by Vi Keeland
“Yeah.”
“It’s my fault. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
Over the next full two minutes or so, she must have apologized a dozen times as I explained what happened. I knew she was truly sorry, but I told her to stop apologizing. I got to the part about how someone saved me, but I didn’t tell her who it was, specifically. I just said it was a neighbor.
“I just need you to do something for me,” I said, trying to bring this conversation to a close for now.
“Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Monday morning. I got to my desk without seeing Kevin, thank God. The last thing I needed was my boss asking about my weekend and detecting from my blushing or body-language that I’d been up to something. Of course, he would have no idea I had been with Max. But the ramifications of my dating and sleeping with someone we were working with could have been disastrous for me and my future.
I did finally see Kevin around 11 a.m. He stopped by my desk and said I should pack up my things.
My heart sank. Did he know? Had he found out I had breached his trust by being with Max? I felt my throat go dry and the beginnings of that little stinging you get before you cry, as the tears well up.
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he said. “Don’t worry. I was joking. Or trying to, anyway. But you do need to pack up your things and come with me.”
I stood. “What’s going on?”
“Just do it.”
He put a box on my desk and started putting things in it. I joined him, and it wasn’t long before we were done. There wasn’t all that much on my desk. I did make sure to pack up the drawer I used to stash my many packages of sunflower seeds—a snacking habit that caused Kevin to refer to me once as a bird.
He led me down the hall to an office that had been serving as a storage room. He opened the door. All of the extraneous stuff he had been storing in there was gone, and now in its place was a desk, a big leather chair behind it, and two nice visitors’ chairs on the other side of the desk.
“I think you earned your own office space,” he said, standing aside so I could walk in.
An office of my own. With a window! And out of that window was a view of a good part of Los Angeles. There was a lump in my throat as the realization hit me that I was already moving up in the show business world. Just a few months ago, I could never have dreamed of doing the things I’d already done, and now, with my new office, I felt like I was on my way.
“Wow. Thanks, Kevin.” I put my little box of belongings on my new desk.
“You deserve it. Now get settled in and back to work.” He smiled and turned down the hallway.
An hour later I was doing yet another interview of an aspiring actress who was seeking representation. Her real name was Madeline Ostrosvky but, like so many others with names that were hard to pronounce, she planned to use a different last name professionally.
“Redford,” she said.
“Redford,” I repeated flatly.
“It sounds elegant. Like a rich, successful sounding name.”
I handled it as gently as I could. “People will think you’re trying to capitalize on Robert Redford’s name.”
“Who?”
Oh, Jesus. Did she really not know who Robert Redford was? I mean, sure, he was of a different generation and it was entirely possible that she hadn’t seen any of his movies, even the more recent ones. But what kind of aspiring actor or actress hasn’t even heard the name “Robert Redford”?
So I told her who he was, how big a name that is in Hollywood, and repeated my previous warning about it—people would see it as a cheap ploy using Robert Redford’s name to make her more recognizable.
“We’ll have to work on the name,” I concluded, and started to look through more of her resume and photos.
“We? Does that mean you’re taking me on as a client?”
I paused. This wasn’t how we did things at Kevin’s agency.
She must not have liked the pause and seen it as bad news, and said, “I really need this. I got these just for acting.” She started to lift her blouse. “They’re still a little sore—”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “You don’t have to do that. Really.”
That’s the kind of afternoon I had. Oh well. At least I had it in my new fancy office.
“I have to go out of town for a few days.”
The words from Max coming through the phone disappointed me. It was just before five o’clock and I was sitting at my desk, surveying my new surroundings and wondering what I could do with the walls.
I had become accustomed to seeing Max so often, or at least talking to him every day, I knew I would miss him and it would just make the workdays drag on even more until I laid eyes on him again.
“When?”
“I’m leaving in a couple of hours. Got a couple of people scouting locations for a shoot and they can’t seem to agree so I’m going to do it myself.”
“Oh, such a take-charge man.”
“Do I sense a little sarcasm in your voice?”
I laughed. “No, you sense a lot.” I loved our banter, and decided to be playful to relieve my disappointment.
“And you,” he said, “better watch your mouth or I just might spank you.”
My eyebrows rose up my forehead. Thank goodness he couldn’t see them. “It’s about time you brought that up.”
“You like that, huh?”
“My favorite,” I said in a hushed voice, trying to sound sexy. The truth was, I had never been spanked. Never even really thought of it. But there was something about the idea of Max doing it that made my insides stir a little. Okay, a lot.
“I’ll keep that in mind. You should come with me.”
“What?”
“On my trip to New York.”
I’d never been to New York City before. I wanted to go so badly. But I knew I couldn’t. “I have to work.”
“Get out of it.”
“I can’t, Max. Especially since I have my own office now.”
He whistled sarcastically. “Now who’s the big-shot in this town?”
“Still you,” I said. I told him about the office and how Kevin had presented me with it. “So there’s no way I can just take off the rest of this whole week. That would look pretty bad.”
“Fine then. We’ll go this weekend. I’ll come get you and we’ll go. I enjoyed our weekend out of town. Nice, quiet—”
“Not so quiet in the bedroom.”
“I was getting to that.” He chuckled. “So we had the quiet getaway. Now we’ll have a not-so-quiet one.”
Max and I texted and talked on the phone over the next couple of days. He told me all about his trip and I filled him in on how my week was going. But mostly we talked and teased about our upcoming weekend in New York.
Grace called Wednesday morning as I was driving into work. She had done exactly what I asked her to do.
“He’s been to work the last two days,” she said.
Several days ago when I told her I had something for her to do, that’s what I was talking about. All I wanted was for her to find out if Chris was back home, making me feel safe knowing he was no longer in LA, and that’s exactly how I felt upon hearing her news.
“Thank God,” I said.
“I think you mean, ‘Thank Grace.’”
“Uh, I wouldn’t push it if I were you,” I said. “You’re a big part of the reason all of this happened in the first place.”
Her tone shifted to apologetic again, but I told her to forget it.
“Thanks for checking it out,” I said. “You still haven’t told Mom and Dad, right?”
“No way.”
“Good.”
“So,” she said, changing the subject, “have you met anyone?”
I wanted to tell her about Max. I really did. I just wasn’t ready to divulge it to the world yet. And I didn’t want her to fret, like I knew she would. She had been just as skeptical of my new life in LA as my parents had been. While m
y parents were mostly disapproving, Grace was worried about me. All the more reason not to tell her just yet.
Chapter Sixteen
The rest of the week was uneventful. I was glad I didn’t have any more interviews with prospective clients. I could focus on my work, which mostly involved coordinating with our PR team to make sure our clients’ social media accounts were current. That also involved responding to fans. Before I got this job, I had no idea how much of the interaction between fans and stars was really between fans and PR folks.
When I got home Friday afternoon, there was nothing to do but wait. I had already packed and Max was sending a car for me. He was coming back from Vancouver—all the way to LA to pick me up, then we were off for New York City.
I sat on the couch, using my phone to browse Twitter, all the while thinking about how I had my first flight when I was twenty, and now I was about to take my second private plane ride in as many weekends. What a whirlwind this was turning out to be.
I got a text from Max: Car should be there any minute.
I wrote back: Great! Can’t wait to see you.
Max: I’ll tell the driver to step on it.
Me: Haha. Where are you now?
Max: About to land in Burbank. Are you hungry?
Me: For you.
Damn. I shouldn’t have sent that. Ah, what the hell—it wasn’t like I was playing hard to get anymore.
Max: You’re a bad girl. I like it.
Me: I’m not hungry.
Max: Too late. I already ordered your food. See you in a bit.
A few minutes later I was in the backseat of a black Rolls Royce. The driver was an older gentleman named Samuel. He asked me if I’d like a drink on the way. I declined and he closed the door, then whisked us off toward the Burbank airport.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Is this…are you…do you work for Max?”
“No, Ms. Rowland. Not directly. I work for myself, actually. Mr. Dalton is one of my clients.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Sorry to disappoint, ma’am.”
I looked at the review mirror and saw him looking back at me. “I’m not disappointed. Sorry if I sounded that way.”
“It’s quite all right, Ms. Rowland.”
“Call me Olivia.”
He nodded his head. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. I like my business to be of the highest class, so while you’re free to call me Samuel, or whatever you’d like, I’d prefer to call you Ms. Rowland or ma’am, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Garvey.”
“Okay, Mr. Garvey, you may call me Ms. Rowland.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
He didn’t laugh out loud, but in the mirror I could see the corners of his eyes scrunch up, so I had at least brought a smile to his face.
By the time we got to the airport it was dusk. A beautiful sunset was at the end of the runway. Max’s private plane sat on the tarmac, the door open and the steps down. When Mr. Garvey turned toward the plane, I saw Max standing at the foot of the stairs.
He wore a tight white t-shirt, jeans, and black hiking boots. So simple, yet so fucking hot.
Before Mr. Garvey could get out to open my door for me, I asked, “He probably does this all the time, right? I mean…takes girls on his plane to impress them?”
Mr. Garvey didn’t say anything, nor did he move.
I looked out the window at Max walking toward the limo, getting closer and closer, and I realized Mr. Garvey wasn’t going to get out to open my door.
He also wasn’t going to answer my question. That’s how loyal he was to Max. But his loyalty wasn’t what was on my mind.
All I could think about was whether I’d gotten myself into something more than I could handle.
And it wouldn’t be long before I would find out.
The FADE series continues with part 2 of 3, FADE INTO ME. Available at all major eBook vendors now.
About the Author
Kate Dawes is the bestselling erotic romance author of the FADE series, LAYOVER RULES, and the new adult romance novel BREAK MY FALL (written as J.T. Cameron).
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His Need, Her Desire
An Erotic Novella
Malia Mallory
Copyright © 2012 by Malia Mallory
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/
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DISCLAIMER
The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
MATURE CONTENT
This story contains sexually explicit material, and is intended only for persons over the age of 18. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. All of the characters involved in the sexual situations in this story are intended to be 18 years of age or older, whether they are explicitly described as such or not.
SAFE SEXUAL PRACTICES
This story is a work of fiction and depicts fantasy situations. Safe sex practices are not always referenced. Please always be sure to educate yourself about safe sex before engaging in physical intimacy. Please do not try any sexual practice without proper knowledge and guidance.
Executive assistant Tabitha Quinn didn’t come to Hawaii to be spanked. But when vacationing businessman Marcus Granger saves her from drowning, they begin an affair that moves from the beach to the bedroom and straight into an experience Tabitha’s never had before: dark-haired, blue-eyed Marcus is a dominant, and spanking is just the beginning. The sex is intense, the emotion even more so, until they both must decide if this is a holiday fling or the real thing.
His Need, Her Desire
Tabitha wrestled to stake a claim on her armrest with her elbow and once again failed. Being on a plane bored her. Tabitha liked the actual flying, the sensation of being in the air and the beautiful views out the window. However, being trapped in a too tight seat with stale air was not her idea of fun. She’d prepared by bringing food, books, and music, but none of it held her attention. As a last resort, Tabitha attempted to sleep so she could arrive rested. So far, no such luck.
It wasn’t noisy passengers or a child kicking her seat; it was the anticipation of her first trip to Hawaii. In addition, this was one of the longest flights she’d ever experienced. She’d changed planes in Chicago, and the Chicago to Hawaii leg was nine hours long. Even going to Europe, she hadn’t been on a plane ride that lengthy with no respite.
Fidgeting in her seat, Tabitha searched for a comfortable position. Could they make these things any smaller? She didn’t feel she was that tall at 5’9”, but her knees were jammed into the back of the seat in front of her. She wasn’t a twig. She considered herself average. Still, her hips touched the armrests on both sides of her.
Tabitha shifted in her seat again and the seam of her pants rubbed against her clit, sending a pleasurable zing through her body. Wow, that felt good. She glanced around
at her fellow passengers. Some were napping and a few were still trying to watch the in-flight movie. The man next to her had his face buried in a newspaper and his elbow on the armrest. Do I dare continue? Perhaps the restroom would be better. Once the thought crossed her mind, she immediately rejected it. She’d been in the lavatory an hour earlier, and it had been absolutely filthy. Membership in the mile high club must be lagging. Maybe it was best if she flew solo.
The light was dim in the cabin, and Tabitha didn’t think anyone noticed her movements. She tentatively shifted again. The fabric bunched in just the right spot. She couldn’t resist, and frankly, she didn’t intend to. She shifted her hips side to side very slowly, almost imperceptibly. Her clit swelled with arousal. Should I do it? At home, she’d always used a vibrator, but she hadn’t brought it with her, fearful that an airport TSA agent might start waving it around. Besides, she would be sharing a room with her friend, Barbara, and didn’t expect to have time for such private things.
Tabitha continued to shimmy her hips, glancing around again. No one seemed the wiser. She felt very naughty, masturbating right here on the plane in full view of all the passengers. Surprisingly, the idea heightened her arousal. She clenched inside as heat built within her.
Tabitha touched her breast with her fingertips as if sweeping away imaginary crumbs from a snack. Her nipples puckered. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Again and again, she rubbed against the raised seam of her pants. Inside, her panties were getting wet.
Down the aisle, a very hunky surfer-type guy was heading her way. She positioned herself on the armrest in such a way that she was slightly in the aisle. As he brushed past, she leaned out a bit more and felt his warmth against her arm. His unwitting participation in her adventure pushed her over the edge. Her hands clenched as her orgasm rolled through her. She bit her lip to hold back her cries and desperately tried to keep her breathing even.