by Katie Ford
But fortunately, I’m able to hide my disorientation from the beautiful girl by nodding, smiling, and asking a couple good questions at the right moments. We talk until my assistant calls to say it’s time for my meeting. Ali and I both stand.
“Thanks for coming,” I say sincerely. “I liked finding out about your childhood, sweetheart.”
She blushes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever talked that much about myself, Mr. Carmichael. I was a total motormouth.”
Leaning forwards, I brush her temple with my lips.
“And I liked hearing it,” I breathe into her ear. “It was one hundred percent interesting.”
She blushes.
“Next time, you’ll have to tell me about yourself,” she invites. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
And suddenly, the world comes crashing down. Because I’m an orphan with a dark past. I don’t deserve someone as wholesome and good as Ali. She’s light, sweetness, and bliss rolled into one, whereas I’m a mass of selfishness and destruction. I don’t deserve someone as good as her.
But I keep my thoughts under wraps.
“Will do,” is my light comment. “See you next time.”
And with a smile and wave, the curvy brunette disappears, leaving me alone in my office. Suddenly, it seems very empty without her. But this is the way it has to be. Because I have a dark heart … and an innocent like the beautiful Ms. Hartman doesn’t deserve to be corrupted.
CHAPTER 8
ALI
After the meeting with Chris and Jenny, I had dinner with Darla so we could go over the edits together. My agent read over everything they gave me and the notes I took during our meeting. Darla agreed with their comments and told me to get started. She gave me a two-week deadline to do a preliminary rewrite of the manuscript.
My two weeks are up today, but I’m no further than I was when Chris and Jenny gave me the notes. Because there’s a saying that writers like to use about editing manuscripts: Don’t kill the darling. It just means that no one wants to delete the parts of their manuscript they’re attached to. I do like some of the things Chris and Jenny want me to change, but it’s making it difficult for me to get the manuscript right.
For example, there’s a section I really like where Sarah first realizes her dad is the serial killer plaguing their town. She has a short monologue, just two paragraphs, where she struggles with the fact that she knows her father is a horrible person, but she also still loves him. Sarah has to grapple with her mixed feelings. I love this point. Jenny and Chris thought it felt fake and forced. I agree with them in the placement, but I can’t figure out how to get rid of the paragraphs without losing the sentiment completely.
“Damnit,” I yell, tossing my laptop onto the couch. I’m not getting anywhere with this. I pick my phone up from the coffee table and scroll through my social media accounts. We officially announced the book deal last week, and I’ve gotten a lot of new followers since then. I try to respond to as many as I can, but it’s impossible to keep up with all of it. I type out a blanket “Thank you” to all my new followers and exit the app.
My fingers move on their own, opening up my contacts. Chris said I could call him if I had any trouble with the edits. I’m in borderline crisis mode right now, and I’m supposed to email Darla with my edits today, so she can give me notes before I turn in the new draft to Carmichael Publishing. What the hell. I’m drowning here, and need a life raft.
I hit the call button. It rings a few times, and I’m not sure he’s not going to answer. But then there’s a tell-tale click.
“Chris Carmichael,” that deep voice sounds.
“Hi, Chris. It’s Ali.”
“Oh. Hey, Ali,” he says. He sounds surprised but pleased. We haven’t spoken since the day we had lunch together in his office. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m just… I’m working on my rewrite and I’m having some trouble.”
He laughs gently. “Can’t kill your darlings?”
“It’s hard!” I exclaim. “It’s like putting a knife through your own children!”
He laughs with understanding.
“Do you want to come over and talk about it? I have some time this afternoon.”
I get up, stretching a bit. “Um. Oh well, I don’t want to take up your time. I know you’re busy.”
He chuckles.
“Ali, it’s okay. We want your book to be the best it can be. I’d be happy to help out if you’re struggling. Bring the section you want to work on and meet me in my office in an hour?”
Oh my god, that’s so soon! But immediately, I jump at the opportunity. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll see you then.”
“Perfect,” he says smoothly. “See you in a few.”
When we hang up, I head to my closet and search through my clothes like a madman, my heart pumping furiously. I consider putting on one of my fancier dresses reserved for city meetings, but that would seem like I’m trying too hard. Instead, I take my favorite blue blouse and slip it over my head. The sweetheart neckline makes my boobs look even bigger than they already are. I step into a black ruffled pencil skirt that hugs my wide hips. My breasts and hips are Chris’s favorite things to look at, so I want my outfit to draw attention to those features.
Taking a deep breath, I walk to the train station down the block from my apartment. The twenty-minute ride into the city is uneventful, and I get to Chris’s office less than an hour after hanging up. But as I walk towards his office, people give me looks. Sideways ones, accompanied by more than a few eyerolls. Oh god. They know. I try to ignore them, but my heart races. What if this ruins my fledgling career? And Chris’s career to boot?
Trevor lets me into Chris’ office, and I step in tentatively. The boss is on the phone, but he motions for me to sit, so I pull out the materials I brought to keep me company until he’s ready. Reading over the pages of my manuscript helps calm me down about the weird looks Chris’ employees were giving me. And once he hangs up, he gives me his full attention.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “My editors can be pretty needy.”
I shoot him a wobbily smile.
“No worries. Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Of course. So, what were you struggling with?”
The man is a picture of confidence, so I hand him the pages. He reads over the highlighted paragraphs and makes a couple of notes for me. “I can see your problem. We like what you’re saying here, but we don’t like how you’re saying it.”
“I know,” I sigh.
“Here,” he says, scribbling some additional items. “These notes should help.”
I take the papers and look them over. He’s crossed out a couple of sentences and added a different transition into Sarah’s inner rant. It makes more sense, and flows more smoothly to boot. Wow, I’m really impressed. The alpha male clearly has an incredible instinct for the written word, and my respect for him skyrockets.
“This is amazing,” I breathe. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “It’s what I do, honey.”
I blush.
“Thank you so much. Well, I guess that solves things. I should go.”
“Wait,” he says. “Why don’t you hang out? You seem stressed. Are you okay?”
I flush. Oh god, this man can read me so easily.
“I was a little flustered,” come my rushed words. “But I’m okay now. Thanks.”
Chris grins at me, standing from behind the desk and coming to stand by me. “You look like you could use a distraction.”
And with that, he lifts me effortlessly from my seat and leans me against his desk.
“Oh,” I breathe. Chris kisses me hard and fast, his tongue immediately slipping past my open lips. “Oh, you meant this. Yes, I think I can stay.”
He chuckles deep in his chest, and the sound slithers through me like a physical caress. “I thought so, sweetheart. You need some hard loving, don’t you? That’ll relieve the stress, don’t you think?”
He laughs against my tits. “I won’t.” He nibbles on my skin.
“Oh, please yes.” I didn’t know how sensitive my breasts were until this man. “Chris,” I beg again. “As much as I love this, I need to feel you inside me. Now.”
He chuckles low in his throat before expertly removing my bra and suckling on my nipple, ignoring my pleas for more. My panties are drenched. I’m glad I wore a matching set today. Not that I expected to have sex with Chris again. I just kind of hoped I would.
Chris pulls my skirt down, letting it fall to the floor with my shirt and bra. His fingers find my panties and pull them to the side, plunging three deep into my wet slit.
“Oh, my God, yes!” is my delighted squeal. My head flies back as pleasure rockets through me.
I use my idle hands to unbutton his shirt and slide it off his broad shoulders. During our trysts, he’s never been fully naked, and suddenly I’m consumed with a burning desire to see that god-like body. I kiss his neck desperately while he fingers me. He clearly works out because his abs are perfectly defined, that stomach taut and tight. After I’ve explored his chest, I fumble with his belt.
“Please,” I breathe. “I need it.”
The alpha male’s cobalt gaze catches mine.
“It’s yours sweetheart. Just wet your hand a little. That’s it. Just like that.”
I spit into my hand and palm his throbbing member, sliding up and down. Chris groans into my neck. “That feels so fucking good, baby. Keep doing that.”
“Unnh,” I breathe, feeling my orgasm close in as he drills my twat with his digits. “I’m gonna come too.”
I expect Chris to pull his fingers out of me the way he has the last couple of times, but he doesn’t. “Come then, baby,” he murmurs. “Come on my hand.”
His words send me over the edge. I shudder on his desk, my insides quaking around his fingers. Heat rockets through my entire frame as my pussy clamps and clenches, a scream bursting from my throat. But he hasn’t come, and my hand slides up and down his cock furiously.
“I want to be inside you now,” he growls, blue eyes intense. “Are you ready?”
My pussy is still sensitive, but I nod anyway. If coming on his hand felt that good, I can’t wait to feel his cock in me again. “Fuck me, Chris. Please. Use my body for your pleasure. Trash my cunt now.”
A maniacal grin crosses his face upon hearing the dirty words, and in one swift stroke, he’s buried all the way into my soaking wet pussy. He doesn’t miss a beat, thrusting in and out of me like a powerful piston.
“Oh, fuck!” I squeal. “Keep going. You feel so good.”
“You’re so tight, baby. I could live inside you,” he rasps, hips swinging back and forth, his balls slapping against my ass. “Fuck you’re so tiny.”
I’m about to agree, to beg Chris to never stop filling me up with his giant cock, when suddenly the door bursts open.
“What the fuck?” Chris yells, still buried balls deep in me. But it’s too late because the man’s already starting to come, and hot gusts of bubbly white explode in my fertile channel. “Fuuuuuck,” he grunts, his dick twitching as those balls drain dry. “Fuck!”
Th intruder isn’t even embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry,” a feminine voice says snidely. “I should have knocked.”
“Julie,” Chris starts, but she slams the door before he has the chance to finish his sentence.
“Shit,” he repeats. He pulls out of me, massive cock dripping with a mix of our juices. “This is bad.”
I sit there, unable to move for a moment, pussy still dripping his cum. But then my body flies into motion. I step away from Chris to hastily slip my skirt and shirt back on. “How could you not lock your door?” I demand. “Why don’t your employees knock?”
“I have an open-door policy, usually,” he says, shrugging like it’s not his fault. “It’s not like I normally have sex with authors on my desk.”
“Well, at least I’m special,” I say bitterly.
“Ali, come on. I’ll talk to her. She won’t say anything.”
I snort in an unladylike manner. “You really expect me to believe she hasn’t already told everyone out there that you’re banging your new acquisition right now?”
Chris sighs. He puts his pants back on and sits against his desk. “You’re right. But I’m the boss. I can change the rules.”
I’m already shaking my head before he finishes. “If you can change the rules, you would have already. This isn’t the first time we’ve done this. It’s the second. No make that the third.”
He reaches for me. “Ali, come on.”
“No,” I retort, avoiding him. “I can’t do this. What if the board tells you to take back the offer on my book?”
He lets out a wry smile.
“You signed a contract. The ink’s already dry. Trust me, that won’t happen for a number of legal reasons.”
My laugh holds a brittle tone. “Your board could just tell you to screw it and eat the cost. And then I’d be ruined. Who would want to publish my book after they find out what happened here?”
He rolls his eyes and it infuriates me.
“No one will find out!” he says calmly.
But panic is rising in my chest as I feel my dreams slipping between my fingers. “It’s probably trending already on social media! Hot new author fucks publisher, gets her book pulled.”
“Julie wouldn’t let it out of the office.”
I throw up my hands, infuriated. “You don’t know that.”
The alpha male runs a hand through his hair, leaving the black strands attractively tousled.
“Ali,” he begins, frustrated.
I don’t want to hear what he has to say, though. I walk to the door, ready to own up to my decisions and face whatever this stupid mistake will mean for my career. Because what have we done? I didn’t just sleep with my publisher once in violation of the rules. I did it three times, and in his office to boot. With the door unlocked. Whatever bad things are coming my way … I feel like I deserve it.
CHAPTER 9
CHRIS
Oh shit. Things have gone south in a real bad way.
“Please don’t go,” I tell Ali. “I really like you.”
The beautiful brunette is practically shaking with anger. After all, I told her if anyone were to find out about us, it would threaten both of our careers. So what have we been doing? Why would we jeopardize what we’ve worked so hard for?
But it’s not the sex that’s the mistake. Doing it in secret was.
Because I’ve been thinking about it since I met Ali. I feel something for this woman. Something real, powerful, and profound. And it extends to more than the physical. I want to be with her, for real and not in secret anymore.
But the woman can’t hear me because she’s so angry.
“You like sex,” she says, fear and anger sharpening her tone. “I’ve read all about you. It’s like… it’s like you’re publishing my book in exchange for my time with you. I feel like a slut!” Tears swim in her eyes. “You’re paying me by publishing my book. I’m no better than a common whore.”
The words hit me like tangible projectiles. “That’s not true. Publishing your book has nothing to do with what we have.”
“Forgive me for not believing you. Every time we’ve been together, it’s always been about my book. Or at least at first, before we get carried away. Tell me, is that a coincidence? Or did you plan it all?”
I walk over to my desk and slam my fist down. “I would never pay a woman for sex. I would never publish someone’s book in exchange for anything, let alone sex. Sweetheart, my reputation’s on the line. Would I sacrifice that for a little pussy?”
She won’t meet my eyes. “Again, forgive me for no
t believing you,” Ali says in a brittle voice. “It’s a little far-fetched right now.”
But I shake my head.
“Trust me, I would never pay a woman for sex.” And then the moment comes. “My mother was a prostitute,” I say in a tight voice, the revelation practically killing me. “My father paid her for the opportunity to knock her up, and then she tossed me out after she gave birth. I’m basically an orphan.”
Ali’s face softens. “Chris, I didn’t ….”
“No. You didn’t. What part of what we’ve done has ever been like that? Your book and our relationship have nothing to do with one another. If you ever felt like I forced you…. Well, I never meant for it to be like that.”
Ali looks remorseful, and takes my hand. “No, you’re right. It wasn’t like that. You never forced me into anything. I wanted to have sex with you. I’m just… I’m freaked out, that’s all. Julie is probably out there telling everyone right now. If they didn’t already know. But now there’s an eye-witness account that they can use against us, and it’s terrifying. I knew getting published was too good to be true. I let myself get my hopes up.” Her voice cracks at the end.