Tempt the Boss_A Forbidden Bad Boy Romance

by Katie Ford

  “I may have written the book, but you believed in it.”

  “You’re going to make me cry!” she says. “Listen, I’ve got to go. My panel is starting soon. I’m back in the city next week, though. We’ll meet and talk about the contract then. Mr. Carmichael is giving us until the end of next week to accept or decline their offer.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you next week, Darla. Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome, kid.”

  Darla hangs up, leaving me even more excited than before. I want to curl up on the couch and read my potential contract a hundred times, but I know I wouldn’t understand much of it. My advisor suggested I take a contracts class during college since I told him I wanted to be a writer, but I was too busy overloading on creative writing credits to consider anything else.

  I leave my laptop on my table and head to my parents’ place. Since they live so close, I walk instead of drive. The brisk fall air feels good against my face, and my mom runs out of the hardware store door the second she sees me.

  “Ali, my baby girl!” she coos. “I am so proud of you.” Elaine smothers me in a bear hug, nearly breaking my ribs. I hug her back, resting my head on her shoulder. My mom and I are right around the same height, though my hips are almost twice as wide as hers and my boobs at least three times as big. Mom says I take after my dad’s side of the family in those areas.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say into her shirt. Tears prick my eyes. All I’ve ever wanted is to be a published author, and that dream is finally coming true.

  “You deserve this, honey. All of that writing you’ve been doing since you were a kid. It’s about time someone else saw how amazing you are.”

  “You have to say that. You’re my mom,” I say wryly.

  She smiles. “You’re an adult now, Ali. My obligations as your mother ended the day you turned eighteen. This is the truth. You’re a talented writer, and now the world is going to know that, too.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say. We pull apart from our hug and link arms. She leads me into the hardware store entrance where Dad is waiting to lock things up. There’s a separate entrance to the apartment, so we don’t have to go through the store to get upstairs, but it looks like Bob was just about to close up anyway.

  After the doors are locked, it’s my dad’s turn to hug me. “Ali, I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait to read your book.”

  “I can’t wait for you to read it.”

  “You could give it to us now,” he says slyly. “Save us the wait.”

  We head for the stairs to the apartment. “Not a chance. You know the deal. You don’t get to read this book until it’s published.”

  “Well, it sounds like we won’t have to wait too much longer,” Dad says excitedly. “My baby girl is going to be a published author!”

  “Hopefully,” I say, pulling open the door to my old home. My bedroom is the first door on the left. It’s exactly the way I left it. My parents say it’s so I can come home whenever I want, but really if it weren’t for the storage they have downstairs at the store, my room would be filled with boxes and antiques by now.

  “What do you mean, hopefully?”

  I follow my parents into the dining room. Dinner is already finished since Mom likes to have it on the table right when Dad gets up from the store.

  “I haven’t signed the contract yet. Darla still has to go over it, and I have that meeting with the CEO. What if he doesn’t like me?”

  My mom strokes my wild curls reassuringly. “Oh, honey. Editors aren’t like agents. They care about your book and that’s pretty much it. Unless you’ve done horrible things like hurt other people, they’ll publish you even if they don’t particularly like you. Agents are the ones who want a relationship.”

  “Still. I’m scared I’m going to blow my chances at this meeting tomorrow.”

  Dad sits at the head of the table, and Mom brings over the spaghetti and meatballs she made for dinner. It’s my favorite, and she always keeps the ingredients on hand for me.

  “You don’t have to worry, Ali. You’re going to blow the socks off this guy.”

  I take a bite of my food and nod, though I’m not convinced. I’ve never been good at wowing people. With my writing, sure, but not with my personality or with my looks. I thought I finally made it there when I was in college, and I had this awesome boyfriend, but then I caught him sleeping with my roommate. Even now, my heart aches with the memory. So clearly, I’m not great at reading people. I thought I understood my ex, but obviously not.

  Taking a deep breath, I smile at my dad. “I hope so.”

  Elaine takes my hand in hers. “Your dream is coming true, Ali. It’s okay to be happy about that.”

  “As soon as I sign that contract, I’ll be happy.”

  More like as soon as my book is on the shelf for people to buy, I’ll be ecstatic. This entire thing can be taken away from me at any moment. I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  After dinner and ice cream, my parents beg me to stay and play a board game with them, but it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted. The excitement of the day has worn me out. I walk down the dark, quiet street to my apartment and flop down on the couch once inside.

  I scroll through the contract on my laptop. It’s probably a good idea to familiarize myself with it before the meeting. I read through it once, and then a second time, but I’m not grasping much. Darla is going to have to explain this to me.

  But I get curious. Who is this man I’ll be meeting tomorrow? Who is Chris Carmichael? I type his name into my search engine, and I’m not surprised to find a bunch of photos of him at various rich people events. The guy who started one of the fastest growing publishing companies in the country certainly deserves a lot of coverage. I enlarge the first photo, and I’m immediately struck by how gorgeous he is. Holy shit, this is him? Bright blue eyes stare at me underneath a comma of coal-black hair. He’s dressed in a perfectly-cut tux that shows off those broad shoulders and long, powerful legs.

  I try to get my pounding heart under control. Staring at the perfect planes of Chris Carmichael’s face like some love-struck teenage girl isn’t going to tell me about the guy I’m meeting tomorrow.

  “Who are you?” I murmur breathily, mouse scrolling furiously. I switch to the articles instead, my eyes devouring the text.

  “Wow,” I whisper to my computer screen. The first page I pull up is Mr. Carmichael’s biography. He was abandoned as a baby and grew up in foster care. He built the company from the bottom up when he graduated from college and is now one of the richest men under thirty in the country.

  I flip to another article about Chris Carmichael. This one is a list of thirty women he dated in the past. Living outside of New York City, I know these tabloids can exaggerate when it comes to relationship alerts. The general consensus, though, is that the man is a playboy who’s never had a serious girlfriend in his life. It’s amazing that a guy who bounces from woman to woman can hold down a career and manage a company as awesome as Carmichael Publishing, but I guess we’re all contradictory in some way or another.

  Clearly, I’m out of my league. Because this man has accomplished a million different things, whereas I’m just plain old Ali. A wannabe author. The girl with frizzy brown hair and curves that go on for days. Most guys don’t even see me. Their eyes skate by like I’m a piece of furniture.

  So? The voice in my head says scornfully. It’s not like tomorrow’s a date. Tomorrow is where you meet a publisher who’s interested in your work. It’s a work meeting, Ali. Get with it.

  The voice is right, and I close my laptop ruefully. Trust me to get carried away. What woman wouldn’t, seeing those photos of Chris Carmichael? But still, I have to stay in my zone. I’m there to negotiate a book deal… and not to lose my head over the most gorgeous man I’ve ever set eyes on.

  CHAPTER 3

  Chris

  Oh, shit. When Ali Hartman walks into my office, I’m positive she’s an intern looking for a job. She look
s that young.

  “Hi,” the curvy brunette says shyly. “I’m Ali.”

  She holds out her hand, waiting for me to shake it. I hesitate for a second. My eyes are being drawn to her large breasts. I’d estimate them to be DDs. The dress she’s wearing accentuates her voluptuous figure. What I would give to dig my fingers into her delicious thighs while my tongue….

  What the hell am I thinking? Good thing I’m behind a desk because my immediate hard-on would be visible. Yeah, I’m a fucking dog and won’t apologize for it. Besides, no woman has ever made me hard just by walking into my office. I could really get used to this.

  But like a champ, I shake her hand like nothing’s wrong. “Nice to meet you,” are my smooth words. “I’m Chris.”

  She smiles shyly again. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carmichael.”

  “Please call me Chris,” comes my low voice.

  The woman nods and awkwardly like she’s nervous. I sit back down in my leather chair, my groin well hidden by my mahogany desk. I will my erection to subside, but Ali’s curves and her red, full lips are making that impossible.

  “Please, sit,” I drawl casually, gesturing to the chairs across from my desk. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

  That curvy form perches itself tentatively on the edge of a chair. “Of course,” the woman says, biting her lip. Oh, fuck. It makes her mouth rosy, and I’m so fucking aroused. “I’m so glad your editors liked my book.”

  “I liked your book,” I growl, holding up a copy of the manuscript. “I’ll be honest with you, we have never had a manuscript this good come to us before. We’re hoping you’ll agree to sign our contract immediately.”

  Ali blushes and my cock twitches. What the hell? This is out of control, but something about Ali’s presence is making me want to do a lot of things I’ve never done.

  “Tell me, what inspired the book?” I continue like nothing’s wrong. “The rich atmosphere of the small town, the family dynamics, the raw emotion. There has to be a story behind the story.”

  She smiles sweetly. “Well, I grew up in a town just like Smithville.”

  I raise my brow. “I thought you were from the city?”

  “I’m from about thirty minutes north of the city, but it’s easier to say I’m from NYC,” she says with a gentle laugh. “I went to school here, anyways, so I guess I just got used to saying it after four years.”

  “I see.”

  She continues to smile nervously at me. I’m tempted to jump over my desk and kiss those beautiful lips.

  “So I drew a lot of inspiration from my hometown, though we don’t have unsolved murders and my dad isn’t a serial killer. The human relationships and dynamics are real, but the plot is all me.”

  I can see that in the writing. I’m surprised I didn’t pick up on it before. Only someone from a small town could nail small town life so well.

  “Your book is incredible, Ali.”

  She beams. “It means so much to hear you say that.”

  “Do you think you’ll sign the contract? No pressure, of course. And you’re not legally bound by anything you say in here.”

  She blushes again, biting her lip.

  “I hope so. My agent is looking it over and requesting changes. We’re going to discuss it when she’s back in town next week, and I’ll have an answer for you.”

  Ali shifts in her seat, causing her dress to ride down just a bit further. The mounds of her breasts threaten to pop out of the tight bodice of her dress. I lick my lips and quickly tear my eyes away from the delicious sight.

  She catches my eyes as they fight to meet hers again. I avert mine when I see her gentle smile. Does this woman know what she’s doing to me? Normally, I’d say yes, but in this case, she’s so innocent. It’s possible Ali has no idea.

  “Tell your agent we’re willing to make any reasonable changes to the contract if it means we can get to work on this project.”

  Ali smiles. “I’ll let Darla know.”

  “Do you have any questions for me?”

  She thinks for a second. “Well, I was wondering what the process is if I decide to sign the contract. What comes next? What should I expect?”

  “Those are questions I can answer,” I say. I shift into my professional persona as much as I can with a raging hard on. “After you’ve signed the contract, we’ll send your agent a check for the first half of the advance. Then we’ll send you some preliminary edits. Based on the draft I read, the edits won’t be substantial. Jenny will be your contact for those. Once you turn them in, we’ll do another round of edits if necessary. If not, you’ll get the second half of the advance when you turn in your final draft. If there are more edits, you’ll get the rest of the advance once the final is turned in. And then there’s a bunch of backend stuff we can go over when the time comes. Cover design, packaging, line edits. Traditional publishing is a long road. If you sign that contract, you’re stuck with us for a while. But you’ll like it, I promise.”

  The pretty brunette smiles. “I think I would be really happy to be stuck with you for a while.” Ali blushes. “All of you,” she stammers. “All of Carmichael Publishing. You seem like a great group of people.”

  I smirk, drawling, “I only hire the best.”

  Our conversation is coming to an end, but I don’t want her to leave. But as long as she’s in this office, I’m never going to get my cock to deflate.

  So I finish the conversation smoothly, the way I always have.

  “It was nice to meet you, Ali,” I drawl, walking around the desk. My cock still strains against my dress pants, but I’m counting on Ali being better than I am. I may not be able to keep my eyes off her breasts, but she can keep her eyes off my groin. Hopefully.

  Ali stands as well, holding out her hand for another shake. I take her hand in mine, grasping firmly. Her small hand is warm against my palm.

  And shit, but sparks fly. I can feel it. There’s electricity in the room as our eyes meet, our hands touching one another. She gasps slightly, cheeks flushing as those big breasts heave. My erection wants out of my pants, and I want inside this woman. I can’t deny my instant attraction to her. I had hoped to get her out of the office before I made any stupid decisions, but I’m well beyond that point now.

  So like a bastard, I yank Ali to me, causing her to topple into my broad form. She steadies herself on her tall heels using my muscled chest as her anchor.

  “Sorry,” she gasps, as if she fell into me on her own.

  “Don’t be,” I say, towering over her. I gaze down into her eyes, hoping she feels the same passion I do. Based on the way she’s licking her lips, I’d say she does.

  Before she loses her nerve and runs away, I lean down and crash my lips hard against hers. She gasps and then wraps her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss.

  “Oh,” she says as my tongue parts her lips and sweeps the inside. She moans against me, pushing her hips into mine.

  “One second,” I say, reluctantly removing my lips from hers. I quickly shuffle to the door and flip the lock. My employees don’t usually walk in unannounced, but the last thing we need is to be caught doing what we’re about to do. Carmichael Publishing has a strict no fraternizing policy between employees and authors, even potential authors. Getting caught would be disastrous to both our careers. Especially mine, since I basically wrote that rule.

  But hell, some rules are meant to be broken.

  I turn my attention back to Ali, swooping down for another luscious kiss.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her while nipping at the smooth curve of her neck.

  “So are you,” she breathes. I laugh and nip at her skin again.

  As our kisses intensify, I wrap my arms around her and pull down the zipper of her tight dress. Ali jumps at my touch but doesn’t stop me. She kisses me harder. I slide the dress down to her waist, revealing her bra-covered breasts.

  I take the large mounds into my hands and squeeze while I kiss back down her neck.
Just as I suspected, her tits were made for my hands, filling my palms with silky skin.

  Ali moans when I squeeze harder, giving me the okay to keep going. I unlatch her bra with expert hands and let it fall to the floor.

  We pull apart for a second, and Ali looks at me with a tentative smile. Something tells me she’s not used to doing things like this. She might even be a virgin.

  I step forward, so Ali has to step back until her ample ass is level with my desk. I pull her dress the rest of the way down her body and lift her wide hips onto the finished wood.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Ali,” I growl, blue eyes burning.

  She answers me with wide eyes. This woman is definitely a virgin, or at least it’s been a long time since a man treated her the way a woman should be treated. As much as I want to slam into her right now, I know Ali needs me to take it slow. I don’t usually take it slow with women, but this female is already different. Why not break more rules for her?

  I kiss my way down her neck to her breasts, taking her left nipple into my mouth and sucking. I twirl my tongue around the tight little bud as I work on her beautiful, large breast.

  “Oh god,” she moans. “Keep doing that.”

  “Your wish is my command.” I continue sucking on one breast while kneading the other.

  I close my teeth around her nipple, and Ali cries out. The sound is pure pleasure and music to my ears.