
TWENTY-NINE
 DERRICK

T he level of scotch in my bottle had been steadily decreasing over

the past couple of hours as I’d drunk directly from it rather than bothering
with a glass. At one point, I’d considered getting up and making some
coffee, or at least getting some water to drink, but it had only been a brief,
passing thought.
Getting wasted was a lot more appealing than dealing with this shit sober.
And maybe, at some point, I’d be able to get drunk enough to forget the
entire thing. But, for now, I was stuck playing it over and over again in my
head, every humiliating, excruciating second of it.
What the fuck had happened?
It had all been going fine except for that one little hiccup and I’d fixed that.
For two months, I’d had her hot, willing, all but begging me and I’d been
convinced I’d have her that way for the next year.
Now, just a couple of hours ago, she’d decided she couldn’t marry me.
Literally at the last possible second.
What the fuck?
I was furious…and mortified. I wanted answers.
Except I wasn’t sure it even mattered. She’d already told me what counted.
I can’t marry you.
I’d be damned if I let her know how much her desertion had bothered me.
Hell, I didn’t even know why it bothered me so much other than the fact
that I hated she’d done it so publicly. Sure, the sex had been great and we’d
enjoyed talking to each other, but it wasn’t as if I–
The door opened, letting light in and I snapped, “Get the fuck out.”
But it was Drew and he didn’t listen. He never did.
He settled in the chair across from me and stretched out his legs before
speaking. “You drank all that today?” He gestured at my bottle.
“Get the fuck out,” I repeated, flipping him off for emphasis. A thought
came to me as he returned the gesture. “You know what? This is your
fucking fault. You’re the one who suggested the stupid marriage idea to
begin with.”
His eyebrows went up, but his voice stayed even despite my accusation.
“And I’m the one who asked earlier today if you were sure you wanted to
go through with it. You were so convinced it was a brilliant idea.”
“Did you know she was going to bail?” I demanded, slamming my bottle
down and leaning forward.
“Please.” He rolled his eyes.
“Then what the fuck was that this morning?”
He scowled, an edge coming to his words. “I already told you—and I think
it’s the very reason why she bailed. She developed feelings for you.”
“Then why wouldn’t she marry me?” I glared at him. “If she cares about
me, wouldn’t she want to be with me? That’s kinda what marriage is.”
“Because it wasn’t real,” he snapped. “If she cares about you, why the fuck
would she want a marriage based on a business contract? Knowing that her
new life with you would be over in a year and doesn’t mean more to you
than fodder for a fucking book.”
“That wasn’t—” I stopped because that was the purpose behind marrying
her. Had been. “She knew the deal from the beginning. I never lied to her
about it. And she agreed to it.”
“Yes, she did,” Drew agreed. “But somewhere along the way, things
changed for her. I think they changed for you, too. But you’re too stubborn
to admit it.”
“Oh, what the fuck ever.” I grabbed for my bottle but Drew snagged it and I
was too slow on the uptake to stop him. “Bastard.”
“You’ve had enough.”
“You stupid son of a bitch.” I stood on shaky legs. “Give it back.”
Drew stood up and blew out a slow, careful breath. “No. You need to drink
some water and sober up.”
“Fuck off.”
He shook his head and turned away. “We’ll talk more later.”
He left, taking the scotch with him.
As the door shut, I grabbed an empty glass and flung it at the door,
watching as the crystal shattered into tiny little shards.
Just like Jessica and Drew had shattered my entire world.
I refused to wallow though. Since Drew took my scotch, I decided to hit the
bar at the corner. I could have gone home and had higher quality liquor, but
the idea of being alone in the penthouse right then was decidedly
unappealing.

THE BAR WASN’T A DIVE, but it wasn’t high-end either. The noise the
moment I stepped inside made it difficult for me to hear myself think,
which was exactly what I needed. After a couple more drinks, I saw what
else I needed right now.
She was tall and blonde, with nice curves, and the kind of gleam in her eye
that said she could make me forget about my shitty day. She also just
happened to be sitting on the stool next to mine.
Must’ve been my lucky day.
She giggled as I leaned in and murmured to her, “Come back to my
penthouse with me. I’ve got a great view.”
She shot a nervous look to the back of the room before saying, “I’m here
with my boyfriend. But if I wasn’t…”
“We can always leave now before he comes back,” I said, not entirely
joking.
I needed to get the fuck out of my head for a while and I didn’t care how I
went about doing it. Besides, if she was willing to cheat on her boyfriend,
that was up to her. In a way, I was doing the guy a favor.
“Don’t tempt me.” She bit her lower lip and slid her eyes across my face,
then lower.
“Selena, is this guy bothering you?”
I lifted my gaze to the guy who’d pushed through the crush of people to
reclaim the seat next to hers. He looked like he could’ve been the poster
boy for the word meathead. His neck was the size of my thigh, and his IQ
was probably the size of my pinky. I met his gaze and gave him a slow
smile.
“I was just asking if she’d like to come back to my penthouse and check out
my…view.”
Her eyes widened, some of the pretty color draining from her cheeks. His
face, on the other hand, went a dull shade of red.
“What the fuck did you say?” He’d been in the process of sitting down, but
now he came around the stool, standing at her back and glowering down at
me.
“I asked her if she’d like to go somewhere with me,” I said with a shrug as I
picked up my bourbon and took a sip. Smiling into his scowling face, I
added, “She said no.”
If I couldn’t fuck my temper away, maybe I could blow off some of the mad
in a fight. He might’ve been a muscle head, but I had the rare characteristic
of not giving a damn at the moment
“That’s enough, boys,” the bouncer said, stepping in and giving us both a
hard look. His eyes came to me as I slid off my stool and he asked in a
polite voice, “Sir, is there a problem?”
“No.” I grinned at him, then looked at the boyfriend. “He just doesn’t like
that I’d asked his girlfriend to leave with me.”
The bouncer blinked. “I can’t imagine why. Maybe you should find another
place to sit.”
“No, I’m good where I’m at.” I emptied my glass and signaled to the
bartender to fill it up again.
The bouncer held up a hand and the bartender stopped, hand halfway to my
glass. The bouncer’s eyes didn’t leave me. “No, sir. You’re not.”
Shooting him a hard look, I said, “I’m fine where I am.”
“How about we step outside and discuss it?” He crossed big arms over his
chest and offered a polite, disarming smile while his eyes went hard.
I turned back to the bartender. “Another.”
The bouncer grabbed my shoulder. “We’re stepping aside now. Settle your
tab.”
“Later—” I started to jerk away, but the hand on my shoulder tightened.
“Unless you want to be banned from this bar and have the cops called, you
will settle your tab and step outside,” he said, moving close enough to speak
in a low voice. “I don’t care who you are or how much money you have—
you’re not causing problems in my bar. Pay your tab. Now.”
Something about his coolly authoritative tone cut through the fog and I
sighed. Throwing a few bills on the bar, I turned and headed for the door.
I didn’t stop to talk to him, though.
Fuck all this shit.
And fuck Jessica Ellis, too.
I’d busted my ass to make this worth her while and—
I stopped ten feet away from the bar’s entrance, hearing the bouncer yell out
something, but I didn’t turn around. An idea unfolded in my head, and I
smiled, savage satisfaction settling inside.
Pulling out of my phone, I moved to the curb and hailed a cab. Once inside,
I started drafting an email.
She’d made her move.
Now it was time to make mine.
THIRTY
 JESSICA

W earing a pair of yoga pants and a faded t - shirt from my high

school days, I sat on the couch and tried to focus on the movie I’d selected
from a streaming service. One of my favorites, it was the equivalent of
comfort food, the sort of thing I watched when I needed cheering up and
didn’t want to think.
Except it wasn’t working.
I’d fallen asleep last night because I was utterly exhausted but as soon as I
woke up, my brain had started going a million miles a minute.
It hadn’t stopped since.
“How am I going to go into work tomorrow?” Since I was alone in the
apartment, it was a rhetorical question and I expected no answer, but damn,
I wanted one. The uncertainty had been one of the things plaguing me all
day.
Logically, there wasn’t any reason why I had to, really. I didn’t have
anything scheduled or waiting for me since I was supposed to be on my
honeymoon.
What a joke.
I couldn’t believe that I’d actually thought turning a marriage into a
business deal was a good idea. And what sort of person not only wanted to
hold an actual wedding but also go on a honeymoon as a fake couple? Sure,
we’d been sleeping together, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he
couldn’t find plenty of other women for sex, no matter how kinky he liked
it.
He was probably with another woman right now, working off his annoyance
at me.
My chest ached, the pain there so intense it was like it would split me wide
open. Even breathing was painful. Rubbing my chest, I stared hard at the
screen, as if I could will myself into focusing on the scene playing out
instead of the misery trapped inside me like a caged beast.
It didn’t work.
Surging upright, I threw the remote down and stormed into the kitchen. I
yanked open the fridge and pulled a soft drink out, draining half of it in an
effort to loosen the knots inside me.
It didn’t work. Still, I took it with me into my bedroom. Settling on my bed,
I pulled my laptop out of my work bag. While I wouldn’t have any actual
work scheduled, I could at least go through my email and see if I could get
an idea of what to expect when I went in tomorrow.
I was expecting to hear back from Bristol’s agent soon but she knew I was
scheduled to be out for a week after the wedding so she probably wouldn’t
contact me until after, but I was tempted to reach out to her, even if it was a
Sunday, just so I could have something to occupy my time with.
“Just do it tomorrow,” I muttered. “Let her enjoy her Sunday.”
I went to close my laptop but stopped and lifted my gaze to the ceiling.
“Just go ahead and look,” I told myself. “It’s just a work email. Probably all
junk and inter-office memos.”
I’d left my phone facedown after texting my parents and telling them I
needed some time to myself, which they’d respected. They’d stayed a
couple hours yesterday after I’d told them everything, and I had no doubt
they were still trying to process everything. Jami was out doing who knew
what, giving me space. Basically, I’d spent most of the day just trying to
pretend the outside world didn’t exist.
But I couldn’t pretend forever.
Bracing myself, I opened my work email log-in.
A minute later, Derrick’s name jumped out at me, bold and stark in the
sender line, the email subject left blank.
Dread gripped me by the throat as I opened it.
 

MS. ELLIS:
Since you decided to break our contract, please be advised that our
agreement is null and void, effectively immediately, resulting in the
following: Ms. Gold is no longer employed at Broker Publishing. She may
collect her personal belongings from the HR Department after noon on
Monday or you may retrieve her things for her.
The book contract you wanted to offer Ms. Hayden is off the table and I
don’t believe she’s a fit for us. She’s welcome to submit the work to me
personally but I’m unlikely to change my mind.
Your parents will be expected to vacate the building as previously
scheduled, along with the rest of the tenants.
The permanent position offered to you in the company is withdrawn. You
will now report directly to Drew Wolff for the remainder of your original
contract, after which point your employment with us will be terminated.
Derrick Thomas
CEO, Broker Publishing
Numb, I leaned back against the headboard and stared blankly at the screen.
I’d understood all of the words, of course, but my brain refused to process
what they meant.
This couldn’t be happening.
Logically, I knew I shouldn’t really be surprised. We had signed a legally
binding contract and I’d been the one to breach it. Sure, I hadn’t expected to
fall for him, but this…This wasn’t the behavior of the man who’d run
across the yard to save my cousin’s hand or who’d scoured the city for a
poetry book I’d once mentioned in an interview. No, this was the guy who’d
fired my friend for a mistake. I hadn’t wanted to believe that the latter was
the real Derrick Thomas.
Jami had tried to tell me.
Even my own instincts had been clamoring for me to listen up.
But I’d thought there was something more to him.
Apparently, I’d been wrong.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I breathed out slowly and tried to cool the pulse
of anger beating inside me but I wasn’t having much luck.
The asshole.
I’d given him three fucking months and he yanked everything back?
Everything.
But of course he did.
The prick.
It didn’t even matter that Jami had been specifically requested by Martin
Danbridge, or that the project had been falling apart without her. No, all that
mattered to that fucking bastard was that he have his revenge for not getting
what he wanted, the rest of the world be damned.
How could I have fallen for an asshole like that?
Noise at the door had me leaping up, my mind crazily painting a picture of
Derrick waiting on the other side of the door to tell me that he’d made a
huge mistake.
I was halfway across the living room when the lock was flipped and Jami
came in, carrying an insulated tote in one hand and a reusable cloth
shopping bag in the other.
She caught sight of me, and her eyebrows went up.
“You look ready to kill,” she said. “And here I am, bringing ice cream and
booze, all the shit you need for a good, long comfort chat between
girlfriends.”
“Give.” I held out my hands and made gimme motions. “I need booze and
ice cream, so I don’t commit murder.”
“Uh-oh.” Wary, she asked, “What happened?”
I wanted to scream. “He’s not honoring our contract.”
To my surprise, Jami hitched up her shoulder. “I was already prepared for
that.”
She cut around me and went to the small kitchen, unpacking her bags and
turning over a pint container of white chocolate raspberry swirl to me
before making a White Russian to go along with it.
Oh, yes…we were going for maximum sugar overload.
I retrieved two spoons and some napkins – one of us inevitably dripped
when ice cream was involved – then headed for our couch. Comfort food
and alcohol was always how Jami and I got over break-ups or other bad
news. I wasn’t so sure it’d work today though. Yes, I was pissed at Derrick,
but I was also furious with myself for not having seen this coming. For
some reason, I’d thought I’d gotten to know the real Derrick, the man
beneath the mask he put up for everyone else.
I’d been an idiot.
The man people saw at work or out and about, the man who went to BDSM
clubs and was rarely photographed with the same woman twice wasn’t the
mask. The mask was the person I’d thought I’d seen on the Fourth of July,
the one who’d made me laugh and burn with passion. That man didn’t exist.
He was just part of this whole fucking experiment.
That should have tipped me off right from the start. Who considered a
relationship and marriage something to be negotiated like a book advance?
Jami coming over to join me stopped my self-flagellation, but it brought
back up the question I’d had a few minutes ago.
“What did you mean when you said you were prepared for this?”
With a faint smile, she said, “He’s not the kind of person to do something
nice out of the goodness of his heart. And don’t feel guilty on my behalf,
Jess. I never wanted to get my job back at your expense.” She nudged my
knee with hers. “Your parents didn’t want you sacrificing your happiness
for their store either. It will all be okay.”
I couldn’t tell her that, for a brief while, I’d thought I’d actually be happy
with the arrangement. Happy with Derrick.
Instead, I brought up the most innocent victim of Derrick’s vendetta.
“He’s not going to sign Bristol Hayden,” I said quietly. “How do I tell her
that?”
Jami scowled. “Idiot. You’d think he’d at least be smart about the business
aspect. She’s a goldmine in the making. But…we’ll figure something out.
You have contacts. Use them.”
Well, damn. I hadn’t even considered something like that.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s make a plan.”
THIRTY-ONE
 DERRICK

M y back was killing me . M y head was , too , but that was because
I’d been getting by on a mostly liquid diet even after the fiasco at the bar
Saturday night. But my back was a mess because I’d been sleeping in my
office instead of going home and the only way to fix that was to go home at
night.
I didn’t want to go home.
The couch in my office was perfectly serviceable for sexual interludes or
power naps but it sucked when it came to actual sleep. I needed a decent
massage and to go home, sleep in my own bed. Maybe then I’d actually get
more than a couple hours in, hopefully without the dreams that’d been
plaguing me.
I’d think about it…tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, when I would have
been home from the short honeymoon Anamaria had booked. Jessica’s
things would’ve been moved in, but I’d fully intended to spend the night
claiming her in every room in my penthouse. Not that we hadn’t already
had sex in almost every room anyway, but this would’ve been the first time
as husband and wife.
And apparently, that meant more to me than I’d thought it would.
Fuck.
No.
I could suffer through another night or two on the miserable couch until I
could get her out of my head. I’d considered going to a hotel, but that
would’ve reminded me of the hotel we’d had booked for our honeymoon.
Plus, it was easier to literally work myself into exhaustion here than it was
from a hotel room.
Maybe it’d help to get a new bed. Hell, I could have my whole fucking
apartment remodeled so that nothing reminded me of Jessica. It wasn’t like
I really had much in the way of personal attachment to anything I had.
“These are the last for now, Mr. Thomas,” Anamaria said, placing two more
checks, already filled out, in front of me. For once, there weren’t any smart-
ass remarks, which I appreciated. I could do without them, especially since
Anamaria was firmly in the camp that this was my own fault in the first
place.
Scrawling my signature on them, I said, “You’ve handled returning the
gifts?”
“Of course, sir,” she paused, and then added, “Your mother called again.”
I grunted. “I’ll talk to her later.” In a year, maybe.
Mom hadn’t been the only person reaching out after the fiasco of my
would-be wedding. Amelia had been worried enough when I didn’t answer
her calls or respond to her texts that she’d actually called Drew. Because I
hadn’t been taking his calls or texts either, he’d actually sent an email to my
work address. He’d basically told me to get my head out of my ass. I
deleted it without responding.
It was no surprise at all that my father hadn’t said anything to me since he’d
left the non-wedding, and even then, he’d spoken to the entire family when
he’d said he was going back to work since there was no point in staying. He
hadn’t even told me that I should’ve known better. It’d been as if he’d felt
what’d happened was lesson enough.
He was right. After all, how much worse would this be if I’d actually fallen
in love with her?
“Is there anyone you do want me to put through if they call?” Anamaria
asked.
“Business only,” I said briskly.
“All right.” She took the checks and started for the door. She hadn’t quite
reached it when it flew open, and Jessica strode in.
She was dressed in skinny jeans, a white camisole and flashy, red lace
jacket that made me want to see her wearing that and nothing else. For a
split second, I almost forgot all the shit that had happened over the past
forty-eight hours.
But then our eyes locked, and it all came flooding back along with new
information I hadn’t registered while ogling her body. Her hair was in a
simple ponytail and despite the make-up she wore, I could see dark
smudges under her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping well either.
Except that didn’t mean it was for the same reason as me. For all I knew,
she’d headed straight to another man’s bed and had spent the time since she
ran out of me fucking some other guy.
“Get out,” I told her sharply. “And wear anything so unprofessional again,
and you’re fired.”
She ignored me to look at Anamaria. “May I have a few minutes?”
“Of course, Ms. Ellis.”
“Anamaria—”
But she was already out of the office and closed the door behind her. I
clenched my jaw as I looked at the woman standing across the desk from
me. Unwanted, the memory of the first time we’d officially met came
rushing back. How she’d stood there across from me, angry that I’d fired
her friend, and told me off despite the fact that I was her boss.
“You’re a prick,” she said, voice cold and cutting. But her eyes burned, and
two spots of color appeared on her otherwise pale cheeks.
My blood boiled and my dick pulsed, raging to full and ready attention. The
physical reaction pissed me off as much as anything else and I responded by
icing my voice down as I told her, “Get out. We have nothing to discuss.”
She didn’t move. “The fuck we don’t.”
“If this is about the email, you reneged on the contract—you don’t get shit.”
I folded my arms over my chest.
“I gave you three fucking months.” Her eyes narrowed.
“And if you’d read the entire contract, you’d know that entitles you to
nothing.” Leaning back in my chair, I tapped a finger on my thigh. “You
could have turned down the proposal and we could have discussed the
matter, worked things out. Written up a whole new contract rather than
throw away all that work.”
She blanched and her eyes darkened, slid away. “There wasn’t anything a
new contract would’ve fixed.”
There was an expression there that almost made me think something was
wrong—that something was…no. This was all bullshit. I didn’t know her
real motives, but I didn’t care. Whatever she’d been up to was over and I
was done with her.
“Then, as I said, there’s nothing to discuss. You can leave now. Report to
Drew—”
“Oh, like hell I will.” She came toward the desk.
My muscles tightened, everything in me ready to leap over the obstacle
between us, grab her and bend over the desk. Spank her, then fuck her. Fuck
her until she told me why the hell she’d done this when we had such a good
thing going.
Closing my hand over the arms of the chair to keep me in my seat, I stared
up at her. I normally would have stood to maintain the power dynamic, but I
didn’t trust myself not to touch her, and one touch would undo me. The
scent of her shampoo teased my nostrils, and it took more effort than I liked
not to inhale, trying to imprint it on my lungs, my memory.
“This discussion is over,” I said tightly. I had to get her the fuck out of here,
before I did something stupid, like kiss her. Like demand a fucking
explanation. “You made your bed.”
“Don’t worry.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out an
envelope. “You’ll never have anything to do with my bed again.”
I scowled but didn’t take the bait. “You made your choice. If you don’t like
the consequences, that’s just too fucking bad–”
“I have one more decision to make.” She cut me off. Placing the envelope
on the surface of my desk, she used her index finger to slide it closer. “And
I’m making it now. I don’t need until the end of the year, Mr. Thomas. I
quit. Effective right now.”
She straightened, gave me a cool look of derision and turned on her heel.
As she strode out of the office, she threw one last comment over her
shoulder.
“And I look damn good today. Asshole.”
The door closed behind her with a quiet snick and she was gone. Out of my
office and out of my company.
Out of my life.
The pain that twisted through me made me want to scream. I grabbed the
empty coffee cup from its place next to my monitor and hurled it at the
wall.
“Son of a bitch!”
THIRTY-TWO
 JESSICA

A fter collecting my personal belongings from my office , I made a

pit stop by the apartment to drop everything off. Jami was on the couch in
her comfiest pajamas, looking for jobs. I’d asked her if she wanted to get
her belongings from the office, but she’d said there was nothing there she
needed. She hadn’t bothered settling in when she’d become my assistant.
She hadn’t needed to tell me that it was because, in her gut, she’d always
known this wasn’t going to work.
I really appreciated her not rubbing it in.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“About how you’d expect. He was a surly bastard. I called him a prick and
he told me I had to deal with the consequences of my choices.” I shrugged
and kept my voice nonchalant.
I couldn’t tell her how hurt I was by the encounter, how it had twisted my
insides to hear him talk that way, as if there’d never been anything more
than paper between us. She’d never understand how much I’d come to care
for him. Hell, I didn’t understand it myself.
“You could’ve stayed,” Jami said. “He had you reporting to Drew for the
rest of your original contract. I wouldn’t have thought less of you for it.”
“Yeah, well, I would’ve thought less of myself.” I took my little potted
plant from my box of things and set it on the table. Everything else could
wait.
“Are you going to join me?” Jami asked. “I can show you what I’ve already
found. There’s not much, but it’s something.”
“No, but thanks. I’m going to go. I need to go talk to my parents.” Sighing,
I looked around the apartment. “We’ve got to figure out something, fast, or
we’ll both end up homeless.”
“Nah. I can always go back home to my folks.” She made a face and added,
“It might drive me crazy, but I can do it if I have to.”
After a quick hug, I picked up my purse again and left. Hopefully, the
subway ride to my parents’ store would give me time to figure out how to
explain this whole mess to them. They’d been so understanding of
everything already and now I had to go tell them that I’d completely fucked
up the only chance to save the store.
Of course, Mom and Dad weren’t going to be the hardest people to talk to.
No.
That would be Bristol and her agent, Imani. And that was a conversation I
had no idea how to approach. I honestly was still wrapping my head around
that part of Derrick’s revenge. It wasn’t just stupid on a professional level,
but petty in a way I’d never imagined he could be. He was willing to hurt
Bristol’s career just to get back at me.
“One step at a time,” I told myself as I headed back out onto the street.
“Just take it one step at a time.”

“HI, HONEY!”
My mom wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in for a hug. The
warmth of her embrace and the familiar scent of her—books and lavender
—was so soothing, the knot in my chest eased and I held on a few seconds
longer than normal, reveling in the safety and warmth of a mother’s love.
She didn’t say anything, just hugged me back and when I stepped away, she
smiled and smoothed a hand down my hair.
“How are you?”
I made a face. “Tired of being asked that. I’m okay, Mom. Really.”
I could tell she didn’t believe me, but I let it go. After all, she was right. It
was a lie.
After giving my dad a hug, I picked up a box of books and went to stock the
shelves, taking comfort in the familiar work and waiting for my mind to
settle so I could talk.
Finally, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and blurted out, “He’s going to take
the store.”
Mom covered my hand with hers, a strangely placid expression on her face.
“We assumed as much. It was all part of your deal, after all. And you didn’t
go through with it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “I couldn’t—”
“None of that.” My father approached and wrapped an arm around me. “Do
you really think we’d want you to sacrifice yourself, for even a minute, if it
meant you being unhappy?”
“You’ll lose the store!” Tears threatened to spill over as I stared at him, with
a helplessness inside me that threatened to overwhelm everything else. “I
could have handled it for a year. To save the store, I could’ve done it.”
But, really…Could I have? I didn’t think I could have.
“We don’t want you handling unhappiness on our behalf—or yours.” My
father cupped my hands in his hands and glared at me, a mix of frustration
and love on his face. “You’re the light of my life, baby. But you can be so
stubborn. It’s not your job to take care of us.”
“It’s not only about taking care of you…although fuck that.” I glared at him
when he frowned. “You and Mom worked your asses off for me. I wanted
to do something for you. But I also love this store. Now we’re going to lose
it.”
It broke my heart.
I’d never forgive Derrick for this. Never.
He wouldn’t care—it hadn’t been anything more than fodder for his stupid
book, but it mattered to me.
“We’ll figure something out.” My father kissed my forehead, then nudged
me back. “Now…let’s talk about you. You’re not at work, so I’m assuming
there’s a reason other than the fact that you were supposed to be on…
vacation.”
“Yes.” Moving back around behind the counter, I scanned the shop before
looking them both in the eye. “I quit my job.”
“Okay.” Dad didn’t sound surprised.
My mother folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “Good.”
I stared at them as they both watched me, apparently waiting for me to go
on. How could they be so easy going about this? Not only were they going
to lose their livelihood thanks to me, I had no job either and no hope of
helping them.
“I’m not sure what to do now,” I said hesitantly.
“What do you want to do?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know.” I hated saying that.
I’d always known what I wanted to do, what the next step was to getting
there. Not knowing threw me so far out of my element that I wasn’t just
confused, but completely lost. I had no way to get myself back on track.
“I mean, I still want to help people create their books, but how am I
supposed to do that by myself?”
Mom came to me then and hugged me, then kissed my cheek.
“If that’s what you’re meant to do, then you’ll find a way. And we will be
right there supporting you the entire time.”
“HEY.”
Startled, I looked up as Amelia plopped down onto one of the comfy chairs
across from mine. I’d just stopped for a short break between customers and
being in this part of the store had always been comforting to me.
“Amelia.” My heart started hammering in my chest and once more, I found
myself cursing the complexion I’d inherited from my mother as my face
heated and my cheeks turned pink. “What are you doing here?”
She offered a half smile. “Can’t you guess?”
Right.
“Look,” I cleared my throat, “I’m sorry about the wedding. About
everything. I should have said something sooner, and I know that…but—”
“Jessica…stop.” Amelia leaned in and covered my hand. “I’m here to see
how you’re doing. Don’t worry about apologizing to me.”
The compassion in her eyes almost broke me. It was one thing to receive
such a gift from my parents and Jami, but Amelia was one of those who’d
been wronged by me. I doubted she knew the truth of my relationship with
her brother, so to her, I was the woman who’d literally left her brother at the
altar.
And she’d come to see how I was doing.
She squeezed my hand, her gaze soft. “You look like you need to talk.”
Talk? I almost started laughing. Talk with somebody who had no ulterior
motive? Who actually cared about other people’s feelings? What a novel
idea.
“Shouldn’t you want to talk to your brother rather than me?” I asked.
“He’s angry,” Amelia said softly. “He’s closed up like I’ve never seen him
before. He’s never been close to our parents, but he won’t even talk to me
or Drew. I’m worried for him, but I’m also worried about you.” She
squeezed my hand again. “I get the feeling you cared about him.”
Her gaze was so insightful, I couldn’t lie. And I didn’t want to. She was the
one person who wouldn’t just me for this truth. Miserably, I nodded. “I
did.”
“Then what happened?”
I made no conscious decision to do it, but over the next ten minutes, the
entire story came pouring out of me. Amelia’s eyes softened, then
narrowed, then widened and softened all over again.
Based on how many times she muttered “stupid bastard” and “asshole”
under her breath, I had a feeling when Derrick did finally talk to Amelia, he
wasn’t going to enjoy it.
When I was finished, she sighed and leaned back, releasing my hands but
still watching me with warm, compassionate eyes. Her voice was soft as she
asked, “You still care about my brother, don’t you?”
I clenched my jaw and shook my head. “No.”
Her smile made me think that she could see the truth, that she knew I was
struggling to figure out what my feelings were now. She didn’t push
through.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “This is a mess.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” I said, tucking my hands in my lap and
looking away. I wasn’t comfortable talking about my feelings, not with
anybody, but especially not Amelia.
It sucked to realize that I hadn’t just fucked up my relationship with
Derrick, but with Amelia too. If I’d gone through with the wedding and the
eventual divorce, I had no doubt that she and I would’ve stayed friends. The
fact that she was here now gave me hope, but who knew how things would
change once she heard Derrick’s side of the story.
“What are you going to do to fix my brother’s idiotic decision?”
The somber question had me looking at her. Perplexed, I asked, “What do
you mean, fix? I can’t do shit to fix things. I’ll start looking for another job.
Help my parents find another place for their store…hell if I know how I can
help Jami or Bristol.”
Amelia gave me a long, considering look. “If you could do anything in the
world for work, what would it be?”
Confused, I studied her. “What?”
“What would you do if you could choose any job in the world?” she asked.
I felt like I was missing something. “Why are you asking?”
Her face took on a serious cast and she leaned forward. “You do realize that
my brother isn’t the only one in the family who has money, right?”
My heart fluttered even as I met her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Amelia smiled. “Let’s get some coffee and really talk.”
THIRTY-THREE
 DERRICK

L eaving my office turned out to be a mistake even though I didn ’ t

go far.
Drew caught sight of me as he stood talking with Jerrod Klinefelter, the
head of HR, and Drew immediately ended the discussion to come in my
direction. The determined expression on his face told me that we were
going to talk whether I wanted to or not.
Sighing, I turned the paperwork I’d just finished handling over to
Anamaria, then headed back into my office. Going to the coffee maker, I
poured a fresh cup and waited. I had a feeling I was going to need the
caffeine.
I didn’t have to wait long.
The door shut less than a minute later, shutting out even the low sounds of
my employees. Without turning, I started a cup of coffee for Drew and took
mine to the desk.
He looked at the damage done to the wall near the door. “Do I want to
know?”
I flipped him off. “There’s coffee.”
“I don’t want it.” He remained where he was, gaze cool – almost unfriendly
– as he studied me. “Are we partners here or not?”
“What?” That wasn’t the question I’d expected.
“You heard me.” His voice was hard. “Are we partners or not?”
“Don’t be obtuse,” I said, irritated. “Whatever you have on your mind, will
you just say it? I’m not in the mood to play your fucking mind games?”
“You shouldn’t have fired Jami Gold. Again,” he said. “What else did you
back out on?”
“I’m not the one who backed out.” The muscles in my neck tightened up
and I fought to relax them. “She backed out of the wedding, which means
she didn’t uphold her end of the contract, so I’m not obligated to honor any
part of it.”
“That means you’re taking her parents’ store and you’re not going to sign
the author she’s been courting. Did you fire Jessica, too?” he demanded.
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I said in a cold tone.
“The hell it’s not. We’re partners and I’m the CFO. Anything that could
fuck up the company means I have to be advised on it. Did you fire her?”
He stalked over to the desk and glared at me, eyes icy.
“No. I told her she had until the end of the year to tender her resignation
and she’d be working under you the rest of that time. Then she quit.”
“You stupid son of a bitch!” He spun away and stormed to the door, then
back. “Do you know how badly this could backfire on us? She can sue the
fuck out of you—and win. All she has to say is that you created a hostile
work environment when she refused to marry you and she could take it all.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Leaning back, I gave him an irritated look. “We had a
contract. She didn’t uphold her end of the bargain. It was business.”
“She gave you three months out of fifteen. And any judge who has to deal
with your arrogant ass will call her a saint for that, especially when they
find out the rest of what you took from her.” He came back to the desk and
leaned forward. “I can tell by looking at you that you’re pissed, that you did
this to get back at her. If she decides to go to a lawyer, you’re fucked. We’re
all fucked.”
“If she does, we’ll cross that bridge then.” It annoyed me that I hadn’t
considered that. It annoyed me even more that Drew wasn’t wrong. I could
claim that the contract freed me from legal obligation but I knew if Jessica
pushed it, things could go her way. “Was there something important you
wanted to talk about or are you just in here jerking my chain for nothing?”
“I want you to think,” he said slowly, like he was speaking to a small child.
“And fuck, if you’re this screwed up, call her—find out what the fuck
happened. Work it out.”
“I’ll take your advice into consideration.”
The fuck I would.
His jaw tightened as he studied me. Without saying anything else, he turned
to go.
Before he reached the door, I said, “You know, I don’t need your approval
on anything. We might be partners, but in the end, I’m the fucking CEO
here.”
He looked back at me as he opened the door. “Right now, the only thing you
are is a colossal dick, Derrick.”
Furious, I opened my mouth to snarl at him, but somebody walked by the
door and I snapped my mouth shut.
Grabbing my phone, I lingered long enough to shut my computer down then
stood up. I wasn’t getting jackshit done anyway.
At the door, I saw Anamaria busily working away at her computer.
“I’m done for the day,” I said.
“Have a good night, Mr. Thomas,” she said tightly.
Pissed off that I’d let my temper get the better of me, again, I headed for the
stairwell instead of the elevator, not wanting to run into anybody.
I needed a fucking drink.
And a distraction.
I ENDED up at the club since it seemed like the best place to get everything
I needed, and I didn’t have to worry about accidentally running into Jessica.
Our agreed-upon monogamy was no longer an issue, but I didn’t want to
just get laid. I could’ve gone to any bar and found a woman to have sex
with. Hell, I could’ve picked someone up at a grocery store if sex was all I
was looking for.
I needed to dominate someone.
Not because I was so pissed at Jessica that I wanted to inflict – consensual –
pain. No, I just needed the control. Everything that had happened since
Jessica walked out of our wedding had been out of my control and I needed
it back. I could get that here.
I got a drink and settled in a comfortable chair in the back, intending to
enjoy the show while I surveyed the selection of subs who’d either come in
alone or whose masters wanted to share them. I wasn’t into threesomes with
another man, but I didn’t mind being watched. Maybe that was what I
needed, to control not only a sub, but to an extent, her Dom as well.
On the main stage, a popular Domme and her partner, a switch she’d been
with for a while, were enjoying a sub, the switch guiding the sub’s head
between the woman’s thighs before he went back to tying up the fit male, an
attractive guy who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
Every time the sub started to slow down, the Domme would smack him on
the shoulders with a crop, a playful tap, but one he clearly enjoyed if the
massive erection he was sporting was any indication. Then again, that
might’ve had something to do with the cock ring he wore at the base of his
shaft.
The switch finished with the restraints, then moved to kneel behind the
other man. I watched, intrigued in a distant way and mildly aroused by the
sensuality, but that was it. I was bored. Dissatisfied. Restless in a way that I
rarely ever was here.
Every available sub I saw, I dismissed just as quickly. Too tall. Too short.
Too meek. Too jaded. Their hair was too short for me to pull. I didn’t like
the style of their clothes.
I didn’t feel a single pull of attraction, making me wonder if I should just
finish watching the show and then head home alone.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I was caught off-guard when Starla,
a woman I’d played with a couple of times, dropped to her knees in front of
me. A curvy brunette, she’d been in the scene for almost as long as I had
and enjoyed a heavier hand than I usually applied. I’d once watched her
come from half a dozen lashes with a cane directly between her legs. I’d
never needed to be careful with her, and right now, that sounded appealing.
“Starla.”
“Hello, Master.” She leaned forward to rub her cheek against my thigh.
“You look awfully lonely over here.”
“Do I?” It pissed me off that I felt a pang in my chest because fuck if she
wasn’t right. Determined to chase that void away, I trailed a finger down
her cheek and smiled. “You want to do something about that?”
“Can I?” Her lips curved and she pushed apart my knees to get closer. “It’s
been such a long time.”
As she nuzzled my stomach through my shirt, I asked, “Would you like to
cheer me up, Starla?”
“Oh, Master. I’d love to.” She stroked her hands up my legs, starting at my
ankles and slowly gliding higher.
I willed myself to focus on her, staring at the leather and mesh bra that
cupped and lifted a magnificent pair of breasts. She rubbed them against my
legs, the open cups letting me feel her pierced nipples. I’d once spent an
entire hour playing with those piercings and knew intimately how they felt
and tasted. I knew the sounds she’d make when I twisted them. Knew just
how far I could push her into pain before it was too much.
She should have stirred me.
Instead, I found myself wishing for the spill of strawberry-blonde curls over
my thighs. Light gray eyes peering up through thick lashes. Eye contact that
subs knew not to give. Pretty pink nipples I could lick and bite until they
were swollen and overly sensitized.
Shit.
As Starla pushed and reached for my belt, I caught her hands.
“Stop,” I said, disgusted with myself but fighting not to let it show in my
voice. Why the fuck was I still thinking about Jessica? Starla was the sort of
woman I needed. Someone I could dominate and fuck and then not have to
worry about whether or not I fired her friend…
Dammit.
Starla risked a glance up at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “Should we get a
room?”
“No. I’m heading out. Sorry, honey.” I kissed her forehead and rose, anger
making my spine tight as frustration burned me up inside.
Even the beautiful late summer night couldn’t soothe me. My cock pressed
against my zipper, but it wasn’t because of Starla’s touch or the show I’d
been watching. All it’d taken for me to get hard was thinking of Jessica.
Out in my car, I closed my eyes. Since I hadn’t had much to drink, I could
drive myself home whenever I was ready, but I didn’t think I was there yet.
I rubbed at my bleary eyes and wondered how in the hell I was supposed to
get that woman out of my head.
My dick ached.
I wanted to punish her—and not in the playful way I’d normally use with
one of my subs. I wanted her on her knees, bent over a spanking bench as I
paddled her ass with my bare hand, making that perfect ass red and
knowing that she wouldn’t want to sit down for days.
Unzipping my pants, I pulled my cock out and started to stroke. The images
in my head spun out more to the story.
After she was whimpering, once she’d begged me to forgive her, to fuck
her, maybe I would. But I’d take it nice and slow—fucking her pussy until
she was ready to come, then stopping, giving her time to come down before
I lubed up her ass and eased inside, slow, but not stopping. The thought of
her clenching around my dick, whimpering, almost ready to beg me to stop
even as she wiggled and pushed back on me, had my cock pulsing in my
hand.
I wouldn’t let her come until she was rabid for it.
Until she begged.
Until she promised to give me every damn thing I’d been expecting from
her—everything she’d jerked away right when I’d thought it was all mine.
Only then would I touch her clit, and I wouldn’t be gentle. I’d send her
screaming over the edge, swearing that she’d never walk away from me
again. And then I’d pull out and come all over her back, marking her as
mine.
Breath stuttering out of my lungs, I grabbed a handful of napkins from the
glove compartment and came in them. My cock pulsed and twitched as it
emptied, and my mind was blissfully blank.
For all of five seconds, and then I was forced to remember that none of that
would ever happen.
“Damn you, Jessica.”
THIRTY-FOUR
 JESSICA

“W ow .” B ristol leaned back in her seat , looking blindsided .

I completely understood how she felt. I’d been bewildered by Derrick’s

decisions, and I’d known about the contract.
Imani looked pissed and I didn’t blame her. We’d all worked so hard on this
and a dumb decision on my part had fucked it up for everybody. Granted, I
couldn’t say for certain that Derrick would’ve signed Bristol if I hadn’t
been involved, but at least she would’ve had a clean break early on instead
of putting even more time and effort into something she thought was a sure
thing, only to have it ripped away.
“There’s nothing we can do about it?” Bristol asked.
“No.” Imani rubbed her forehead like she was getting a headache. “We
hadn’t signed anything yet.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. I’d been apologizing a lot recently and it
didn’t get any easier. “I should’ve put everything down in writing from
moment one.”
Imani shook her head. “We weren’t at that point yet.”
She was right, but I still felt guilty. We’d been gearing up to it, but Bristol
had been polishing her manuscript and trying to hammer out a proposal for
a second book that I could take to Derrick. The plan had been to have
everything ready to pitch when we got back from our honeymoon. Now, the
plan had fallen into ruin, and I couldn’t even really go into detail about why
without destroying her faith in me—and maybe herself. I had every reason
to believe her book would be a hit, but she might think I’d bargained with
Derrick because I thought it wouldn’t sell on its own and I wasn’t chancing
that. I couldn’t be responsible for destroying her confidence too.
“We were close,” I said with a sad smile.
Reaching for my water glass, I sipped and hoped I didn’t look as nervous as
I felt. Jami gave me an encouraging smile and motioned for me to continue.
She was helping me, but this was my plan.
“We’re not going to give up on this. I believe in your book, Bristol. And
I’ve got a financial backer who believes in me. I’d like to continue working
with you and publish your book.”
“I…” She looked confused and glanced at Imani.
Imani inclined her head, an interested light in her eyes. “You want to
independently publish her book with you acting as the publisher and editor?
On your own?”
“Yes.”
Jami handed me the two identical files we’d put together outlining the offer
and I gave one to Imani and one to Bristol. “This might sound like a rash
decision, but it’s not. Not really. I’ve been thinking about starting my own
company for a while. It was my long-term plan but I’m willing to do the
work to make the now plan. I’ve got the contacts and I know the industry.
I’m willing to work hard and do what it takes. The question is…do you
want to take the chance with me?”

“I THINK this will work out just fine.”

Frank Fellows smiled at me as he rose from behind his desk and held out
his hand.
We now had a preliminary agreement for distribution and my heart was
racing in my chest, pounding hard and fast as excitement tried to gurgle
over and overwhelm me. I kept it under control as I stood and accepted his
hand in mine. He squeezed a little too tight, held on a little too long, and the
light in his eyes was one I’d seen before. He’d been checking me out when
I’d first come in though, so it didn’t surprise me.
Annoy, yes. Surprise, no.
Tugging free of his grip, I picked up my purse and said, “Well, thank you.
It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. I’m going to get going.”
“Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner?” He grinned at me. “A
celebration of sorts for our new partnership?”
“I can’t.” Flashing him a bland smile, I said, “My assistant and I already
made plans for the evening, and if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.”
“Come now, I’m sure she’d understand.”
While not taking no for an answer could be an admirable trait in business, it
was definitely an unattractive characteristic when it came to pursuing a
woman who wasn’t interested.
I kept my tone polite. “We’ve got so much work to do if we’re going to get
our first book out according to schedule. I’m sure you know how it is.”
“Of course, of course…” Frank smiled, but his gaze lowered to linger on
my breasts, and I knew I’d be taking a shower as soon as possible.
Not waiting for him to try anything else. I headed for the door, walking as
fast as I could without looking like I was fleeing.
I waited until I was a block away before I ducked into a small diner to get
myself some lunch. The last thing I wanted to do was stop somewhere close
enough to risk running into Frank again.
Once settled, I shot a text to Jami and Amelia and let them know the
meeting had gone well. I hadn’t been lying when I’d told Frank that I had
plans tonight. Jami and I intended to spend as much time as we could
putting together all the pieces that we’d need to get Bristol’s book the
attention it deserved.
After that, I sent Imani and Bristol a similar update and informed them
we’d have a timetable for publication soon. Imani responded almost
immediately, giving me an update on where everything stood. By the time
my lunch arrived, Bristol sent her own message, a series of emojis that I
took to mean she was happy with my news.
I waited until I finished to text my parents, not quite sure how much I
wanted to tell them. I stuck with simplicity.
I spoke with a distributor today and we’re moving forward with that book
I’ve been so excited about. Once I get the go-ahead, I’ll tell you more about
it.
They’d both replied by the time I settled in my seat on the subway, their
messages the expected words of praise and encouragement. I smiled as I
read them, but I had the same problem most kids did when their parents had
always supported their dreams. I always had the thought in the back of my
head that they were my parents, so of course they’d say all those nice
things.
I had other people. Jami was honest with me, and I knew Amelia believed
in me, but I still struggled with self-doubt and wished there was someone I
could talk to about it. Without intending to, I thought of Derrick, and for
some reason, he was the one I wanted to tell.
Immediately, I kicked myself. He was the last person I wanted to see and I
doubted he ever wanted to hear my name again. Besides, things were
working out the way they needed to, really.
I knew that.
And yet…somehow, I missed him.
I missed the angry, self-centered, arrogant bastard who’d broken my heart.
How fucking stupid was that?
THIRTY-FIVE
 DERRICK

“Y ou look like you didn ’ t slept well .”

Glancing at Anamaria as she put a file down in front of me, I frowned. “I’m
fine.”
“That’s not what I said, and you haven’t been fine since Jessica walked out
of your wedding.” She made a sound of disgust low in her throat as she
picked up my empty coffee cup. “What was she thinking? I had my doubts
about this wedding, but…”
She shook her head as her words trailed off. She took my cup to the small
sink by the wet bar and rinsed it out, then poured me a fresh one. All the
while, I waited for her to finish that thought.
When she didn’t, I found myself asking, “But what?”
“You seemed like you were…happier,” she finally said. “And I thought she
had feelings for you. What I really don’t understand is, if she was just going
to cancel the whole thing the day of, why did she even agree to marry you
in the first place and cause all this trouble?”
She came back to my desk and put my coffee down, her lips compressed to
a thin line. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her question, so I
didn’t say anything. Anamaria hadn’t agreed with how I’d handled things,
but I hadn’t realized she was pissed at Jessica for what’d happened.
“You invested all that time and money, but more importantly, you were
happier. Then she left you standing at the altar and didn’t even give you a
reason. She wasn’t the woman I thought she was.” Huffing out a breath, she
folded her arms over her chest. “You’re better off without her.”
“Talking about Jessica?”
Anamaria jumped a little at the sound of Drew’s voice, but she quickly
settled her features. “Mr. Wolff.”
He glanced at her before coming in and taking the chair across from my
desk.
“Jessica was an exceptional editor, and she ran her imprint well. We’re still
struggling to get our women’s self-help titles to take off and we’ll have
trouble replacing her with the budget we have available.” He hooked a leg
over his ankle and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, a look in his
eyes that put my senses on alert. “She also took a promising author with
her.”
“Who?” Anamaria stiffened, her shoulders drawing back and her eyes
narrowing. “Should we contact our lawyers?”
I was glad she asked, because it saved me the trouble. What the hell had
Jessica done?
“Bristol Hayden.” Drew gave me a hard look. He’d been a supporter of
hers, thought she’d be good for the company. “We hadn’t signed any
contracts yet, so Bristol is free to sign with whomever she wants.”
“She’s a new author,” I said dismissively. “Who knows how well her book
would’ve done with us. And whatever Jessica is doing, it won’t work.
She’ll never get the book into stores.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Drew drummed his fingers faster, a worried look
in his eyes.
I waited, but he stayed silent. My gut told me there was a reason my friend
had come into my office and it wasn’t just to reiterate his opinion that I’d
fucked things up.
“Anamaria, give us a few minutes.”
She glanced at Drew then nodded, leaving us in silence.
Once she was out of the room, the door closed behind her, Drew said, “I
just heard through the grapevine that Jessica has made a distribution deal
with Frank Fellows. He’ll be working with her on getting Bristol Hayden’s
books into stores.”
“What the fuck?” I clenched my hand around the coffee cup convulsively.
Frank Fellows? “He’s a predatory piece of shit!”
“I know. Maybe you should call Jessica and warn her about him.” Drew
cocked an eyebrow. “He’s got the money and power to keep most of the
people he’s made a move on quiet. We both know that, but she probably has
no idea what kind of bastard he is.”
I clenched my jaw as myriad emotions coursed through me. Concern for
her. Disgust at Fellows. Fury that she’d put herself in such a dangerous
position.
Guilt that I’d played a part in putting her there.
“You won’t do it.” Drew sighed and looked away. “Even if she’s put in a
bad place with a dangerous fuck, you’re going to stay quiet.” He shook his
head. “I wish I could say I was surprised.”
“She made her choice,” I said. I had no intention of ever seeing, or talking,
to Jessica Ellis again. But I wouldn’t let any woman be in a position to be
victimized by that man, no matter who she was.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to talk to Jessica to deal with Fellows.
“So you’re just going to let her—”
“I’ll handle it,” I snapped. “But I’m not talking to her. I can take care of
things without contacting…her.”
Drew’s eyebrows came together as he frowned. “What the fuck does that
mean?”
I smirked at him. “I’m going to kill the deal.”
He watched me for a moment, but when I didn’t elaborate, he blew out a
breath. “You’re going to kill the deal to keep her away from Fellows, and
that’s good, but you don’t seem to care that it’s going to fuck both her and a
new author over…again. You still don’t give a damn that you’re hurting
innocent people.”
“Jessica made her choice,” I said again. “And she sure as hell didn’t think
about who she hurt in the process.”
The look he gave me suggested that he knew I wasn’t just talking about
Bristol and Jami being hurt. Thankfully, he didn’t ask questions I wasn’t
ready to answer. I didn’t even want to admit to myself how much Jessica
had hurt me. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Drew.
“You could offer her the job back,” he suggested. “We both know she’s the
best person for the position and—”
“Stop.” Temper sharpened my voice. “I don’t plan on ever seeing her again,
got it? It’s over. I’ll keep Fellows away from her because no woman should
have to deal with him, but that’s it. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
I could tell he wanted to say more but he just rose and left, pulling the door
shut behind him. It was definitely for the best. I didn’t want to lose my best
friend over this shit.
I started to reach for the phone, but stopped and picked up my coffee
instead. I needed a clearer head for this. Clearer head, calmer emotions.
Focus on the problem and not the emotion. Think about what an asshole
Fellows was and not how it’d felt standing in front of my family and friends
as my fiancée said she couldn’t marry me.
Fuck Jessica for doing this to me. Fuck her and Drew and everybody at this
point.
That was not clearer or calmer.
I let out a sigh and reminded myself that it’d be a bad idea to pour myself
something stronger than coffee. I needed to stay sharp too. Sharp. Calm.
Clear.
Maybe I should’ve made decaf.
A few minutes later, I felt in control enough to do what needed to be done. I
called Frank’s direct line. Or, rather, as direct as it could get.
“Frank Fellows’s office. How can I help you?” A perky voice that probably
belonged to a curvy, barely-legal blonde greeted me.
“Tell Mr. Fellows that Derrick Thomas wants to speak to him.”
“May I ask what this is in regards to?” She sounded like she was reading
from a script.
“I’m the CEO of Broker Publishing,” I said, letting her make whatever
assumption she wanted.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas. Let me just put you on hold for a moment and
I’ll get you right over to him.”
A moment later, a familiar voice came over the line.
“Derrick! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Frank sounded more bored than
anything else, but I’d known he’d take the call, if for nothing else than his
connections to my dad…and the hope that I’d hire him to distribute Broker
Publishing books.
“I heard about a new publisher you recently made a deal with. One Jessica
Ellis.”
“Words move fast.” He chuckled. “We haven’t even signed the paperwork.
It’s happening though. Contracts are in with the lawyers now. I heard she’d
been working with you. Bad luck, man. I wouldn’t have let a sexy thing
like–”
“I’m glad you haven’t signed the paperwork yet,” I said, cutting him off.
“Kill the deal.”
Several seconds of silence passed before he said, “What?”
“You heard me. Kill the deal or I’ll make sure you’re blackballed in the
publishing industry,” I told him. “Everyone who owes me a favor or wants
me to owe them one. Broker might not be one of the big four, but I have
more than enough contacts to make a sizable dent in your income.”
“You…what the fuck, Thomas?” he half-shouted. “What’s this about?”
“You don’t need to know what it’s about,” I replied. “You just need to know
that if you do any business with Jessica Ellis, or go near her, you won’t do
business with the Thomas family ever again.” I paused, then added, “And
I’ll start letting word spread about some of the problems you’ve had in the
past. Won’t take much to ruin your…reputation.”
“You fuck. I’ll sue your ass.” He sounded like he was talking through
clenched teeth and I had no doubt that his face was a frightening shade of
red.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d give himself a heart attack and save me the
trouble of having to threaten him.
“You can’t sue over the truth, you stupid prick.” I couldn’t deny that I was
enjoying this. “But I’d love to see you try. Now…are you going to end that
deal or not?”
His labored breaths filled the line for five seconds before he snapped, “Fine.
I’ll kill the deal, you son of a bitch.”
The line went dead without him waiting for me to respond, but I expected
nothing less. I sighed and slumped in my chair, my head starting to pound.
Drew’s words echoed in my mind as I sat there. His accusation that I didn’t
care that my actions would hurt not only Jessica but Bristol as well. Except
he was wrong.
I did care. I had no idea why. But I did.
Bristol would land on her feet if she was as good as Jessica thought. It
wasn’t as if I’d gone around telling other publishers not to sign her.
Contrary to what most people believed, it actually took time and effort to
have a book published. Her agent would need to start shopping the
manuscript around again. Annoying, sure, but far from ruining her life.
As for Jessica…
“Fuck this shit.”
Rising, I went to the bar and picked up the bottle of Scotch sitting there. It
was still in the middle of the workday, and I was about to start drinking. It
was stupid and reckless, I knew, but I had to figure out how to cope
somehow. Actually, I needed to go to the club, find a sub and fuck my
feelings away. Remind myself that I only had one use for most women.
Fucking.
But I only wanted Jessica.
And she was gone.
“Fuck this shit.”
THIRTY-SIX
 JESSICA

A dull headache throbbed at the base of my skull , and all I

wanted was to find some place quiet and put my head down so I could cry.
All of the hope I’d felt about fixing the things I’d broken, making things
right with Bristol, getting to do what I’d always wanted to do…it was all
gone. All I could feel now was failure.
Frank Fellows had just called and told me that unfortunately, due to some
unforeseen complications, he wouldn’t be able to move forward with our
distribution deal. He wouldn’t elaborate and when I’d tried to remind him
that we’d already started the contract process, he’d said he’d cover the
lawyer fees, but he wouldn’t change his mind.
The fucking asshole.
He hadn’t even explained if there was a problem with the book or not. If I
didn’t know if something was wrong, I couldn’t fix it and I ran the risk of
having any future deals fall through too. Unless there wasn’t something
wrong on my end. In that case, it was just frustrating.
Either way, how was I supposed to explain this new hiccup to Imani and
Bristol? And they weren’t the only ones I had to answer to. I had Amelia
willing to act as my financer but without a plan in place for distribution,
what the fuck was I supposed to do?
The door to the bookstore opened and several customers came in, laughing
and chatting about the rain we were supposed to get later today. I
straightened, pasting a smile in place that I didn’t feel. Coming out from
behind the counter, I went to meet them.
“What can I help you with today?”
A tall, pretty blonde turned me with a smile and pulled a book from her
purse. “We’re looking for more titles by this author. Do you have any?”
Her dark-haired friend added, “And if you know of anyone else like them,
that would be great too.”
The popular author was one we had trouble keeping in stock and I smiled as
I remembered how I’d had to convince my father to up how many copies he
stocked. He’d been glad he had when he saw how fast we sold them.
“Come this way.”
After showing them what we had on the shelves, I made a few other
suggestions for authors who wrote with a similar style and answered their
questions. I’d always enjoyed this part of my parents’ business, matching
people with the right books.
As I left the women to browse and make their selections, I went back to the
front and tried to solve the issue of distribution.
Between working in publishing and being raised in a bookstore, I had a list
of distributors, but Frank Fellows was more open to taking on independent
publishers and worked closely with some of the local bookstores in the
state. Despite the strides made for indie authors over the past few years,
getting into brick-and-mortar stores was still difficult in most places.
The young women came to the counter with their selections, chatting about
their fall semester classes at NYU. They looked quite pleased with their
haul and seeing the stack of titles made me smile. People always talked
about how reading was decreasing in younger generations, so it was always
good to see readers my age or younger.
“Are you looking to hire anybody?”
I smiled at the cute brunette who’d asked the question and shook my head.
“No. I’m afraid the store’s future is kind of up in the air right now.”
“What?” They all gave me varying looks of dismay though it was the
blonde who spoke.
“The building’s been bought, and we have to vacate. My parents aren’t sure
what they’re going to do, so…we’re in limbo.” I passed her back her debit
card and her books, a knot forming in my throat at the thought of closing
the store.
One more thing in my world that was falling apart. One more thing I could
have prevented.
“That sucks,” a skinny Black girl said, shaking her head. “Big business
people always gotta come in and chase out local places, hurting great little
shops like this. It ain’t right.”
Her friends vocalized support and I smiled. I understood the positive things
that the internet had brought to publishing, but one of the unfortunate
casualties was the loss of actual bookstores, particularly ones like my
parents’. I’d always thought there was room for both, but most people
didn’t share my opinion.
“I know,” I agreed. “That’s life, though, isn’t it?”
A few minutes later, they were gone, and I retreated back behind the
counter. The despondency tried to rise up again and I grabbed a pad of
paper in a fit of desperation. I’d find a way through this. I had to. I had too
many people counting on me for anything else to be an option.
Just as I started making a physical list of distributors, my phone rang. With
a sigh, I picked it up and my breath caught in my throat when I saw the
name of the caller on the screen.
“What the fuck?” Dazed, I tried to figure out why Rand Distributing might
be calling me. They were one of the biggest distributors in the country. The
big four used them. I had Rand’s information on my phone because I’d
helped smooth out an issue with the store for my parents a while back, but
there wasn’t anything going on now, was there?
The phone rang again, startling me.
In a rush, I answered with a shaky, “Hello?”
“Hi, yes, may I speak to Jessica Ellis, please?”
“This is Jessica.” My heart slammed against my ribs. The woman’s voice
sounded familiar though I couldn’t place a name to it.
“Jessica, hi, it’s Kate Jorgen with Rand Distributing. We’ve met at a few
events. How are you?”
Kate Jorgen. I remembered her now. She was from the Midwest somewhere
and was probably a decade or so older than me. We’d bonded over a love of
graphic novels and Zane Grey books, generally looking for each other at
publishing events over the past few years.
“I…I’m fine, Kate. How are you doing?” I spread my free hand wide on the
counter and tried to will my heartrate to slow. I didn’t want to get my hopes
up as to why she was calling me.
“I’m doing well. Listen…I’m being a little quick on the trigger here, but I
believe in jumping on it when I hear about a big opportunity. I hear you’re
working with a popular blogger who is putting together a book…Bristol
Hayden?”
My heart lurched. “Yes…I am.” How had she heard that? The circle of
people who knew about Bristol was small, and those who knew we were
still working together was smaller still.
“Excellent. I’m a diehard fan of her blog and I’ve been following her along
as she talks about the book she’s writing. I was wondering if you’d found a
distributor. I know this is unorthodox—”
“No!” I winced at the sharp, high sound of my voice and softened it before
continuing. “Sorry. You’re fine, Kate. I’m actually trying to work
distribution out. I had plans but they fell through.”
“Oh…well, I…I guess I should say I’m sorry, but that works out
wonderfully for me, because I’d love to talk shop with you. Would you
have time to come by the office tomorrow?”
My jaw hit the floor. Snapping it shut, I squeezed my eyes closed. She was
serious and it sounded too good to be true. “Ah, tomorrow? Of course,
tomorrow sounds wonderful.”
We chatted another couple of minutes, confirmed the time and I went over
details of what I had in mind for Bristol’s book, making notes automatically
because I wouldn’t remember anything once I hung up.
Then, in a daze, I ended the call, staring at my phone for nearly a full
minute while I tried to process what had just happened.
“What the hell?” I whispered. “How…?”
No. It didn’t matter how. All that mattered was that it’d happened.
Excitement smashed into me, breaking my paralysis, and I hurriedly dialed
Amelia’s number.
She answered with a cheerful note. “How’s my new business partner
doing?”
“I’m fine. More than fine, actually,” I said, laughing giddily. “I just had the
most amazing call and I think I’ve got an even better distributor than I
thought I had. You’re never going to believe who I just got off the phone
with.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
 DERRICK

T he door closed shut behind me as I walked into the near - total

darkness of my empty apartment. I didn’t bother turning on any additional
lights. It was almost eight and I didn’t intend to have a long night. Not after
my long day.
In addition to needing to handle the distributor issue for Jessica, there’d
been a mess in the office with the book Jami Gold had been working on and
Martin Danbridge hadn’t been happy to hear that Jami was no longer
employed by Broker Publishing.
Drew had warned me about it, but I hadn’t listened. I’d been so certain that
this one woman couldn’t be important enough to effect a project of that
size. Now, everything was completely fucked.
I’d ended up dumping the whole mess on Drew. He’d balked but I’d told
him that in my current mood, I’d piss the stubborn bastard off enough that
he’d try to pull the book and we’d invested too much money in it to risk
that.
Drew had left, even more furious at me than before, which had done
nothing to improve my mood, and I’d still had work to do.
I’d told Anamaria that unless it was an emergency, I hadn’t wanted to be
disturbed. Then I’d dealt with the fires coming out of Jessica’s former
imprint and focused on working myself into exhaustion.
Now I had a headache and all I wanted was a stiff drink, a hot shower, and
my bed.
When the phone rang, I almost ignored it. It was probably Drew—or worse,
somebody I’d hooked up with before calling for another go. If I picked up, I
might be stupid enough to say yes just to try to get Jessica out of my head.
Honestly, sex with a hot woman who wanted to fuck my brains out should
be exactly what I wanted.
It was the last thing I had any desire to do though.
Knowing there was a slight chance it was someone I actually needed to talk
to, I picked up the phone.
With a sigh of relief, I saw it was probably the only person in the world I’d
want to talk to: my baby sister. It’d be nice to talk to somebody who
wouldn’t nag me or bitch at me about something.
Putting the call on speaker as I answered, I said, “Hey, sweetheart. How are
you?”
“I’m doing okay.” She sighed. “You sound like you’re anything but okay.”
I grimaced. That she’d noticed shouldn’t have surprised me. Amelia was
observant, especially when it came to me, and even I could hear the strain
and exhaustion in my voice. “No, I’m fine. Just had a rough few days.”
“Is it Jessica?”
“No.” It came out harsher than I intended, and I cursed myself silently. I
never spoke to her like that, and she hadn’t done anything to deserve it.
“Sorry, Amelia. But can we not talk about her? I’m done with it. Moving
on.”
“Really.” Her tone said she didn’t believe a word out of my mouth.
I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t so sure I believed it either.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she continued, “because your book distributor
is going to be working with her.”
I paused in the process of pouring myself a glass of scotch. “Say what?”
“You heard me. Kate Jorgen from Rand Distributing gave her a call today.
They’ve got a meeting set up and they’ll be talking contracts tomorrow.
Kate wants to distribute Bristol Hayden’s book.”
“And you know this how?” I resumed pouring my drink. I really needed it
now. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Amelia?”
“I’m financing her publishing company,” Amelia said, her tone flat and
determined.
It took a moment for her words to sink in because they weren’t anything I’d
even come close to expecting from her. Amelia didn’t dislike reading, but
she’d never even hinted that she was interested in publishing, or in being a
part of any sort of business, honestly. Why would she back Jessica
publishing Bristol’s book? I hadn’t even been aware that Amelia knew
about the book.
“You…” I stopped and tossed back half my scotch and closed my eyes.
After a count of five, I asked, “Since when?”
“Since I talked to her a couple days after the wedding.” She blew out a
breath that came through loud and clear. “Look…I like Jess. I’m not
breaking off a friendship with somebody I like just because the two of you
didn’t work out.”
“I didn’t say you had to,” I replied automatically, and I meant it.
But fuck me if I wasn’t feeling something. Hurt? Betrayed? Angry? Jessica
had left me at the altar and Amelia was talking as if this was some break-up
I’d initiated. Like this was my fault.
Then again, Amelia didn’t know the full truth about my relationship with
Jessica. And who knew what Jessica had said when Amelia asked about the
wedding.
I quashed the curiosity that piqued when I thought about whatever
discussion the two of them had had about what had happened that day.
Normally, I would’ve hated not knowing, but a bigger part of me was afraid
of what those two women had said about me. I didn’t know if I could bear it
if the two women I cared about the most thought poorly of me. And despite
everything, I did actually care what Jessica thought of me.
“Derrick…”
The odd note in my sister’s voice dragged my attention out of my head.
Taking another sip of scotch, I asked, “Yeah?”
“She didn’t tell me anything for certain,” Amelia said slowly, “but I think
Jessica stopped the wedding because she cares about you—for real. I don’t
think she wanted to get married, spend a year with you, and then just have
everything just…end. She didn’t want it to be fake.”
I stiffened as I realized what her words meant. “Amelia?”
“I know about the book,” she said quietly. “Jessica told me. Everything
about your little social experiment.”
Tightening my hand on the glass, I waited for the castigations from her, but
they didn’t come.
“She told me about the deal between you two,” Amelia said. “What she got
out of the arrangement. What you took back when she walked out.”
Shit. That’s exactly what I’d been worried about. Just because Amelia said
she’d been told everything didn’t mean Jessica really had explained it all.
For all I knew, Jessica could’ve made me look like the villain rather than
the wronged party.
“And that’s why you’re offering to help her out?” I asked. “Because I was
mean to her and took away things she hadn’t earned?”
“No, asshole.” She sounded amused. “I like her. Plus, I’ve read some of
Bristol’s book. It’s better than that depressing dreck you churn out. And
don’t get me started on that breach of contract bullshit either.”
“Amelia–”
“And stop changing the subject.”
“There is no subject.” I tossed back the rest of the scotch and poured more
despite knowing I would probably regret it in the morning. “Whether
Jessica has feelings for me or not is irrelevant, because it’s over between us.
I don’t give a fuck what she feels or why she did it.”
“Oh, Derrick.” My sister sighed, disappointment clear in her tone. “You’re
not a very good liar, not even when you’re lying to yourself. Maybe you can
make yourself believe your shit, but it won’t work with me.” Before I could
argue with her, tell her that I wasn’t lying, she said, “Listen, I need to go.
I’m working on my business plan for everything with Jessica and I need to
have it roughed out by tomorrow. If you want to talk, though, you know I’m
here.”
“I’m fine.” I barely kept myself from snapping. “Good night.”
Feeling angry and bitter, I ended the call. The alcohol in my stomach soured
as I pushed my glass away. Yeah, sure. Let my sister work on the business
plan to help my former fiancée while I just sat around, drinking and
brooding.
I headed for the shower, hoping the white noise would drown out the chaos
in my head, but even as I stood underneath the hot spray and tried to relax,
Amelia’s words ran circles in my mind.
What if Jessica did care? What if that really had been the reason for her
walking away?
Amelia thought so.
Drew thought so.
The more important question, however, was why the fuck did I care?
I wished I could say that I had no idea, but I did.
And I hated it.
THIRTY-EIGHT
 JESSICA

W ith a signed contract in hand , I walked out of R and D istributing ,

feeling nearly giddy with relief and triumph. I had no idea how this had
happened, but it had happened, and that was the important thing.
Not that it felt anything close to real. I had a feeling that would take a little
more time.
Jumping on the subway to head back across town, I settled on the seat and
started texting, first composing a quick note to both Amelia and Jami, and
then another one to Imani and Bristol. The latter one was brief and
informal, just letting them both know we had a distributor and would be
moving forward with our publishing plan shortly.
Jami replied back with a string of wide-eyed happy emojis and balloons that
made me laugh out loud. When the woman sitting next to me gave me a
sideways look, I apologized but couldn’t stop smiling.
There wasn’t a response from Amelia right away, but I wasn’t expecting
one. In the short time I’d known her, I’d learned that she was a busy
woman, using her influence and money to do good in the community. I
knew she’d get back to me as soon as she had the chance.
When my phone buzzed again, I saw Imani’s name on the screen. Her text
was simple and to the point:
Rand Distributing? That’s excellent news! Thanks for keeping us updated.
Want to give me a call tomorrow and we’ll talk shop?
I sent her back a thumb’s up just as Bristol’s response came in.
That’s fucking amazing!
A moment later, a second message came in, this one a string of red-faced
emojis.
I’m sorry, Jess! I got so excited! I’ll try to keep it more professional but I
feel like spinning around and singing!
Grinning, I sent her back a laughing smiley face and told her not to worry
about it.
I then sent another message to both Imani and Bristol, telling them I’d be in
touch a bit later with more details. Just as I hit send, we reached my stop. It
was one before I normally got off, but I planned on hitting my favorite
liquor store on my way home. I was buying myself a nice bottle of wine to
celebrate, even if I would be alone.
Apparently, Jami had recently started dating somebody and she planned to
spend the night at his place. I knew if I asked, she’d come back for us to
celebrate together, but just because my love life was shit at the moment
didn’t mean I had to ruin hers too. I’d fucked up her life enough as it was.
She deserved to have some fun with a nice guy.
As for me, I was going to take a nice hot bath, enjoy a glass of wine and
read a book.

THE CLUB MUSIC came through discreet speakers into the private room
Derrick had gotten for the night but it barely registered. The anticipation
and anxiety twining in my stomach consumed all of my attention.
Well, not all of it.
A shirtless Derrick in a pair of worn jeans took my mind off everything for
at least two full minutes.
Then I registered the flogger in his hand. Twelve strips of soft leather that
I’d held and touched shortly before Derrick had restrained me on the
strange contraption he’d referred to as a ‘spanking bench.’ I hadn’t been
too certain that I was ready to try it out, but once I’d handled it, I’d agreed.
Now, I was wondering if I’d made a mistake.
The strike on my ass startled me more than hurt and I suddenly realized why
he’d wanted the music on. I hadn’t heard the blow coming.
And I didn’t hear the next one either.
Over and over, the flogger came down on me. One ass cheek and then the
other. The occasional strike on my back. Each one was a lick of pain,
followed by heat, until my skin burned with the painful sort of pleasure that
I’d come to enjoy, if not crave.
Time seemed to slip sideways, and I found myself face down on the bed. I
couldn’t see Derrick, but I could feel his hands sliding up my legs, cupping
my ass. He pulled my cheeks apart and I flushed.
“Hold your ass open for me.”
The order created a strange mixture of embarrassment and a desire to
please him. That was the strangest part of this whole dynamic to me,
wanting his approval, wanting him to be pleased with me.
Then his finger slid into my pussy and that was all that mattered. After just
a couple strokes, that thick digit moved, slick with my arousal, up to the
tight ring of muscle he’d vowed to take tonight.
I whimpered as he worked his finger inside me with a slow, steady push.
We’d done this much before so the burn was minimal. The second finger
stretched me in a way that made me squirm, unsure if what I felt was
enjoyable or not, but I didn’t use my safe word.
I waited instead.
I made a soft sound as he withdrew his fingers and then inhaled sharply
when they were replaced by the blunt head of something larger.
“I’m going to fuck your ass now.” Derrick’s voice was rough.
His warning wasn’t really necessary, but hearing it sent a little thrill
through me. Then he pressed forward, and my focus narrowed to that one
particular spot where his body was trying to invade mine.
He eased into me, every inch stretching me wider around his thick shaft.
Discomfort became pain, but the moment I cried out, Derrick reached
beneath me, and his fingers slid over my clit. The contrasting sensations
had my brain scrambling to figure out what I wanted, but before I could
figure it out, everything had come together to form the most intense thing
I’d ever felt.
“Fuck, Jess, you’re so tight.” Derrick’s fingers dug into my hips, but I could
barely distinguish between that bite of pain and the ache in my ass.
“So full,” I groaned as he bottomed out.
My hands flexed on the bedspread, fingers curling into fists, as my body
struggled to adjust. Then he started to move, a steady rhythm of in and out,
the drag and friction lighting up nerve endings I hadn’t known existed.
Fingers plucked at my nipples, pinched and twisted, reminding me of the
clamps he’d put on me in our last session. The jolts of pain mixed with
everything else, and I found myself heading for the tipping point.
“That’s it,” Derrick said. “Come on my cock, babe. Come with my cock in
your ass. Squeeze my dick–”
I woke with a hard moan, slick and wet between my thighs and aching in
my chest. Heart pounding, I looked around, the dream still vibrant in my
mind. Vibrant because it wasn’t just a dream, rather a combination of
memories of the times Derrick and I had gone back to his BDSM club.
Which meant I knew exactly how everything felt, from the sting of the
flogger to the burn of his cock entering my ass for the first time. And now I
was left with the memories of all of the times I’d come, the ecstasy he’d
made me feel, except without the satisfaction.
It took a moment to realize that I’d fallen asleep on the couch and several
more moments for the hot color to fade from my cheeks. Taking my wine, I
finished it off and put the glass in the sink, then went to bed.
As I cuddled into my cold, empty bed, my pussy throbbed with my
interrupted release. Being with Derrick these last few months had left me
with a libido accustomed to being satiated and now, I was restless,
uncomfortable.
Shit.
Need pulsing inside me, I rolled onto my back and slid my hand under my
pajama pants and between my thighs. I was swollen and hot, my folds wet
and when I stroked my clit, it was so sensitive, it almost hurt.
Moaning, I closed my eyes and tried to immerse myself back in the dream,
in those memories.
Derrick fucking my ass from behind, his hands gripping my hips, hard and
firm. His breathing rough, his thick cock stretching me, and his voice gruff
and low as he moaned my name.
“Fuck.” My back arched.
Stroking my clitoris faster, I imagined it was him. In my mind, he had his
hand in my hair, the other tugging my nipple as he rode me, deep and
rough, palm lifting only to come down and spank me.
He told me that I was his and I almost believed it. I desperately wanted to
believe it was true. That he was mine and I was his. And not just for one
year, but forever.
Tears burned my eyes because dammit, I missed him.
I hadn’t wanted to stop the wedding. I hadn’t wanted to leave him.
“Derrick…” My climax hit me hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
And my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.
THIRTY-NINE
 JESSICA

I f anyone had told me a week ago that I’ d be planning to spend this

Friday night at a club with Amelia, Jami, and Bristol to celebrate a huge
business success, I’d have told them they were nuts. But here I was, dressed
in a sexy little black dress, sitting at a table at my favorite nightclub, with
my three friends, toasting to our new – and better – book distribution deal.
“I have to admit, I’m glad we didn’t end up having to work with Frank
Fellows,” Amelia said after taking another large gulp of her French Martini.
“He’s friends with my father and I’ve always thought he was…well, sleazy.
The kind of guy who’d check out high school cheerleaders and act like it
was no big deal.”
“Yeah, he creeped me out,” I agreed. “I just never thought Rand would want
to work with us.” Realizing how it sounded, I immediately added, “Not
because your book isn’t amazing, Bristol. Just because it was the first book
from an independent publisher who nobody knows.”
Bristol laughed, her cheeks pink with excitement and alcohol. Her green
eyes sparkled as she waved off my concern. “I know what you meant. No
offense taken.”
“I’d still like to know how Kate Jorgen found out I was publishing your
book,” I said, taking a sip of my mojito.
“Me too,” Jami said. “I hadn’t realized word had spread that far and fast in
the publishing world.”
It wasn’t until I turned to Amelia to ask her a question that I realized she
was looking at Jami and I with a strange expression on her face.
“You haven’t figured it out?” Amelia set her glass down. “Jess, you know
which publishers Rand distributes for, right?”
I nodded. “A few of them, why?”
“Including Broker.”
“Yeah?”
She said it like I should know what that meant. Maybe it was the alcohol or
just the result of having an insanely stressful couple of weeks, but I had no
idea what she was trying to insinuate.
“Drew knew about Fellows being your distributor,” Amelia said. “It slipped
out when I was talking to him about how Derrick was doing.”
“You think Drew talked to Kate?” Jami asked. “He was always nicer than
Derrick, but I didn’t think any of us were close to him.” She looked at
Bristol who looked just as clueless as the rest of us.
“It’s possible,” Amelia said. “But I think it’s more likely that she talked to
Derrick.”
I stared at Amelia, finally understanding what she was getting at.
Jami snickered as it clicked for her too. “You think your brother decided to
help the woman who left him at the altar, an ex-employee who he fired –
twice – and an author he didn’t want?”
“I think my brother wouldn’t want any woman to deal with Fellows.”
Amelia’s voice was even despite the spark I saw in her eyes. “Derrick is an
idiot and can be an asshole sometimes, but he’s not a monster.”
Jami held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. I’m not the man’s biggest fan.”
“Considering he fired you twice, I’d be shocked if you had anything
positive to say about him.” Amelia’s tone was dry. “I’m not blind to my
brother’s faults and I definitely don’t blame the people he’s hurt for not
being fond of him.”
Before any of us could get any deeper into that discussion, a pair of
handsome men came over and asked Jami and Amelia if they wanted to
dance. As I watched the four head to the dance floor, I couldn’t help but
consider the conversation we’d just had.
Was it possible that Derrick had something to do with the loss of my first
distributor and me getting an even better one? He had connections to both
Fellows and Rand. And despite the times Derrick demonstrated asshole
characteristics, Amelia was right that he’d never approve of any woman
working with someone as seedy as Frank Fellows, especially when his
sister was involved. Maybe that was the only reason he’d suggested us to
Rand too. He didn’t want his sister to fail.
The problem was, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was all there was to it.
Was it possible that he’d gotten past enough of his anger to want to help
me? Or was he just trying to make amends for pulling Bristol’s book deal
and firing Jami and it had nothing to do with me?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it, and I was in no shape to figure it
out. My feelings for Derrick were still complex and confusing at best.
Tonight wasn’t about that though. Tonight was to celebrate a professional
achievement with my friends.
I drained the last of my drink and turned to Bristol. “Want another one?”
“I’m good,” she said, holding up her mostly full glass. “I’m a bit of a
lightweight so it’s probably best if I just stick with this one.”
“It’s too bad Imani couldn’t join us,” I said.
“Yeah,” Bristol agreed. “Her wife is crazy busy all the time though so
whenever they’re able to plan a vacation, it has to be a matter of life or
death to get one of them to cancel.”
“What does her wife do?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone approaching, but I focused on
Bristol’s answer to my question.
“She’s a surgeon,” Bristol said. Her eyes darted to the side, and she smiled.
“I think someone wants to talk to you.”
I turned to find a tall, lean blond standing at the end of our table. His dark
eyes were warm as he leaned down to speak over the music.
“Dance with me?” He made it a question and held out his hand.
I glanced at Bristol and prepared to turn him down so she wasn’t left here
alone, but she shook her head and made a shooing motion, indicating that
she thought I should go.
She mouthed the words, He’s hot.
She was right. The man was movie-star gorgeous and polite on top of it.
Maybe, I thought suddenly, this was the answer to getting Derrick out of my
head. I wasn’t ready to move on with a relationship or even a date, but I
could dance with an attractive man.
I took his hand and let him lead me onto the dance floor. As we began to
move, he rested his hand on my waist and stepped into my personal space.
He kept enough distance to be respectful, but I could see the heat in his eyes
as he looked at me. All I’d need to do would be to say the word and he’d
take me somewhere private. Judging by the way he moved opposite me, he
could make me feel good too.
But I didn’t think he could make me forget.
Because even as the two of us swayed and gyrated to the beat, all I could
think of was that if I was dancing with Derrick, he’d have my body
plastered to his. I’d feel his cock hard against my stomach. His hands would
slide down my hips and around to my ass, squeezing it. He’d whisper the
filthiest things to me, promises that I knew he could fulfill.
“I’m Paul.” The guy’s voice in my ear startled me and I jerked back.
I gave him an apologetic smile, though it was more for the fact that I’d been
daydreaming about another man while dancing with him than it was for
pulling away. That wasn’t fair to him. Before I could decide whether or not
I wanted to keep dancing, someone said my name.
“Jessica.”
Electricity went through me at the voice I recognized despite all of the other
noise around me, and I froze.
“Jessica?” Paul gave me a confused look.
“I’ll take it from here,” Derrick said, putting his hand on my arm. “Thanks.”
I didn’t look at him as my heart pounded against my rib cage. What was
Derrick doing here? Not once in the time we’d been together had we come
here.
To his credit, Paul didn’t move away just because Derrick said to. Instead,
the blond man asked me, “Are you with him?”
That was a loaded question that I didn’t know how to answer, but I did
know that it wouldn’t be fair to Paul to put him in the middle of things
between Derrick and me, especially since I couldn’t seem to get Derrick out
of my head.
Instead of trying to explain, I smiled at Paul and said, “Thank you for the
dance.”
He looked back and forth between Derrick and me, as if judging whether or
not I was safe, before nodding and heading off through the crowd.
Derrick pulled me around to face him and began to dance. We weren’t as
close as I’d imagined we would be, but there still wasn’t much space
between us. He kept my hand in his as we moved together. The only
indication that he was feeling anything but calm was the way his thumb
made back and forth movements across my skin.
“Did you know I was here?” I asked. “Or are you here with someone?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would I be dancing with you if I was here with
someone else?”
I wished I could say that I believed he wouldn’t do something like that, but
the monogamy clause of our contract no longer applied. He was a man with
certain appetites, and I didn’t know what he’d been doing or with whom
since I’d walked out. And it wasn’t my business anymore.
“Amelia told me a group of you were coming here tonight,” he said when it
became clear I wasn’t going to answer his semi-rhetorical question.
A flare of hope went off inside me, the hope that he’d come to tell me that
he’d made a mistake keeping everything business and sex between us. Hope
that he was going to tell me that he felt the same way about me that I felt
about him.
Because I couldn’t deny it, not with him holding me as we danced. Not with
the way he was looking at me.
I still loved him.
“I wanted to talk to you about something face-to-face,” he continued. “I
think we rushed into getting married. If you’re willing to back up a bit and
date me again, I’ll honor the rental agreement I made with your parents.”
Something inside me shattered and it took everything in me to keep from
showing it on my face.
I was just something else for him to buy.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t trying to give me actual money or that he was
talking about resuming a business agreement I’d already agreed to once. It
was clearer than ever that a relationship with Derrick was just another
business transaction for him.
I didn’t know why I’d expected anything different. It wasn’t as if he’d
hidden any of this from me before. Hell, all anyone had to do to find out his
opinion of women was pick up one of his books. I hadn’t even needed to do
that though. He hadn’t once expressed an interest in me or an attraction to
me before presenting me with his little social experiment proposal.
And he’d made it quite clear that, for him, sex was just physical release.
Thinking we could have something more was all on me, and I couldn’t fault
him for that.
But that didn’t mean I had to accept that arrangement again.
Even though I loved him, I couldn’t be with him under these circumstances.
Or rather it was because I loved him that I couldn’t do it. I refused to put
myself through that heartbreak again. It wouldn’t be fair to me or to
Derrick. I’d rather not have him at all than only have part of him.
All of these thoughts went through my head in a matter of seconds so when
I finally came to my conclusion, Derrick was still patiently watching me,
waiting for my answer.
I took a step back, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Derrick. I can’t.”
And then I fled, praying no one could see the tears streaming down my face
as I went.
FORTY
 DERRICK

W hat the fuck ?

I watched Jessica hurry away from me and couldn’t figure out what had
gone wrong. I hadn’t thought she’d need me to offer everything we’d had in
the original contract. From what my sister had told me, Jessica loved having
her own publishing house and Jami loved working with her. Bristol’s book
would be perfect for them to establish themselves, especially after I’d
gotten Rand to do their distribution.
Shouldn’t saving Jessica’s parents’ store have been enough, especially since
I’d just asked her to date me again, not marry me?
“Looking for a good time?” A short, curvy woman danced up to me,
rubbing her body against mine before I even had a chance to answer.
I gave her a disgusted look before I walked away, cutting through the crowd
with the sort of purpose that had people moving out of my way. Thankful
that I’d driven myself, I went straight to my car and drove back to my
office. Work and a bottle of whiskey sounded like the best way to forget the
last shitty half hour.
The entire drive, angry thoughts buzzed in my head, mixing with the hurt I
felt and the irritation that came from realizing that she’d hurt me. Not
embarrassment at the rejection, but actual hurt cutting deep into me.
I didn’t understand Jessica at all. I’d been straightforward with her when I’d
presented her with my business proposal. I’d never touched her against her
wishes, and I’d always made sure she felt safe and respected when we
fucked. I went out of my way to find a personal apology gift when I’d
screwed up with the wedding preparations and I’d made sure she knew she
could have whatever she wanted for the wedding. And she’d still walked
away. Then, she’d gotten pissed at the consequences for breaking our
contract but refused when I’d tried to fix it with a new offer.
What the hell else could I do?
Security looked up when I walked into the lobby but as soon as they
recognized me, they nodded at me and went back to whatever they’d been
doing. While I was on friendly terms with all of the building’s guards, I
didn’t feel like having a conversation tonight and was grateful I didn’t need
to fake it.
I’d planned to enjoy the peace and quiet of being alone on the floor, but
when I stepped off the elevator, I saw that I wasn’t the only person here.
The light was on in Drew’s office, surprising me. He worked late on
occasion, but generally only if we were on a deadline. Curiosity and a need
for distraction managed to get past my other emotions and, instead of going
straight to my office, I turned the other way.
Stopping in the doorway, I knocked on the open door and Drew looked up
from his desk, evidently as surprised to see me as I was him.
“Derrick, I thought you left for the day.”
“I could say the same to you,” I said as I strolled in, heading right for his
bar. “I wasn’t aware there was anything so urgent that it would require you
being here this late.”
He shrugged. “I’m trying to get ahead on the Danbridge project. We’re
barely hanging on and he’s not happy.”
“You have a team.” I took out a bottle of Drew’s favorite bourbon. “Why
are you the only one here?”
“Because it’s not the team’s fault that the person who knew the most about
all aspects of the project no longer works for Broker Publishing.”
Drew’s voice was even and without judgment, but I felt reproached all the
same. Reproached and rejected all in less than an hour. Perfect.
“You want one?” I asked as I poured myself a glass. Bourbon wasn’t my
favorite type of whisky, but it wasn’t bad in a pinch, especially when it was
good quality like this.
Drew shook his head and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I
know why I’m here this late, but why did you come back?”
Drink in hand, I settled on the chair across from him. “I’ve had a shitty
night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
I hadn’t intended to talk about it, but as soon as Drew asked the question, I
found myself wanting to answer.
“Amelia called me and said that she was at a club with Bristol, Jami…and
Jessica.” I had to take a drink after I said her name. “I’d been thinking a lot
about her and where things went wrong, so it just seemed fortuitous that
Amelia would call just then to tell me where Jessica was.”
“’Fortuitous’?” he echoed my word choice.
“Better than fate or the universe or any of that,” I said. “We both know
that’s just romanticized bullshit.”
“So you went to the club?”
Getting back to my story, I said, “When I got there, I saw her dancing with
some guy–”
“Please tell me this story doesn’t involve a possible arrest for assault,”
Drew interrupted. “Because I can’t give the police a false alibi. I’m too
pretty for prison.”
I glared at him. “I just cut in and the guy left. Jess and I started dancing and
I decided to make her another offer.”
Drew had a pained expression on his face but didn’t say anything.
“I told her that we’d rushed into getting married, and that if she’d date me
again, I’d let her parents’ rental agreement stand.” I threw back the rest of
my drink. “And she was just too fucking stubborn to take it.”
Drew closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “Let me get this
straight. You fired her friend, killed the book deal she was working on, still
kicking her parents out of their bookstore, and essentially fired her too, and
you thought it was a good idea to approach her about making another
business deal? Why didn’t you just start looking for someone else to do
your little experiment?”
“Because I don’t want anybody else!” I snapped at him.
Something that looked a lot like relief passed across Drew’s face. “I’m glad
you finally realized that.” Then he frowned. “Wait, if you actually want to
be with her, why the hell didn’t you just tell her that?”
Surprised that I’d need to explain myself, I said, “She left me at the altar,
proving my point about marriage and relationships being shams.”
“And you thought the best way to respond to that was to bribe her?” Drew
asked. “Or was it more like blackmail?”
“I wasn’t blackmailing her,” I protested. “Or bribing her.”
“So you were just paying her with her parents’ livelihood, then?”
I slumped back in my chair. “No,” I grumbled. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t,” Drew said. “You’re a businessman with an MBA
from Harvard. You offered something she wants in exchange for something
you want. Tell me what that sounds like.”
“You made your point. You don’t need to be an asshole about it,” I
grumbled.
“You’re the only one allowed to be an ass?” he asked.
I pushed to my feet and went back to the bar to pour myself another drink. I
fully expected Drew to say something, but by the time I returned to my seat,
he hadn’t spoken. He was just watching me.
And he kept watching me until I finally snapped, “What?”
“Do you really want to date Jessica?” he asked.
“Yes.” I paused, then added, “What do you think I should do?”
Drew considered me for a moment before answering, “Maybe you should
try something other than treating her like she’s just another business partner
in a negotiation for some commodity.”
The words hit me hard, but I managed to keep my voice light. “I’m open to
suggestions on how to do that, Casanova.”
Drew shook his head and stood. “I think that’s something you’re going to
have to figure out on your own.”
“Thanks, that’s a huge help,” I said dryly.
“You’re writing a book about relationships and marriage, right?” Drew
asked. “Why don’t you use all of the knowledge you’ve gathered for your
book to get what you want?”
He left the light on and the door open as he walked out. I stayed where I
was, my half-empty glass resting on the arm of the chair. I traced my finger
around the rim, absently wondering how much the thick crystal had cost.
Drew and I did enough deals over a glass of bourbon or scotch that we’d
spared no expense for the alcohol or the containers.
And what did it matter if the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have?
I trusted my friend to tell me the truth and not what I wanted to hear, and he
knew I would do the same for him. While I valued that about him, the
words weren’t always easy to hear, and tonight’s had been some of those
difficult ones.
Was he right about some of it? Any of it? Hell, all of it?
When I’d made my proposal to Jessica tonight, I hadn’t done it to pressure
her into anything. I’d seen my offer as no different than the business deal
we’d made before. One thing was exchanged for another. But when Drew
had laid it out there, I’d seen for the first time how it could’ve sounded like
I was blackmailing her or trying to pay for her to date me.
The fact that I now realized that he was right about that meant I needed to
take a closer look at what else he’d said because maybe he understood my
life more than I did.
For the past week, I’d been thinking about my conversation with Amelia.
How she’d suggested that Jessica had called off the wedding because she
cared about me for real. Drew had made that same suggestion and I’d kept
wondering if that was the truth.
It’d been that possibility echoing in my head that had made me respond to
my sister’s information tonight. Those words planted a seed of hope that
had made me think I had to find a way to get Jessica back into my life so
that I could figure out if Amelia and Drew were right.
And I’d gone about it the best way I knew how. I’d tried to broker a deal.
That was the point of my book, wasn’t it? A man had no need for any
romantic entanglements when he could get everything he wanted through
wise business decisions and money. ‘Love’ didn’t exist, and the only
worthwhile relationships were those put down on paper so everything was
in black and white.
Right?
I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. The thing I kept coming back to,
the thing that had me wanting to drain that entire bottle of bourbon and then
going to find more, was that if that wasn’t true, what did it say about my
new book?
What did it say about me?
And what the fuck did it mean for my future?
FORTY-ONE
 JESSICA

A dangerous cold snap had practically shut the city down over
Christmas, and I’d been grateful for it. I’d been working non-stop over the
last couple months getting Bristol’s book ready for a release early next year,
and the weather had been the perfect excuse to give myself a couple days to
rest.
It’d also been a good reason for my parents to close the bookstore early on
Christmas Eve and us to spend the time together as a family. After the year
we’d had, it’d been nice to have a nice, quiet holiday…before the real world
destroyed everything my parents had worked for.
Well, not the real world.
My vindictive fake ex who I hadn’t seen in three months.
I pushed thoughts of Derrick to the back of my mind and double-checked
the inventory of children’s books that hadn’t sold before we’d closed the
doors for the last time last night. Once I verified the title and number, I put
them into the box with the other books and closed it up.
This sucked.
Every inch of this place held parts of my childhood.
I ran my fingers along the smooth wooden shelf, remembering how I’d
helped my parents paint it an eye-catching shade of purple. And then I’d
gotten into trouble for putting purple handprints on the walls. It’d been that
incident that’d inspired my parents to make the children’s section more than
just the shelves where the kids’ books were located. They’d made a huge
day of it, had local children’s authors reading their books, provided snacks
and discounts, and they’d invited the kids to put their handprints on the wall
with mine.
My throat tightened as I reached the end of the shelves and saw the
handprints. Every few years, my parents would host another children’s day
and kids would put their hands on the walls, overlapping the ones that came
before them until every inch in this corner was a riot of color.
Mine always went in the same spot and I put my hand there now. I could
almost smell the paint, feel the wetness of it on my palm. The last time I’d
done it, we’d had seven second-generation readers here to put their marks
next to their parents’ prints.
And in just a few days, they would all be gone. Theirs. Mine. Everyone
who’d left their mark on this place would be erased by some neutral office
color picked by a focus group for its supposed ability to make everyone
cheerful and productive.
This was what Derrick didn’t understand. Even if my parents had been able
to afford a new place, there were things we couldn’t take with us.
“Heartless bastard,” I muttered as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
I turned away from the wall and began to stack the little chairs into a single
tower. I’d suggested that we sell even the furnishings during our ‘location
closing’ sale this past week, but they’d insisted on keeping everything that
they could possibly need to open a new store. It didn’t matter to them that
they hadn’t found a new place or that they’d sunk so much of their savings
into the store over the years that having the capital to re-open somewhere
else was unlikely. They said they were too young to retire, as if that would
be enough to prevent it from happening.
“Put those over by the door,” Dad said as he came up behind me. “They’re
going in the moving van.”
He put his hands on his hips and sighed as he looked around. To an outside
observer, he looked like someone surveying a job to determine if it’d been
done to his satisfaction. I knew, however, that his thoughts were the same
place mine were, grieving over everything we were losing.
“This is all my fault.” I finally spoke the words that had been eating at me
for months.
“No.” Dad turned toward me, his expression fierce. “This is not on you.”
“But I could have saved the store.” Now that the silence had been breached,
words poured out of me in a flood. “I could have fixed everything, and it’d
just been one year of being married to him. Twelve months. And it wasn’t
like marriage would’ve been such a hardship. I’d have lived in a huge
penthouse and had a driver to take me to work. Gone to fabulous events
wearing fashionable clothes and making important connections. He treated
me well.”
“Until you didn’t give him what he wanted,” Dad reminded me gently.
“Then he took back all of those promises without caring who he hurt.”
“He came to see me a couple months ago,” I confessed. “I didn’t tell you
guys because I couldn’t bear the thought of you knowing that I’d had a
second chance to help you guys keep the store and I’d turned him down.”
“What did he want in return?” Dad’s eyes were harder than I’d ever seen
them. “Because that man has proven that he’d never give anyone anything
without expecting something back.”
“He wanted me to date him again,” I said. “That was it. Just date him and
he’d go back to the rental agreement we’d had in our original contract.”
“Men like him…” Dad shook his head. “They think they can buy anything
and anyone. I’m glad you told him no.”
“But I could have stopped this.” I gestured to the empty shelves and packed
boxes. “Maybe I still can.”
Dad grabbed my hands, his gaze locking onto mine. “Don’t even think
about it. That man has caused you enough pain. I will not allow my
daughter to sacrifice her happiness, even for a second, for my sake.”
“Dad…” I sniffled, unable to stop myself.
“No,” he said firmly. “I won’t have it. Your mom and I will be fine. We’ve
lived through worse than this.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I could see on his face that he wouldn’t
budge. I threw my arms around him and let myself cry. Not just for the store
and its loss but for everything I’d thought I could have. For the man I loved
who didn’t love me back.
Maybe this was all for the best. A clean break from everything old and a
fresh start for a new year.

“BE CAREFUL WITH THAT,” I instructed the skinny teen as he moved to

pick up a rather large box. “It’s the glass panels for our display case.”
“I can read,” he muttered as he picked it up. “Not like the word FRAGILE
isn’t written in huge letters.”
I probably could’ve said something to him about being rude, but I just
watched him carry the box out to the truck. He was right. We’d clearly
marked everything and the company we’d hired came highly recommended.
They’d actually taken care of one of the other tenants earlier this week.
None of this was their fault. In fact, I’d heard one of the movers talking to
my father and saying how sorry he was to hear what had happened because
his grandkids loved this store.
Dad had needed to excuse himself for a few minutes after that. I knew that
was what hurt him the most. Not the fact that he was losing something he’d
worked so hard to build. Not that he might end up having to work some
shitty job for the next decade. He’d always genuinely enjoyed helping
people find books, introducing kids to the joys of reading, sharing his love
of stories with everyone who walked through our doors.
Fuck.
Now I needed a moment.
I hurried to the restroom, making the excuse that I wanted to double-check
we’d gotten everything, and then I stayed there until I’d regained control of
myself. I needed to do better. I couldn’t support my parents if I couldn’t
handle my own emotions.
With new resolve, I washed my face, then headed back out, shoulders
squared and chin up, prepared to face the worst with a stiff upper lip.
And then I saw Mom wiping away tears and knew I couldn’t do it. I
couldn’t let this happen if there was anything at all I could do to fix it, no
matter what Dad said. I would beg Derrick if I had to, though, as I reached
the front door, I was more in the mood to threaten than plead.
I charged out of the bookstore, determined to set things right, whether my
parents liked it or not…and skidded to a stop as soon as I stepped foot
outside. My hands automatically went up and a set of strong fingers closed
around my wrists, keeping me from falling. I took a step back and the hands
released me just as I realized I knew the person I’d almost run into.
“Drew, what are you doing here?” I hoped the question didn’t come out as
rude as it sounded in my head.
“Jessica, it’s good to see you.” He gave me a warm smile that faltered when
he saw the moving van behind him. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
“In time for what?” I crossed my arms, bracing myself for whatever new
shit Derrick was going to throw my way.
“To tell you to take everything back into the store.” He held out a manila
envelope.
I stared at it but didn’t take it. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a new rental agreement,” Drew said. “Better than the original, actually.
Everyone’s getting one, but I decided to hand-deliver yours.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“Very.” His grin widened.
The relief and pure happiness that flooded through me was like a rush of
adrenaline and I didn’t know what to do with all that excess energy.
Surprising myself as much as Drew, I threw my arms around him in a hug.
“Thank you!”
He hugged me back, then let me go with a laugh. “You’re very welcome,
but I can’t take the credit.”
“Right, because someone else would do something like this,” I said,
practically jumping for joy.
He held up his hands. “I swear. It wasn’t me.”
I shook my head as I absorbed what he said. “You can’t mean…” I turned
around. “No, it couldn’t have been him.”
Drew took my arm and gave a gentle tug, urging me to face him. “This was
all Derrick.”
I clutched the envelope to my chest, conflicting emotions roiling inside me.
“What…what changed his mind?”
I almost didn’t want to hear the answer because there were only two reasons
I could think of, and I wasn’t sure which was scarier. That he’d forgiven me
and moved on…or that he actually felt something for me.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Drew said. “It’s not like there was some sudden
personality change or anything. Over the last couple months though…” He
shrugged. “He’s different, Jess. I mean, he still works crazy hours, but this
is rarely leaving his office working, not like before. He doesn’t yell at the
staff and rarely goes to meetings anymore. He has me doing that shit half
the time.”
I frowned, caught off-guard by the new information. “Then what’s he
spending all his time doing?”
“Working on his book.”
I flinched. “He’s still writing it?”
“He hasn’t let me see any of it yet, but I have a feeling it’s not going to be
the same book that he set out to write earlier this year.” Drew’s smile
softened. “I think he’s trying to do the right thing.”
With that remark, Drew walked off. I watched him go for a minute, my
head spinning. Derrick was still writing his book, but it wasn’t the same as
he originally planned it to be. And he’d given my parents back their store
without asking for anything from me. Not just my parents either. He was
letting everyone keep their spaces in the building.
“Jessica, hon, are you all right?”
My mom’s voice pulled me back to the moment and what was important.
The papers in my hand.
I spun around and ran back into the store, waving the envelope over my
head. “Wait! Don’t pack anything else!”
“Jess?” Dad came over with concern in his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” I shouted gleefully.
I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, lightening my entire
body until I could fly.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked, confused.
“We don’t have to leave.” I handed the envelope to my father. “Derrick’s
changed his mind and isn’t going to evict anyone. We have a new rental
agreement and so does everyone in the building.”
As my parents read over the paperwork, I went out to tell the movers that
they could bring everything back inside.
Maybe it was going to be a good year after all.
FORTY-TWO
 DERRICK

“M otherfucking piece of shit !”

I continued to curse at my laptop with the most colorful phrases I could

come up with. It wouldn’t help me with my current problem, but venting
made me feel a bit better.
I’d been staring at the screen for the past two hours, unable to write a single
word. I rarely got writer’s block, and it made it even more frustrating that
it’d happened just as I was getting ready to start the final chapter of what I
thought was going to be my best book ever.
After my failed attempt to get Jessica back by offering her parents a rental
agreement, I’d taken a hard look at myself and at everything I believed
about relationships.
And I’d re-written my entire outline.
A knock at my door drew my attention. I’d given everyone the day off,
which made me think I knew who was here.
“Come in,” I called.
“Hey,” Drew said as he came in. “Still stuck?”
I sighed and pushed back from my desk. “Yeah. I can’t figure out how to
end things.”
“Maybe you need a break,” he suggested. “Come to the club with me. We’ll
have a couple drinks, watch a show, maybe find someone to have a little fun
with.”
I shook my head even before he finished asking the question. “No, I want to
keep working on this chapter.”
“You know, it’s been a while since you’ve been there,” Drew said. “Maybe
you should cancel your membership if you’re not going to use it.”
I shot him an annoyed look but didn’t bother responding in any other way.
What was I supposed to do, tell him that the club and the whole BDSM
lifestyle didn’t hold any appeal for me without the only partner I wanted?
Hell, nothing appealed to me without her. I’d admitted to myself that I
wanted Jessica in a way that had nothing to do with my book or sex, but I
wasn’t ready to confess that to Drew.
I did, however, need to know something. “How did things go with Jessica?”
The knowing look Drew gave me made me think I wasn’t keeping my cards
as close as I thought I was.
“She was thrilled,” he said. “Looked at me like I’d just saved Christmas and
New Year’s.”
A stab of jealousy hit me hard enough to make me wince. He was my best
friend, and I knew for a fact that he wasn’t romantically interested in
Jessica, but I still hated the idea of her looking at him that way.
“It was generous of you,” he said. “Though you probably could’ve saved
yourself some trouble if you hadn’t waited until the last minute.”
I shrugged. It’d been a difficult decision to make. I’d never really had to
balance my work life with my personal one and deciding to do something
that wasn’t exactly smart from a business perspective wasn’t easy. I’d kept
hearing my father’s voice in my head telling me how the business was all
that mattered. He wouldn’t care if it was Broker Publishing rather than his
business. In his mind, making money and building an empire always came
first.
“Shoot me a text if you change your mind about the club,” Drew said. “And
don’t work too late.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything as he left. A slow smile curved my lips as I
thought about what he’d said. Jessica had been ‘thrilled’ with my gift.
Maybe I was still focusing too much on material things, but since I wasn’t
sure if she’d ever talk to me again, giving her something important to her
would have to be enough.
I went back over the last chapter I’d written, hoping it would spark
something to help me tie up the book, but no such luck.
When my stomach growled a bit later, I thought Drew might’ve had a good
idea with suggesting I take a break. I didn’t plan on going anywhere though.
Food could come to me, solving two problems with the same solution.
Birds and stones and all that.
I called my favorite Chinese place and placed my usual order. While I
waited, I went over to my bar and pulled out a bottle of whisky. Just as I
went to open it, I paused. Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice
about having a drink at work, much less one with a meal, but part of my
plan to become a better man involved reducing my alcohol intake. I needed
to see what my life looked like without the usual things I used to avoid
dealing with my life.
Half an hour later, I’d written a single sentence ten times and deleted it nine
times. When the phone on my desk rang from the security line, I let the
guys downstairs know that they could send the delivery person up and I’d
meet them at the elevator. I got cash from my wallet and headed for the
elevator, arriving just as the doors opened.
“Jessica.” I froze, unable to believe what I was seeing. “What…?”
She held up a bag and smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. “I
ran into the delivery guy outside and said I’d bring it up.”
I took a step back as she came out of the elevator, my head reeling. I felt
like I’d conjured her by thinking about her, asking Drew about how things
had gone. But if I could’ve made her appear just by thinking, she would’ve
been around a hell of a lot more.
“How much do I owe you?”
I could’ve kicked myself. The first time I’d seen her in months and of all
the things I could’ve said or asked, that was what I came up with?
She made a dismissive gesture. “I took care of it.”
“Thank you.” I took the bags she offered.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, she asked, “We can talk here in the
hall, but we might be more comfortable somewhere with chairs.”
I blinked. “Oh, sorry. Yeah. Come to my office.”
As the two of us walked the short distance to my office, I worked on pulling
myself together. The last thing I’d expected tonight was Jessica to show up
here, even though, if I’d really thought about it, I should’ve seen this as a
possible response to my gesture. Maybe I’d just been too scared to hope and
hadn’t wanted to risk the disappointment.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, that’s okay.” When I moved to lean against the desk in front of her,
she added, “I don’t mind if you pour yourself one though.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been cutting back.”
I caught a flicker of surprise in her eyes before it disappeared behind a
softer, more serious expression.
“I had to come by and thank you in person for what you did,” she said. “It
means more than you can know. Not just to my parents either, but to
everyone in that building. Thank you.”
I shifted, unable to look directly at her in case she could read the emotions
on my face. “It was the right thing to do.”
Her hand on my knee snapped my gaze to hers and I swallowed hard at the
look in her eyes. I knew that look. I’d seen it plenty of times before. I’d just
never realized what it meant because it wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen
before, not directed at me. Women in my past had told me that they loved
me, but it’d been my money or my position that they’d wanted. Jessica just
wanted me, and I hadn’t let myself see it.
“I get it now,” I said quietly. “I’m done trying to buy you.”
“Derrick…”
I held up a hand. “Please, just let me say this.”
“Okay.” Jessica looked like she wasn’t sure where this was going but she let
me continue.
“I had shitty examples of what it meant to love someone, but now I see that
it’s about what’s best for them, not what I want. And what’s best for you is
to have your family taken care of. That’s what matters.”
The stunned look on her face spoke volumes and I realized that my sister
and Drew had been right all along. Jessica had called off our wedding
because she hadn’t just wanted me. She’d been in love with me, but I hadn’t
known yet that I loved her too. Maybe it was too late for us, but that didn’t
mean I couldn’t at least make sure she didn’t hate me.
“I – I…” She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know how to respond to
that.”
“It’s all right.” I smiled and stood up straight. “I don’t expect anything in
return. Thank you for bringing me my meal and for what you said.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “No, Derrick. Thank you.”
A moment passed between us and then she dropped my hand and stepped
away. She said good-night and headed for the door. Near panic flared and I
had the sudden thought that if she walked out now, I might never see her
again.
“What are you doing tomorrow night for New Years Eve?” I blurted. When
she stopped at the door and looked back at me, I swallowed hard.
“Why? You don’t already have a date?”
She said the question nonchalantly, but something in her eyes told me she
was asking more than about tomorrow night.
“I haven’t had a date in a while,” I said honestly. “Not since summer,
actually.”
“Why’s that?” Her voice quavered ever so slightly.
My gaze locked with hers. “The only woman I want to date hasn’t talked to
me in a while because I was an ass.”
A hint of a smile curved her lips. “Maybe if you play your cards right,
she’ll–.”
“Agree to be my New Year’s Eve date at the Governor’s Ball?” I dared to
ask.
After a moment, she said quietly, “I think she might.”
My heart gave an unsteady thump.
“I’ll see you.” She smiled as she turned away again.
I watched her walk out and wondered how in the world things had changed
so fast in such a short amount of time. Only a couple hours ago, I thought
I’d done something nice for the woman I’d realized I loved but wouldn’t
ever be with. Now, I’d confessed my feelings, had her thank me for what I
did, and might be able to kiss her when the ball dropped tomorrow.
I arranged my food without really thinking about it, then settled back in my
chair. I’d only taken two bites when I realized exactly how my book needed
to end.
FORTY-THREE
 JESSICA

I usually spent N ew Y ear ’ s E ve with J ami and I had intended to do

the same this year until I’d gone to see Derrick. The things he’d said had hit
me hard and by the time I’d gotten back home, I knew that I wanted to see
him again. I needed to know if we could move past what had happened…or
if we both needed to move on from each other.
I took a deep breath and smoothed down my dress over my hips. The Louis
Vuitton gown was more expensive than any dress I’d ever worn – except
my wedding dress – and it was absolutely gorgeous. It wasn’t technically
mine. When I decided to go to the ball tonight, I knew I needed a dress and
there was only one person who could help me find something appropriate.
Amelia had come through in a way I hadn’t expected. She’d immediately
come to my apartment with a garment bag, shoved it at me, and told me to
go try it on. She was only an inch or so taller than me and we had similar
enough builds that she’d brought a dress she’d purchased a couple weeks
ago but hadn’t yet worn.
Now, I wore a deep, forest green strapless dress with a plunging neckline
and a tasteful slit up the side. Jami had done my hair in a twist that looked
more complicated than it really was, an updo that left a few curls free to
frame my face and brush against my shoulders. She’d also taken charge of
my make-up, her wordless way of expressing her acceptance of my decision
to see Derrick. She was still skeptical, but Amelia’s belief that Derrick had
changed, as well as Derrick’s decision about my parents’ building were
enough for Jami to at least give him a chance.
Now, as Amelia and I got into her car, I realized I didn’t know where we
were going. Before I could open my mouth to ask, she leaned forward and
said to the driver, “The Plaza, please.”
I leaned back in the street, the nerves in my stomach going from
anticipation and anxiety to just the latter. I’d avoided the Plaza at all costs
since I’d walked out months ago, and now I understood why she hadn’t told
me before where the ball was being held.
I really didn’t want to go back there, and I was honestly surprised that
Derrick was okay with it.
“It’ll be fine,” Amelia said, taking my hand. “It’ll be decorated so
differently that it won’t even look like the same place. And it might not
even be in the same room.”
I squeezed her hand and forced a smile. “I hope you’re right, because I was
hoping for a new start, not a repeat of the worst day of my life.”
“Just focus on the fact that Derrick wants you to be there,” Amelia said.
“The place doesn’t matter, just the person.”
The place doesn’t matter, just the person.
I held on to those words as the driver made his way through the New Year’s
Eve traffic and eventually pulled up in front of the Plaza.
And my date was waiting outside.
Amelia let out a low whistle and then chuckled. “I haven’t seen Derrick
look this put together in months.”
“Months?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the handsome man walking toward
the limo.
“He hasn’t been the same since…” Amelia let her voice trail off. Just as
Derrick reached for the door, however, she added softly, “You made him
better, Jessica. Happier. And I think you can do it again.”
Then the door opened, and Derrick was there with his hand extended.
Smiling up at him, I slipped my hand into his and let him help me from the
vehicle. We’d just stepped away when the door closed behind me, and the
car pulled away.
“Isn’t Amelia coming tonight?” I asked, glancing behind me.
“She’s never much enjoyed these sorts of events,” Derrick said as he laced
his fingers between mine. “The political ones, anyway. She’s going to one
for some arts foundation she supports.”
“She didn’t say anything,” I said.
Damn, this was awkward.
Derrick glanced at me, something very much like vulnerability in his eyes.
“You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I smiled and squeezed his hand. “So do you.”
We headed inside and I felt my body starting to tense, but Amelia had been
right that different decorations were up. Then, instead of going to the
Terrace Room, we made our way into the Palm Court. Being in a different
room gave me a little more relief, but I still felt like I was walking on
eggshells.
“Relax.” Derrick squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be a good night.”
“Derrick! How’re you, ‘m boy?” An older gentleman clapped Derrick on
the shoulder.
“I’m well,” he said with a smile. “How are you, Mr. Deputy Mayor?”
“Better now that the cold’s moved on,” the deputy mayor said. “You can
take the boy outta Texas, but you can’t take Texas outta the boy, even after a
couple decades.” He turned to me. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”
“Mr. Deputy Mayor, I’d like you to meet Jessica Ellis.” Derrick pulled me
close to his side, his arm sliding around my waist in a gesture that felt
surprisingly normal considering how long it’d been since we’d been
together.
“Ms. Ellis.” The deputy mayor took my hand and kissed my knuckles, a
speculative look in his eyes. “It’s a pleasure. Are the two of you–”
“She’s spoken for,” Derrick interrupted. His words were polite but there
was no mistaking the possessiveness in his touch, in his voice.
“I see she is,” the other man released my hand and gave me a warm smile.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see some people I need to speak with. You two
have a good night.”
“He seems nice,” I said as I watched the man walk away.
“He is,” Derrick said. He tightened his arm around me and kissed the top of
my head. “Come on, there are more people I’d like to introduce you to.”
Some of them had been at Amelia’s birthday party and I greeted them by
name, while others were completely strangers. Despite the fact that I clearly
didn’t move in the same social circles as the rest of the attendees, everyone
was lovely. By the time an hour had passed, I’d found myself relaxing. Part
of it had to do with the glass and a half of champagne, but the majority of it
was the man who hadn’t left my side once.
Amelia and Drew were both right. Derrick was different. As he talked with
the people around us and made introductions, even as he drank and listened,
I saw he wasn’t the same. He still had that confidence – I didn’t think
anything could take that from him – but the smugness that had been a part
of his attitude for as long as I’d known him was absent.
He was the perfect gentleman too, but that didn’t surprise me. He might’ve
gotten rough in the bedroom, but he’d always made sure I was okay with
whatever we were doing.
Now, with things between us being so strange, he was being extra careful.
He couldn’t seem to not touch me, but he kept his hands in appropriate
places. My waist, my hand, my shoulder. And each place burned with the
sort of warmth that spread through every cell, heat that pooled between my
legs.
It was the most platonic date that the two of us had ever been on and I’d
still never been more turned on in my life.
It didn’t help that he’d never looked hotter. His suit was impeccably cut, of
course, and I could feel the corded muscle of his forearm beneath his jacket
and shirt. His scruff was a bit thicker than usual and his hair was not quite
as neat and stylized. He seemed more at ease with himself, with everything.
But I could still sense that beneath all of that was a man who could turn me
inside-out with a look and turn me on with a touch.
“Hmm?” I looked up at Derrick, flushing as I realized I hadn’t heard a word
he’d said.
“I asked if you’d like to dance,” he chuckled, his expression more open than
I’d ever seen it.
“I’d love to,” I said.
As he led me onto the dance floor, I couldn’t help remembering the last
dance we’d shared. Judging by the look on his face as he took me in his
arms, the same thought had crossed his mind.
“I promise not to make an ass of myself this time,” he said softly. “I’ve
learned from my mistakes.”
“I have too,” I said. After a brief pause, I added, “I should’ve talked to you
before the wedding. I’m sorry that I didn’t.”
“I didn’t exactly make it easy,” he replied.
I shrugged. “Still, I should’ve at least tried.”
He tugged me a little closer. Nothing inappropriate, but definitely more
intimate than we’d been before.
“You’ve got my undivided attention right now,” he said, “if there’s anything
else you’d like to say.”
The tension in his body was minute. If I hadn’t known every inch of that
magnificent physique, I might not have even felt it. I understood the reason
for it. He’d laid a lot out on the line yesterday when we’d spoken, and I
hadn’t been able to respond then. Instinct told me that I needed to talk now,
or I risked losing him for good, and that wasn’t something I could live with.
“When we first agreed to do this, I could barely stand you.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up and he raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just being honest,” I said.
He chuckled. “I know. I didn’t exactly make a great first impression.”
“But after I got to know you, that changed.” I brushed my fingers along his
jawline, loving the rough feel of the bristles there. “I saw a side of you that
I’d never known about before and I did the last thing I thought I would do. I
fell for you.”
“And that’s why you walked out at the wedding,” he said quietly. “Because
you cared too much.”
“I couldn’t have a fake marriage when I was really in love, and it was only
one-sided.” I gave him a small smile. “No matter how hot the sex was.”
“Amelia and Drew are never going to let me live it down that they were
right,” Derrick said with an amused sigh.
“Amelia and Drew?”
“They suspected why you left,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”
“You know,” I said slowly, “It’s almost midnight.”
“It is.”
“I have a proposal. An agreement, if you will.”
“I’m listening.”
“Let’s start over. New year, new us.” I leaned into him. “Complete honesty
from here on out.”
“A clean slate,” he said as his arms tightened around me.
“A clean slate,” I agreed.
“I would love that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And in the interest of
starting us off honestly, I love you.”
The air around us filled with voices as people began to count down, but I
only had eyes for the man in front of me.
“I love you, too.”
The countdown hit zero and Derrick’s mouth collided with mine. Fire
ignited in my veins, roaring through me as my lips moved against his.
When his tongue swept into my mouth, I moaned.
Emotions threatened to overwhelm me even as much as the sensations. I
never thought I’d feel like this again, especially not with this man.
When he started to pull away, I made a sound of protest, chasing his mouth.
“Not here,” Derrick said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Getting
arrested for public indecency isn’t one of my kinks.”
I opened my eyes to find him smiling at me.
“We can stay…or we can go someplace where we can have a little more
privacy.”
“Take me home,” I said without an ounce of hesitation. “Home with you.”
He brushed his lips across mine. “Gladly.”
FORTY-FOUR
 DERRICK

I knelt on my bed and looked down at the woman sprawled on my

bedspread. Clad only in a tiny pair of green panties, Jessica’s hair was
down, her curls fanned out behind her, her eyes sparkling up at me. Her
breasts were bare and just as beautiful as I remembered. More, actually. My
memory hadn’t done her body any justice.
My hands moved over her, languidly reacquainting myself with the once-
familiar canvas. Her skin was smooth under my palms as I skimmed her
thighs and up her ribcage. While I continued my exploration, her fingertips
traced patterns on my arms, as if she’d craved for my touch as much as I
had hers.
“I missed this,” I said softly. “Being able to touch you.”
“I dreamed about it,” she confessed. “There were mornings I woke up still
feeling like your hands were on me, my entire body aching for you.”
Unable to resist for a moment longer, I took her mouth in a sweet kiss, even
as I cupped her breasts. The weight of them thrilled me and I felt a rush of
arousal as her nipples pebbled against my hands. My lips moved from hers
to kiss along her jaw and find that spot behind her ear that made her shiver.
Tracing a path down her neck with my tongue, I plucked at her nipples until
they were a pretty shade of deep pink, and only then did I finally cover one
with my mouth.
“Yes,” she hissed, her back arching.
I flicked my tongue back and forth across the sensitive skin, savoring the
taste of her, the sounds she made. Whether I was simply looking at them,
whipping them rosy, or using clamps on her nipples, she had fantastic tits.
Fun to play with and deserving of all the worship I could lavish on them.
When she started to squirm, I threw my leg over her hips, keeping her in
place. My cock, which had been throbbing since we’d kissed on the dance
floor, rubbed against her thigh, creating the most exquisite sort of torture.
Every suck of my mouth had her moaning my name and I reveled in the
way this woman let herself go with me. I teased her with my teeth, smiling
at the gasps each time I nibbled at her flesh.
“Derrick.” She buried her fingers in my hair, pushing at my head. “Please.”
I raised my head, letting her swollen nipple fall from my mouth with a wet
sound. “Please, what? Tell me what you want, Jess.”
“Your mouth.” Her hungry gaze dropped to my lips. “I need your mouth on
me.”
I nipped at the side of her breast. “My mouth was already on you.”
She made a face at me. “Not where I want it.”
I grinned at her, enjoying the banter. “And where is that?”
She glared at me. “My pussy. I want your mouth between my legs, your
tongue in my pussy, getting me off. Is that specific enough for you?”
Laughing, I shifted over to lay between her legs. I pulled aside the damp
lace and licked her slit from core to clit before I buried my tongue between
her folds. With fingers and tongue, I worked her to the edge…and then
pulled away. Smiling at her curses, I waited until I knew she’d eased back
and then started again. After doing the same thing for a third time, she
twisted her fingers in my hair and yanked hard enough to make me look up.
“Derrick.” Her voice held a warning.
“I want you to come this time,” I ordered. “Come all over my face and then
I’m going to make love to you until you come on my cock too.”
The heat in her eyes flared even hotter. I loved the way she responded to my
commands. We’d get back to the club and the playroom, but tonight wasn’t
about any of that. Tonight was about me making sure she felt cherished…
and loved.
I lowered my head again and didn’t hold back this time. In barely a minute,
I had her crying out her pleasure, her thighs clamped on either side of my
head, fingers pulling my hair until my eyes watered. I did everything I
could to prolong her orgasm, stopping only when her body finally went
limp.
The condom was on by the time her eyes fluttered open and then I was
leaning over her, the tip of my cock at her entrance. She whimpered as I
rubbed the head of my dick against her swollen clit. She grabbed at my
arms and I hissed as her nails dug into my biceps, the little jolts of pain
making my cock jump.
“Need you.” Her voice was rough.
I lowered my head, capturing her mouth in a brief, but scorching kiss. “You
have me.”
I kept my eyes locked with hers as I slid home in one smooth stroke. She
caught her breath as her body stretched to accommodate me and I fought
with my body’s urge to pound into her without any finesse. Once I’d
regained control of myself, I eased back, letting Jessica feel every inch of
me. When only the end of me remained, I snapped my hips forward and
drove into her.
“Fuck!” she cried out, her head tipping back.
I set a slow pace, taking each thrust as deep as I could, needing to be as
close as physically possible to her. I’d never understood that whole ‘two
become one’ thing. No matter how physically intimate I’d gotten with a
woman, I’d never felt like we were one person.
Not until now.
Jessica and I fit together in a way that made me feel like I’d only been half
a person until we’d come together, and I hadn’t even known it.
I suddenly sat back on my knees and pulled her up with me. The new
position changed the way our bodies interlocked and we rocked against
each other with a growing urgency. I rested my forehead against hers, our
breath mingling between us. Her arms around my neck, her fingers twisted
in the hair at the nape of my neck and her nipples rubbed against my chest,
two little bullet points. As the pressure built inside me, one of my hands
tightened its grip on her hip while the other dropped to the juncture where
our bodies connected. Brushing my thumb across her clit, I barely made
contact before she came.
The moment her pussy clamped down on me, I was gone. I bit her shoulder
as she pressed her face to the side of my neck, her entire body shaking with
the force of her orgasm. We clung to each other as we rode waves of
ecstasy, but it was more than simple pleasure between us. I could feel it.
Whatever it was that we’d started when she’d accepted my request for a
date tonight, we’d just confirmed it here and now.
I didn’t have a name for what we were at the moment, but one thing I knew
with absolute certainty.
I was hers and she was mine.
EPILOGUE
 JESSICA

SIX MONTHS LATER

I t was a beautiful day for a wedding in M anhattan . T here wasn ’ t a

cloud in the sky and the temperature was perfect as I stood with my father
just outside the entrance to the new venue Derrick and I had chosen
together. We’d chosen everything together. Well, everything except my
dress. That was all me and I absolutely loved it.
The Lighthouse was an absolutely beautiful space, with glass walls and
strings of lights woven into designs on the ceiling, but for me, the most
important thing was that all of the people Derrick and I loved were here,
and this time, they were supporting something real.
“Ready?” Jami asked as she adjusted my dress.
It hugged my body in such a way that I doubted it needed much adjustment,
but I let her fuss over it anyway.
“Thank you for agreeing to be my maid of honor this time.”
She smiled at me without a hint of insincerity. “What can I say? He won me
over.”
“You’re just saying that because he got you front row tickets to Hamilton,”
I said.
“It didn’t hurt.” She grinned.
“Ladies, they’re starting,” Amelia called over her shoulder.
She’d completely understood that I’d wanted Jami as my maid of honor and
had been surprised when I’d said that I wanted her in the bridal party too.
Derrick had complained about having to call one of his old college buddies
to be his second groomsman, but it’d all been good-natured.
He truly was a changed man.
As Jami began her walk down the aisle, Dad held out his arm and I took it.
“In case I don’t say it enough,” he said, “I’m proud of you and I love you.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know and thank you. I love you too.”
Then it was our turn. I immediately felt everyone’s eyes on me and knew it
wasn’t to admire my sweetheart neckline or the classic silhouette of my
gown. I knew many of them were just waiting for me to do something
crazy. I wasn’t nervous about marrying Derrick, but I couldn’t deny the
knots in my stomach when it came to our audience. Then I looked up the
aisle and met Derrick’s gaze, and everything else just faded away.
Before I realized it, Derrick was taking my hands and we’d reached a
familiar part of the ceremony. I could feel the tension in Derrick as the
minister asked if I would take this man to be my lawfully-wedded husband,
and it seemed like the entire place held their breath.
“I do.” I smiled at Derrick.
His entire face lit up at my words and I knew that, even though he’d said
more than once that he knew I loved him, he’d been worried about today.
But now our rings were on, and he was being told that he could kiss his
bride, and none of that mattered.
“I love you,” he murmured just before his lips met mine.
I felt the kiss all the way down to my toes even though he kept it
appropriate for the public. Maybe it was because I loved him that I felt it so
deeply, or maybe it was because I was kissing my husband. It didn’t matter
though. All that mattered was that we were now turning toward our guests
and being announced as Mr. and Mrs. Derrick Thomas.
THE EVENING HAD TAKEN on a bit of a surreal feel by the time we
were done eating.
The reception was in the same space as the wedding and the staff did an
amazing job of changing things around in a matter of minutes. I made a
mental note to commend them for a job well done, but I knew it’d have to
be done at a later date because Derrick and I were now going around to
each table to talk to our guests.
And it wasn’t just our relationship we were talking about either. Our dating,
engagement, and marriage weren’t all that had been going on in our lives
over the last six months.
Derrick’s new book had been released three months ago and had been a
huge hit. He and Drew had both been surprised since it’d been so different
from anything else Derrick had written. And it definitely wasn’t anything
like what Derrick had originally intended to write. After all, his conclusion
had been that the right relationship was worth fighting for, regardless of
what it did to a man’s business.
His wasn’t the only best seller either. Bristol’s book had gone to press not
long after the new year began and had immediately shot to number one on
the New York Times bestseller list. And she wouldn’t be a one-hit wonder
either. She was halfway done with a second book and had expressed some
interest in perhaps trying a different genre for book number three.
Whenever she was asked if she’d be moving to a bigger publisher, she
always had the same answer: hell no.
Thanks to her success and ringing endorsement, Jami and I had been
flooded with calls and submissions, both from agents and unrepresented
writers. We’d actually hired a third person just two weeks ago so that Jami
wouldn’t have to handle it all on her own while I was gone on my
honeymoon. We’d agreed that we’d probably need the extra help even after
I returned, if the still steady volume of submissions was any indication.
My parents, of course, had ordered numerous copies of both books and had
signings for both Derrick and Bristol. I’d actually been surprised when
Derrick had agreed to it since he hadn’t done signings for any of the other
ones, but he’d said that it was the least he could do for all he’d put my
parents through. The attention had helped things pick up enough that the
store was back to making a decent profit.
They hadn’t understood why I hadn’t gone back to working at Broker, but
Derrick and I had decided that it was healthier for our relationship for us to
not work together. We did talk business sometimes, but we made a point to
never let it be about anything that could come between us. We also
occasionally took each other lunch at the office, but that was usually just an
excuse to have a risky quickie.
Our sex life was fantastic, and I’d gotten my own membership at Derrick’s
BDSM club so I was no longer just listed as his ‘guest.’ There and home –
and wherever else we decided to play – he’d taken me places I’d never
imagined, and I had no doubt that he’d continue to surprise me for the rest
of our lives.
“What do you say, Mrs. Thomas,” Derrick’s voice cut into my thoughts,
“one last dance before we say our good-byes?”
“I’d love that, Mr. Thomas.” I smiled at him as he whirled me onto the
dance floor.
He pulled me close to him and I gave a contented sigh as I rested my cheek
on his chest. I’d had a good life, but I could honestly say that I’d never been
this happy before. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have believed that I’d ever be
happy at all again. Now, I was married to the man I loved, and we were
going to have a wonderful life.
“A thousand for your thoughts.”
I laughed, pulling back just enough to see his face. “That’s quite the bump
up from a penny.”
“Your thoughts are worth a lot more than a penny,” he said with a grin.
“I was just thinking about the future,” I said.
“Oh really? Anything in particular?”
I shook my head. “Just that it’s going to be great.” I tilted my head,
suddenly curious. “Why? Are you thinking something specific about the
future?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Do I have to offer a thousand for your thoughts?”
He chuckled and spun me around. “I was just thinking that maybe while
we’re on our honeymoon, we can talk about when we want to start trying
for a family.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’re ready to have the baby talk?”
One of his hands slid down to my ass and he gave it a squeeze before
returning his hand to a more family-friendly spot on my back. “The thought
of you carrying my baby is a bigger turn-on than I thought it’d be.”
“Is that so?”
He rocked his hips, and I felt his erection pressing into my stomach. “What
do you think?”
“I think we should spend at least the first half of our honeymoon
practicing,” I said.
He gave me a mock offended look. “You think we need practice?”
I grinned at him. “Oh, definitely.” I lowered my voice. “I mean, there’s so
many different positions to work through. Who knows which one will be
the most productive?”
“And here I was thinking I’d just tie you to the bed and fuck you until
neither one of us can walk.”
Arousal shot through me, sharp and bright. “Want to know what I’m
thinking now?”
“Of course.”
“I’m thinking I’m going to slip off my panties in the limo so when we get to
the plane, we can fuck all the way to Paris.”
Derrick’s eyes went dark. “Make your good-byes quick or we’ll be giving
our driver a show on the way to the airport.”
With a laugh, I stepped back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”
And just like that, we were on our way.

Turn the page for a free preview of Serving the Maestro.

SERVING THE MAESTRO
PREVIEW
ONE
TRENT
 PRESENT DAY

“Y ou know , if you ’ re really hurting for money , you could ask

your dad.”
Narrowing my eyes at Stephen, my manager, I bit back a pithy retort as the
server put our drinks in front of us. “I prefer to work for my money, not ask
for a handout from the asshole who knocked up my mom—and half a dozen
other women.”
“Ouch.” Stephen winced at my sharp tone. “You’re in a shitty mood, aren’t
you?”
“I wonder why.” Taking the glass of Kentucky rye bourbon, I sipped and
stared off into nothing while I brooded over the way the past year had
unfolded.
My last big project tanked. Usually, something like that wasn’t a huge blow,
but not only had I written all the music, I’d also been an investor in the
film.
But my bad luck hadn’t ended there.
I’d been in a car wreck—nothing major—but I was the one at fault. Which
just fucked up things more because my license and registration were
expired. I’d been so engrossed in writing the musical score for the last
project I’d forgotten annoying stuff like paying bills.
The insurance company refused to pay, and I’d had to cough up money to
pay for the car repairs for the other driver. They’d been steep, too. Steep
enough that I still hadn’t bought a new car to replace the one I’d totaled.
I needed another project. Soon. Eying Stephen across the table, I swirled
my bourbon and wished he didn’t have such a good poker face.
“So, are we here to chat, or do you have a line on a project for me?”
“You’re no fun when you’re broke, my friend,” Stephen smirked. “There’s
no catching up. No asking how I’ve been. Just jump right to business.”
“I talk to you almost every damn day,” I pointed out. “What do we need to
catch up on? Unless you met the love of your life while picking up your dry
cleaning or parking that ugly-ass car of yours, I already know what’s going
on with you. And you know what’s going on with me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sipped the bourbon and grimaced. “Why’d I let you talk
me into this? I hate this rye shit. Anyway, you’re being a bitch because
you’re broke, and you can’t get a new car until you pick up a new project.”
He cocked a brow. “I told you not to back that Steinert deal. Didn’t I tell
you?”
“Contrary to what you think, I told you so isn’t a good look for you. Or
anybody.” I grinned as he took another sip of the rye, mouth tightening in
distaste. He had no appreciation for the finer things in life. Served him
right, too, for being an asshole.
“Wipe that smug look off your face, pal, or I won’t tell you about the
possible gig I’ve got for you.” He put the nearly empty glass on the table
and flagged our server. After ordering a Jameson whiskey, he pulled out his
phone, tapped on the screen, and studied it for a few seconds.
“What gig?” I demanded, glaring at his lowered head.
“Gimme a minute.” He kept reading another ten seconds, then put the
phone away. As he leaned back in his chair, he said, “You aren’t going to
like it, man, but it pays well, and there are some sweet side perks. I almost
wish I could bang out a song myself.”
Too used to him by now, I ignored the comment about banging out songs
and focused on the critical part—pays well.
“Tell me.”
When he explained the initial specifics, I almost said no, right off the bat—I
bit my tongue because I couldn’t afford to say no if it paid anything decent.
But then he started detailing the perks.
“They’ll set you up in a corporate apartment near Central Park, with two-
thousand dollars weekly for meals, entertainment, expenses, whatever you
want. It gets direct deposited into your account, and you can do whatever
the hell you want with it.” Stephen grinned as my brows shot up. “Yeah,
man. Room and board and I haven’t even discussed the fee yet.”
“So get to it.” Even with a corporate apartment near Central Park and the
weekly funds, I wasn’t sold on the idea. Transcribing a recent Broadway
musical into a piano score? I wasn’t sure about this.
Before the epic failure, the last project I’d done had received Oscar
nominations. One bad turn of events, and I was doomed to transcribe
someone else’s songs?
Well...beggars couldn’t be choosers and all the shit.
“What’s the transcription fee?” I asked, cutting Stephen off as he started
waxing on about the musical’s director and the composer of the original
score—the composer was a fan of my music. They both wanted to be
involved in the process if I took the job. That was another reason to say no.
“Thirty grand.” Stephen gave me a smug smile. “And because I’m just that
good, that’s your cut. I talked them up a little.” He named a slightly larger
figure. “That’s the total offer, but I get my usual percentage, leaving you
with thirty large. And I’m not expecting a cut from the weekly living
expenses.”
“How considerate.” I flipped him off while mentally running some figures
in my head. Two grand a week—I could live pretty well in New York City
on that and still save money, especially since I didn’t have to pay rent.
“Where would I be working?”
“That’s up for discussion.” Stephen smiled. “Did I mention the composer’s
a fan? They really want you for this job. They’ve also promised to fly you
to NYC first-class and when the job is done, give you the same treatment on
the return flight.”
I’d grown up with a single mom who’d barely scraped by above the poverty
line. I had more than a little disgust for the sperm donor who helped
conceive me—a rich son of a bitch with more money than sense—more
children, too. I shouldn’t so easily be swayed by the nice, but unnecessary
perks Stephen detailed.
But I was.
“Alright.” Nodding, I said, “Set it up.”
“Excellent.” Stephen grinned and clapped his hands together, his eyes sharp
and bright, a look I often saw when he was about to close a deal. “I knew
you’d see the light on this one.”
TWO
 JAZZ

“T o C am , the best friend and business partner a girl can have !”

Numerous other voices rose in chorus as I lifted my drink and let it clink
against the salted rim of my best friend’s virgin Margarita.
She leaned back, her face glowing. The glow had nothing to do with the
drink, or even the surprise birthday party she’d somehow put together at our
office.
Cam Hollander, my best friend, was five months pregnant, and she had the
stereotypical ‘glow.’
She was sailing through pregnancy, her happiness practically contagious.
I was glad we’d been able to upgrade our office to a larger space a few
years ago. The sound of somebody puking was usually enough to make me
do the same, but in the new location each of us had a bathroom.
That made me sound awful. But Cam had laughed when I told her. It’s okay,
honey. I wouldn’t sit around and listen to me puke either, but I don’t have
much choice.
Then she hugged me. But when you get hitched and end up in my condition,
I’ll be there and hold your hand or your hair while you’re puking. I’ve got a
stronger stomach than you.
She would, too. I hated that I couldn’t look at her without hurting.
I loved Cam dearly. She was the best friend I had, my only “family” since
my mom had died a couple of years earlier. Before the accident that killed
my mom, I’d been even closer to Cam.
That only made me feel worse about the envy I felt looking at her. Today
was my thirty-fifth birthday, and the clock was running out fast for me. But
maybe a baby wasn’t in the cards for me. A relationship certainly wasn't on
the horizon, which was okay. I actually enjoyed being single and
independent.
Forcing a light note into my voice, I said, “There’s nobody pounding down
the door to be Mr. Moors, Cam.” Giving her fiancé a teasing look, I winked.
“I think you grabbed the last good man in New York City.”
Danny Padua, her fiancé, said. “Hey, I do have a younger brother, Jazz.”
He delivered that remark while I took a sip of wine, and I almost choked.
Once I managed to clear the tears from my eyes and the wine from my
windpipe, I shot him a dark look. “That’s not funny.”
“Hey, he’s a good kid! And in five years, he’ll be done with medical
school.”
“Ha, ha.” I knew Danny’s brother. He was a nice kid—emphasis on the kid.
Definitely not what I was looking for. I wasn’t going to discuss that I didn’t
know what I was looking for—or even if I wanted to look for anything.
The whole relationship thing was a mystery to me.
Rubbing my still tight chest, I accepted a glass of water from the server.
When the conversation around us picked up, I was grateful for it. Cam got
up from her place by Danny and came to my side of the table. After moving
several gift bags, cards, and boxes out of the way, she took the empty seat
and perched next to me.
With big, bright green eyes, she studied me.
“You’re never going to find it if you refuse to look, honey. You know that.”
Resisting the urge to squirm, I caught Cam’s hand and squeezed. Being
honest, I said, “I don’t know if I even want to look for it, Cam. Really.”
It was the whole kit and caboodle—what Cam had managed to find, the
guy, the happy ending...the baby. But Cam knew me too well not to
recognize what she saw in my gaze from time to time.
“So, you’re not feeling that baby fever every time you see me rubbing my
belly or hear me talk about how to decorate the nursery?” she asked with
wide-eyed innocence.
“I might be having baby fever, but that’s about it.” Giving Danny a rueful
smile, I added, “As cute as your soon-to-be brother-in-law is, Cam, I’m not
interested in dating a guy more than a decade my junior and lately...” I
struggled to articulate my lack of interest in any of the guys I’d dated over
the past few years. “There’s just nobody catching my interest.”
I was either hooking up with jerks, jokers, or jackasses, and that’d been the
case non-stop since things had ended with my last semi-serious boyfriend.
That had been shortly after my thirtieth birthday.
I was thirty-five now, and if it weren’t for the fact that I had baby fever, I’d
be pretty content with my life.
“Maybe that’s because you’re not willing to trust a guy.” Cam took my
hand and squeezed. “Honey, not everybody is like your dad. And you’re
stronger than your mom ever was.”
“That’s not what this is about.” I didn’t want to think about my parents. For
all intents and purposes, I was effectively an orphan. My dad had hooked up
with a younger, bustier version of the country club blonde years ago. He’d
signed over custody of me, his only child, without a blink, faithfully paying
child support until I was eighteen but never bothering with a birthday card.
I hadn’t seen him since the day he came to pack the rest of his clothes.
“Yes, it is.” Cam sighed at the expression on my face. “But I’ll let it go...for
now. It’s your birthday, right?”
“Exactly.” I tipped my wine glass in her direction before tossing back the
rest of it. “I still have presents to open, wine to drink, and cake to eat.
Right?”
“You said the magic word. Cake.” Cam stood up and returned to her seat at
Danny’s side after returning the bags and boxes to the chair she’d emptied.
“Just don’t shut down the possibility of finding somebody, Jazz. There are
still other decent guys in the world who aren’t a decade younger.”
She stuck her tongue out at Danny as he playfully tried to convince me of
the virtues of younger men.
Their light-hearted attitude cheered me up, and soon I forgot my
melancholy.
For a while.

“YOU KNOW, Danny’s got this friend...”

I groaned in the middle of tucking away a couple of gift cards. “Cam, no.
Just, no.”
“Come on, Jazz.” Her voice slid to a wheedle as she finished repacking
several gift bags, so we didn’t have as many to carry. We were taking a taxi
to my place before they jumped on the subway to finish their ride home,
and the fewer bags we had to carry, the better. “He’s cute. He’s quiet but
funny, too. He’s not boring. I think you two would be great together. Don’t
you think so, Danny?”
Catching the deer in the headlights look from Danny, I sighed. “Cam, I’m
fine as I am. I don’t need help being set up on blind dates. They never work
out.”
“Seriously...” She gave me a pitiful, pleading look. “It’s not like I’m the one
who set you up with that investment banker.”
“You mean the con artist pretending to be an investment banker?” Rolling
my eyes at the memory, I said, “That’s the best recommendation you can
give yourself? You didn’t hook me up with a con artist?”
“Well, it’s better than being the one who suggested him, isn’t it?”
When I laughed, she beamed and continued pressing her advantage.
“Just do it, Jazz...one date. Tell you what...I’ve got tickets for a Broadway
show coming up—four tickets. We can all go. Think about it. A double date
with your best friend, that takes the pressure off, doesn’t it? If he’s boring
and you don’t click, at least you’ve got Danny and me around, right?”
“You’re relentless.” Gathering up a couple of the bags, I rose. They did the
same, then followed me through the crowded restaurant. Tavern on the
Green was a New York City landmark, and when Cam had told me she’d
made reservations for my birthday, I’d expected it would only be for me
and her—maybe Danny, too. I hadn’t expected most of our employees to
show or have several friends outside of work.
Except for Cam and Danny, everyone else had already left. I was grateful
they were both on hand to help with the gifts as we made our way out of the
restaurant.
Either gratitude or the two glasses of wine made me give in when Cam
pushed again.
“Fine. Fine!” I said, laughing at the mock pout while Danny flagged a taxi.
“But we’re arriving separately, leaving separately. Make sure he knows that,
okay?”
“Yay!” Cam was enthusiastic even while being pregnant and laden with
several gift bags. She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed,
bouncing with glee. “This is going to be fun. It’s been forever since we’ve
done a double date, Jazz.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SNOW? It’s the middle of April!”

Glancing at the chatty cab driver, I smiled politely. “It’s something else. I’m
glad I check the weather every morning.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He snorted, then laid on the horn as somebody in the next
lane tried to nose over when a truck eased forward all of six inches in front
of us. “Stay in your lane, dumbass! Or use your signal!”
I couldn't help but smile.
“Pardon my French,” he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror, eyes
crinkling at the corners. “You going to a play tonight or just hanging out at
the Square?”
“A play.” I wasn’t always chatting with strangers, but I was nervous about
the blind date, and this talkative cabbie made it a lot easier to focus on
something else. Looking at my watch noticing the time, I heaved out a sigh.
“Honestly, though, I’m beginning to think the whole thing is cursed. Maybe
this weather is a bad omen.”
“Ahhh...you’re going on a date, aren’t ya?” He waved at the person in the
Mini Cooper, letting them merge into our lane. “See, this guy has his signal
on. You be nice...other drivers are nice to you. So, are you?”
Frowning, I thought back through his rambling. “Oh, a date? Yes.” With a
huffy sigh, I added, “My best friend set it up. I hate blind dates.”
“Why didn’t you tell her that?”
“She knows.” The cars on either side were moving easier now. Damn it. So
much for the weather holding us up. Guess there's no excuse now for
canceling.
We chatted easily for another ten minutes, although the tension in my neck
and shoulder muscles grew ever tighter as we got closer to Times Square
and the theater district.
“Look at that,” my driver said, sounding pleased with himself as he pulled
to a stop at the corner. “Practically right at the door.”
“Yes.” I swiped my card and added a tip. As I climbed out, my phone
chirped with a message alert. A cold wind sliced through my coat like it
was made of thin paper, and I hurried inside. The message could wait that
long.
The coat check line was heinous, so I skipped it, found a quiet spot in the
lobby area, and checked my phone.
We’re running behind, Jazz! This crazy weather has everybody driving like
idiots. Burton’s already there. He’s in the bar. He’s good-looking, wearing a
red scarf. You’ll find him. XXOO
“Well, that’s helpful,” I muttered. Good-looking and a red scarf?
Resigned, I shoved my phone into my pocket and began my search.
Navigating the clusters of people, I made it to the bar, where I found even
more people. Man, I hoped she meant he was sitting at the actual bar.
Otherwise, I would still be walking around looking for this guy at
intermission.
It was a relief when I made it to the long stretch of polished wood and saw a
couple of open seats—including one that held a coat and a long, fire-engine
red scarf draped over it, sitting right next to a guy with broad shoulders that
nicely stretched the fit of his shirt.
I approached after a quick look to make sure there weren’t any other bearers
of red scarves.
“Hi.”
He turned his head and looked at me.
I was too logical to believe in romantic ideas like love at first sight. But lust
at first sight? That could totally be a thing, even if I’d never experienced it.
His pale green eyes met mine, and it was like falling into a pool of sweet,
delicious sin.
He blinked, thick lashes briefly hiding those lovely eyes while a warm
smile curved his lips. “Hello.”
The smile was just as beautiful as his eyes. Closing my hands over the back
of the chair that held the red scarf, I decided maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Lame conversation starter, but this weather sucks, doesn’t it? Especially
for April.” This was the part of dating I really hated, that “getting to know a
person” part. Cam should be here, so this would be a little less awkward.
“I’m used to warmer weather.” He paused, then added, “I’m from
California.” He grimaced and glanced toward the windows that marched
down the front façade of the building. “I’m not much for cold weather, so
yeah, I’m not loving the April snowstorm.”
He shifted on the barstool, facing me fully, and giving me a better view at
him.
It was a nice view, too.
Those pale green eyes made me think of spring. His hair was a rich, warm
brown that looked overdue for a cut, but it suited him anyway. The glint in
his pale eyes made warmth curl in my belly, and that heat only intensified
as I recognized that spark for the interest it was.
As far as my personal life went, it had been a long time since I’d felt a kind
of reaction to a guy other than annoyance.
Maybe this date wouldn’t turn out to be so bad.
Too many years of horrible experiences with men kept me from settling in
the seat next to him, but I did ease closer. Resting a hand on the chair
holding his coat and scarf, I returned his smile. “What’s California like?”
“Warm. In some places, it’s beautiful. Watching the sun go down over the
Pacific.” His lips curved, a far-off look entering his eyes. “There’s nothing
else like it.”
“I guess it’s pretty different here in New York.”
“Yeah.”
The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver rushing down my spine, and I was
glad I had my coat on. I burrowed into it as if still chilled from the snow.
“But I’m definitely finding plenty here that appeals to me.”
He didn’t clarify, but the eye contact spoke louder than words.
“New York has its perks.” I eased closer, wondering how long he’d be in
the city. “I take it you enjoy the theater?”
He smiled. “Sometimes more than others, but in general, yes. Have you
seen the musical before?”
I had to think before I answered. “No. I was planned to see it when it first
opened, but got busy with my work, and I forgot.” Shrugging, I added,
“That happens a lot.”
“Getting busy with work? Or forgetting about plays?”
“Both?” I smiled and hitched up my shoulder. “I tend to hyper-focus,
especially when I’m on a big project.”
“If I’m enjoying the work, I do the same.” He picked up his glass and
sipped. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure.” After he flagged the server, I asked for a Manhattan. “I hear the
play’s good, though. A couple of songs from it are pretty popular—I hear
them on streaming sometimes.”
“Yes.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass and lifted it to his lips.
“There’s a...sensuality to the score. Powerful.”
I found myself hypnotized by his mouth, lips and how they moved as he
formed those words. My skin felt tight and thanks to the blood rushing
through my veins, I wished I had taken my coat off. Tightening my hand
around the glass, I took a sip of my Manhattan, loving the burn of the icy
liquor and the burn of sexual heat even more.
Maybe Cam was right. Perhaps I needed to loosen up and have fun and try
the dating thing again. Even the intimacy thing—especially if the night
continued to go so well.
THREE
 TRENT

S o far , my stay in N ew Y ork C ity has been uneventful — except for

the April snowstorm that had blown in and whited out the city. It started
earlier in the day and still hadn’t let up.
New Yorker’s never let a pesky thing like snow interfere, though, so I didn’t
see any reason to let it stop me. My hotel was only one stop away via the
subway. With that convenience, it was easy to hit the theater and see the
play.
Arriving at the theater, I confirmed my theory about New Yorker’s never
letting the weather interfere with their plans, because the lobby bar was
jumping.
The guy next to me had spent the past twenty minutes flirting with any
female who came close enough. So far, the reactions he’d received elevated
my opinion of New Yorker females. Every single one had shot him down.
After the third put-down, he started grumbling into his martini about the
problems with uptight bitches.
I considered pointing out he was the problem, but he was the type who’d try
to pick a fight. Getting thrown out of a Broadway theater didn’t seem like
the ideal way to spend a Friday night, and it would piss off Stephen.
Luckily, the asshole got up and left. He forgot his coat and a bright red scarf
on the barstool, but I didn’t feel the desire to chase him down.
The noise of the lobby bar faded down to background noise, and after
checking the time on my phone, I pulled up the search engine.
If I was going to be here for a couple of months, I needed to figure out what
private clubs were in the area.
New York City might be the most populous city in the US, but that didn’t
mean it would be easy to find a decent BDSM club.
Shit, the way my head was, maybe I should have a sex sabbatical.
Spying a familiar forum in one of the links, I went to log in but stopped. I
really didn’t have that much interest in finding a club. It involved getting a
membership and finding a sub—a temporary one.
Honestly, the whole idea made me tired.
“Hi.”
A polite brush-off already forming on my tongue, I glanced over, then put
my phone face down.
The second I saw her, I forgot all about the brush-off, the phone, the search,
and the asshole who’d left his coat and scarf behind.
She had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.
Rich and deep, a shade caught between blue and purple, almost like the
twilight sky as it yielded to the night.
Her mouth was unpainted but wide and lush, soft lips I already wanted to
feel against mine.
Those lips parted on a soft intake of breath, and there was a faintly stunned
look in her eyes, almost like she felt the same erotic, instant attraction.
I blinked away the erotic image of stealing a kiss and made myself respond
to her greeting. “Hello.”
She gripped the back of the chair next to me, her hands buried in the soft
material of the asshole’s scarf. Still smiling at me, she said, “Lame
conversation starter, but this weather sucks, doesn’t it? Especially for
April.”
The weather wasn’t my favorite topic, but if it made her linger, I wouldn’t
argue.
“I’m used to warmer weather. I’m from California.” Absently, I looked out
the windows and saw the same steady snowfall. Damn glad the subway
system wasn’t affected by snow. “I’m not much for cold weather, so yeah,
I’m not loving the April snowstorm.”
Turning my back on the windows, I focused on the woman. She was a much
more appealing subject. Those eyes alone were stunning.
“What’s California like?” she asked, her body angled toward me.
“Warm. In some places, it’s beautiful. Watching the sun go down over the
Pacific...?” Thinking about the home I’d left under Stephen’s watchful eye
and the balcony where I’d enjoyed a hundred sunsets had me wishing I was
back there instead of here, in New York City, where people bundled up like
it was the North Pole. “There’s nothing else like it.”
“I guess it’s pretty different here.”
“Yeah.” Maybe different was what I needed. Back in California, I’d been
losing interest in just about everything—even my club, the balcony where
I’d watched sunsets and written a dozen songs. I’d been all but drowning in
the apathy.
Now, talking to this woman, interest stirred something inside I hadn’t felt in
a while.
“But I’m definitely finding plenty here that appeals to me.”
Awareness bloomed in her eyes, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. She
swayed a little closer, only a few inches away now. “New York has its
perks.”
I offered her a drink and debated asking her to sit in the seat still empty next
to me. The asshole had been gone for a good ten minutes. He probably
wasn’t coming back for his coat. But there was still something skittish
about the pretty brunette. I didn’t want to rush her.
The soft flush on her cheeks intensified as our gazes connected. The pulse
in her neck fluttered, and her eyes darkened. Yeah, she might be skittish, but
she was definitely turned on.
I sure as hell was. The idea of a sex sabbatical no longer interested me a bit.
“You know, I don’t think we—”
“Hello. Excuse me, but that’s my chair.”
She straightened and turned.
Recognizing the man as the asshole who’d left his scarf and coat behind, I
sighed.
“Oh.” The woman gave me a quick, embarrassed look as she stepped back,
letting the asshole claim his belongings. He didn’t spare me a look.
I wasn’t concerned about that.
But now, the cute brunette with gorgeous eyes looked uncomfortable.
That did concern me. I’d been about two steps away from asking her name
—and number.
“Jazz!”
She turned, giving me an excellent look at her profile, her long, slim neck
bared by her upswept hair.
Jazz. I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m so sorry we’re late—oh, you and Burton found each other!”
The asshole glanced toward Jazz while she darted another quick look at me.
“Sorry,” she said with a grimace. “I thought you were somebody I was
meeting here. The scarf.”
She gestured to the scarf the asshole had draped around his neck.
“Blind date, huh?” It wasn’t so easy to smile this time.
The light in her eyes was markedly dimmer as she nodded. “My friends
invited me. Sorry to have interrupted you.”
“You didn’t.” I nodded at the tall, pretty blonde next to her, then at her. “It
was nice talking to you...Jazz.”
As they walked away, I tossed back the rest of my whiskey.
“Don’t brood over it,” I muttered even as my thoughts drifted back to the
woman. I looked in the mirror over the bar again without any conscious
decision, searching for her.
I found her just as the bell signaling it was almost curtain time sounded.
She was walking between the asshole and the cute blond who must have
facilitated the blind date. Either the friend didn’t know the asshole well, or
he was good at hiding his asshole tendencies.
Either way, none of it was my concern.
I was here for a job, after all.

END OF PREVIEW
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OFFICE ROMANCES BY M. S. PARKER

The Boss
The Dom
The Master
Chasing Perfection
Unlawful Attraction
A Legal Affair
The Pleasure Series
Serving HIM
The Billionaire’s Muse
Bound
One Night Only
Damage Control
Pure Lust Box Set