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After the numerous heartaches that had dotted my past, I’d discoveredthat I could divide the men I was attracted to into two categories. The firstcategory could be described as fuck and forget. These were the men that gotme going in the bedroom, but were easy to leave behind if necessary. It wasthe only group I bothered with anymore. They were the safe ones. Davidfell into this category.Then there were the men that were anything but safe. They weren’t fuckand forget—they were, “Oh, fuck!” They drew me to them so intensely thatI became consumed by them, absolutely focused on everything they did,said and were. I ran from these men, far and fast.Two seconds after locking eyes with this man, I knew I should berunning.He seemed familiar—he must have been in the club before. But if hehad been, I couldn’t imagine that I’d have forgotten. He was the mostbreathtaking man on the planet—his chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw satbeneath perfectly floppy brown hair and the most intense gray eyes I’d everseen. His five o’clock shadow made my skin itch, yearning to feel the burnof it against my face—against my inner thighs. From what I could see, hisexpensive three-piece navy suit was fitted and of excellent taste. And hissmell—a distinct fragrance of unscented soap and aftershave and pure malegoodness—nearly had me sniffing at the air in front of him like a dog inheat.But it wasn’t just his incomparable beauty and exquisite display of malesex that had me burning between my legs and searching for the nearest exit.It was how he looked at me, in a way that no man had ever looked at me, ahungry possessiveness present in his stare as if he not only had undressedme in his mind, but had claimed me to be sated by no one ever again excepthim.I wanted him instantly, a prickle of fixation taking root in my belly—anold familiar feeling. But that I desired him didn’t matter. The expression onhis face said that he would have me whether I wanted it or not, that it wasas inevitable as if it had already happened.It scared the hell out of me. The hair on my skin stood up as witness tomy fear.Or perhaps it rose in delight.Oh, fuck.“Single-malt Scotch. Neat, please.”I’d almost forgotten I was supposed to be serving him. And the idea ofserving him seemed so sexy, that when he reminded me of my job, I nearlyfell over myself to get his drink. “I have a 12-year-old Macallan.”“Fine.” It was all he said, but the delivery in his low thick voice had mypulse fluttering.As I handed him his Scotch, his fingers brushed mine and I shivered.Visibly. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at my reaction, as if he werepleased.I jerked my hand back, tucking it against the bodice of my sheath dressas if the fabric could erase the warmth that had already traveled from wherehe’d touched me to the needy core between my legs.I never brushed fingers with customers—why had I done that?Because I couldn’t not touch him. I was so drawn to him, so eager forsomething I couldn’t name that I’d take whatever contact I could get.Not this again. Not now.Not ever.I moved away from him. Far and fast. Well, as far as I could get, curlinginto the opposite corner of the bar. David could serve the guy if he wantedanything else. I needed to be nowhere near him.And then, as if on cue in the bad luck life I led, Sasha returned. “David,that group in Bubble Five is harassing the waitress again.”“On it.” He turned to me. “You can handle it for a minute?”“I so got this.” I so didn’t have it. Not with Mr. Draw-Laynie-To-MeWhatever-The-Cost-To-Her-Sanity sitting at the end of the bar.But my declaration was convincing. David slipped out from behind thecounter, leaving me alone with the suit. Even Regular and his friends hadjoined a group of giggly girls at a nearby table. I scanned the dance floorhoping I could attract customers by glaring at the sea of faces. I neededdrink orders. Otherwise, Suit might think I was avoiding him by hiding inmy corner, which, of course, I was. But, honestly, the distance between usdid nothing to dim the tight ball of desire rolling around in my stomach. Itwas pointless avoidance.I sighed and wiped down the counter in front of me, though it didn’tseem to need it, just to keep myself occupied. When I braved a glance overat the hottie who had invaded my space, I noticed his Scotch was nearingempty.I also noticed his eyes pinned on me. His penetrating gaze felt morethan the typical stare of a customer trying to attract the bartender, butknowing I had a tendency to exaggerate the meanings of other people’sactions, I dismissed the idea. Summoning my courage, I forced myself overto check on him.Who am I kidding? No forcing was necessary. I glided to him as if hewere pulling me with an invisible rope. “Another?”“No, I’m good.” He handed me a hundred. Of course. I’d been hopinghe’d give me a credit card so I could glean his name.No, no, I was not hoping for that. I did not care for his name. Nor did Inotice that his left hand was absent of any ring. Or that he was stillwatching my every move as I took the cash he’d given me and rung hisorder into the register.“Special occasion?” he asked.I furrowed my brow then remembered he’d seen our toast. “Uh, yeah.My graduation. I walk tomorrow for my MBA.”His face lit up in honest admiration. “Congratulations. Here’s to yourevery success.” He raised his drink toward me and downed the finalswallow.“Thank you.” I was transfixed on his mouth, his tongue darting out toclean the last drop of liquid off his lips. Yum.When he set his glass down, I reached out my hand to give him hischange, bracing myself for the thrill of contact that would inevitably happenwhen he took it from me.But the contact never came. “Keep it.”“I can’t.” He’d given me a hundred. For one glass of Scotch. I couldn’ttake that.“You can and you will.” His commanding tone should have rankled me,but instead it got my juices flowing. “Consider it a graduation gift.”“Okay.” His demeanor took away my will to argue. “Thanks.” I turnedto stuff the money into my tip jar on the back counter, pissed at myself forthe effect this stranger had on me.“Is this also a goodbye party?” His voice called from behind me,drawing me back to face him. “I don’t imagine you’ll be using your MBAto continue bartending.”Of course that’s what a suit would assume. He was probably somebusiness type that shared the opinion of my brother—there were jobs worthhaving and jobs for other people. Bartending was the latter.But I loved bartending. More, I loved the club. I’d only started mygraduate work because I needed more to do. Something to keep me“occupied” was what Brian had said when he offered to pay for myexpenses beyond what my scholarship and financial aid covered.It was a good decision—the right decision since it essentially stoppedmy life from spiraling out of control. For the past three years I’d thrown mylife into school and the nightclub. Problem was that graduation took most ofmy preoccupation away. And now bogged down with student loans, I had tofigure out how to make ends meet without having to leave The Sky Launch.But I had a plan. I wanted a promotion. I’d been helping withsupervisory duties for the last year, but had been unable to get an officialtitle since managers had to work full-time. Now that school was over, I wasavailable for more hours. David had been grooming me for the position.The only wrinkle in my trajectory could be a new owner. But I wasn’t goingto worr
“And did he expect you to blow him after your shift?”“No. I thought that was what he was about, but…” What had hewanted? He’d seemed so into me, or had I imagined that, swayed by myown intense desire for him? “I don’t know. He left without trying anything.”I’d meant to scare him off, but that hadn’t seemed to be the reason he left.“It was…odd.”“Midnight masturbation material?”“I’ll never tell.”“Your face says it all.”Over the past week, he had entered my thoughts, wearing decidedly lessthan he had when I’d seen him at the bar. And while sexual fantasies wereinnocent enough for most people, thinking too much about any guy wasnever good for me and Liesl knew it. But I didn’t need her lecture. As longas I didn’t see him again—and chances were slim that I would—I’d be fine.I moved to straightening things on the counter that didn’t need to bestraightened and changed the subject. “So the new owner…you’ve methim? What’s he like?”Liesl shrugged. “He’s all right. Younger than
Pieces began to fit together. That was how he’d known my name. He’dprobably come that night to check out his would-be staff. But that didn’texplain his possessive staring. Maybe he was the type to think of women asobjects. Maybe he took the definition of owner to a whole other level. Thethought made my skin pebble in goose bumps.And underneath that, panic crept into my gut.I could not be this twisted up over my boss, the head honcho, the guywho would determine my fate at the club. Freaking out over him would endin serious consequences.I placed a hand loosely over my belly, encouraging a deepdiaphragmatic breath to calm my growing anxiety.Hudson tilted his head and studied me. “I’ve heard many things aboutyou. And witnessed your work.” He paused, moving his gaze up and downmy body once more, scorching my skin as he did. “But none of what I heardor saw prepared me to find you wearing this ensemble.”The color drained from my face. I wasn’t sure where he was going withhis
I glanced down at the black slinky pants that were so tight they gave mecamel toe. They made me feel sexy, and for some reason that made methink of Hudson’s dark expression when he’d first laid eyes on me. Theexpression I’d since convinced myself was imagined.“Great. Now you’re telling me I have to throw these out too?”“Well, just don’t wear them while you’re working.” He stood so hecould reach the printer on the corner of the desk behind me. “For therecord,” he said as his arm brushed my waist. “I don’t disapprove of thisoutfit in the slightest.”I, on the other hand, wanted to burn the whole ensemble. It had causedme nothing but trouble all night—drunk patrons thinking they could touchme and say things to me that they otherwise wouldn’t.But I’d worn it for David—for the moment when we’d be alone. Thiswas it.I put on a fake pout. “Too bad your opinion isn’t the one that matters.”David leaned in close. “My opinion doesn’t matter?”“Actually,” I said, grabbing his jacket
”“Would it be that bad if he did?”“Yes. It would be utterly, wonderfully, horrible.” But mostly it washorrible how not bad that idea sounded.While trying to empty my mind of Hudson blowjob images, I surveyedthe club. The place was slow, even for a Wednesday night. From the bar, Ihad full view of the ten bubble rooms that circled the perimeter of the upperlevel. The bubble rooms were The Sky Launch’s highlight. Each room,round in shape, featured a glass wall overlooking the dance floor on thelower level, and had private access much like box seats at a stadium. Theyall had a curved seating area around a table, and fit eight peoplecomfortably. The bubbles provided a relatively quiet and discreet area whilestill being very much part of the club. When the occupied lights were on,the outer walls of the bubble rooms glowed red. Only two were lit up. Ashame. If the club had the kind of notoriety it could have, those roomswould fill within the first ten minutes of being open.“G
“Oh.” I thought about saying I’d been to an amazing spa, but really, didhe care? And besides, talking was difficult with that thing he was doing tomy skin, burning it so thoroughly with his caress.His phone rang and he let go of my hand. I pulled it to my lap, needingthe warmth of my body once it’d lost the warmth of his.“Excuse me,” he said, taking his phone out of his pants pocket andsilencing it without looking at the screen.“You can take it if you need to.” I could use a few minutes to gather mythoughts. Because, what the hell did he want with me? Not only was notknowing killing me, but the more time I spent with Hudson, the easier itwas for me to think about him and his amazing gray eyes. And his hardbody. And his smooth voice.“There can’t be anything important enough to interrupt thisconversation.”And even smoother lines.I opened my mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the dooropening. Sasha entered with a tray of food and drinks. I watched as she setd
Semantics. But I understood what he was attempting to do, separatinghimself from me and my job at The Sky Launch, so I nodded.“This wouldn’t affect your employment at the club.” He removed hisarm from the couch and sat forward. “Maybe hire is not the correct term.I’d like to pay you to help me with a problem. I believe you’d be perfect forthe job.”The whole conversation had my head spinning, but he had my attention.“You win. My curiosity is piqued. What’s the job?”“I need you to break up an engagement.”I coughed, wondering if I heard him correctly, knowing I had. “Um,what? Whose?”Hudson leaned back, his dazzling gray eyes flickering in the strobelights. “Mine.”OceanofPDF.comCHAPTER FOURHUDSON TAPPED one long finger on the table in front of him. “Closeyour mouth, Alayna. Although it’s quite adorable to see you flabbergasted,it’s also very distracting.”I closed my mouth. A million questions circled through my mind, tooquickly for any to take shape. And somewhere behin
As he often did, he answered my unasked question. “I own the bank thatholds your loans. I looked them up today. It would be very easy for me tohave them written off. No actual money would exchange hands, if thatmakes you feel better.”“That’s an awfully generous payment.” Too generous. And just like Ijumped to buy a lottery ticket whenever the pot got particularly high, Iwanted to jump on his offer. But nothing that paid that well ended in good.“It’s worth it to me to see this project succeed, Alayna.”My answer was no. I’d already decided. It had to be no. There was toomuch risk at entering into an arrangement—any arrangement—with him.But I couldn’t help but want to know more of the details. “What exactlywould you want me to do?”“Pretend we’re a couple. I’d invite you to several gatherings where mymother would see us together. I’d expect you to hang on my arm andbehave as though we’re madly in love.”“And that’s all?” I couldn’t imagine it would be that hard to pretend to