He sifts through the dresses, and tags start fluttering down to the floor as he rip them off. “Pick a damn dress. Don’t worry about the price. As your boss, I’m demanding it.”
“No.”
He grins, enjoying my challenge. “Pick one or I will.” His lips spread into a mischievous grin. “And I can guarantee it’ll be the one that shows the most skin and cleavage.”
“Ugh, fine,” I groan out. I slowly drag myself out of the chair dramatically.
He grins in victory and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket as Mallory starts handing me dresses. I take them into the dressing room until I find the one. I step out and stand on the platform.
“Fuck,” Knox hisses out. My stomach flutters when he moves in closer. “You look gorgeous. This one is my favorite.” His eyes stay on me. “Mallory, be a doll and find some heels to go with this.”
“On it,” Mallory replies, grinning.
“Knox,” I say, starting my argument.
“Stop right now, or I’ll buy you more shit.”
16
Knox
I snap my watch around my wrist while taking a final look into the mirror before leaving my bedroom. I head down the hallway and stop at the door to my best guest room.
“You almost ready?” I yell, knocking.
“Yes!” Libby calls back from the other side. “Give me five minutes!”
“No problem. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
I smile with each step down the stairs. Mallory found Libby the perfect heels, and I somehow convinced her to let me buy her makeup so she could get ready here since we wouldn’t have much time to run back to her place.
Why did I do all of this tonight?
I’m still not sure.
I’m not one of those guys who spoil random chicks all the time. I don’t want my money to attract them. The only other women I’ve taken shopping are my mom, my grams, and Stella.
Nate is in the kitchen with a drink in his hand when I walk in.
“Hey cuzzo,” he greets. “I saw the video. It’s fucking kickass. All of the chicks at work have been texting me asking if you’re coming to Emeralds to celebrate tonight. Ecstasy is your best album yet. Another Grammy is on its way. I’ll put my money on it.” His compliment is laced with pride.
“Let’s hope so,” I reply, opening up the wine cooler and grabbing the best bottle to start making us a drink.
“And your assistant …”
“Libby,” I say.
He snaps his fingers. “Yes, Libby. People have been asking me who she is. She’s definitely going to be getting a shit ton of attention from this. What made you chose her over a model?”
“It wasn’t planned. The model was a no-show. We had to improvise.”
“And she was happy to volunteer? You don’t think she’s doing all of this for her own benefit? You did have her sign a non-disclosure, right?”
“Libby is the last person I’m worried about. We had to practically beg her to do it, and I’m not sure if she’s even comfortable with it now. She hates the spotlight, but she did it for me.”
“She definitely picked the wrong dude to work for if that’s the case.”
We go quiet, our jaws dropping, when Libby comes strutting into the kitchen. She’s not trying to look like sex in heels, but fuck, she does. She looks phenomenal. I can feel my cock jerk in my jeans, and I notice Nate sliding his tongue in-between his lips.
The fiery red dress is sexy as fuck, yet modest at the same time. It clings to her thighs and flows out from there. It’s sleeveless, jewels line the neck, and the back is bare. Her hair is down and parted in the middle, a different look for her, and her lips are a bright red, nearly the same color as her dress.
Shit. I’m in trouble.
I don’t want to go to dinner anymore, unless she’s the main course. All I’m thinking about is flipping her over my shoulder, throwing her on my bed, and taking my sweet time undressing her.
“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” Nate says. My hand itches with the urge to punch him. I wanted to be the first one to compliment her. I want to be the only man who compliments her. “Where are you two headed?”
Libby nervously runs her hands down the length of the dress. “The video release dinner,” she answers.
Nate’s gaze swings to me. “There’s a release dinner?” I nod in response. “Am I invited?”
“Were you involved in the video?” He shakes his head. “Then no.” I don’t take Nate out with me much because he tries to get jobs and take selfies with anyone that’s famous. It’s annoying and embarrassing as hell.
“I have to work anyway,” he says, with a shrug. “So I wouldn’t want to go to your lame dinner, even if I were invited.”
“Cool. Have fun at work,” I respond. I grab both of the wine glasses and stalk over to her. “You ready to go?”
She starts to rummage through her purse and nods. “Yep, as soon as I find my keys.”
“You’re not driving.”
“Well, you’re sure as hell not driving. I have a feeling there’s going to be alcohol served, and you can’t be drinking and driving.”
“My driver is here.”
She stops to look up at me. “Why?”
“I have a feeling there’s going to be alcohol served, and you can’t be drinking and driving.”
“Smart ass. What am I supposed to do with the Jeep?”
“You have the day off tomorrow. I’ll make sure it’s back to your condo by the morning.”
I hand her the glass of wine and then gently tap mine against it. “Here’s to a good night.”
“Here’s to a good night,” she says, shyly, which is the cutest fucking thing.
“Let’s get going.”
I don’t miss the curious look coming from Nate when I rest my palm on the small of her back and lead us out the front door. My driver, Willis, is already here, leaning back against the SUV and talking with George, my bodyguard. I don’t always go out with George, but I have Libby, and I want to make sure she feels safe and secure.
“Hello Knox,” Willis greets, and I introduce Libby to both of them. He opens the door, and I slide in when Libby makes it into her seat and is buckling her seatbelt. George jumps into the passenger seat. Willis looks back at me after he starts the engine, and I give him the nod that we’re ready.
I scoot in closer to Libby. “You ready to make your big debut?” I ask.
“Debut?” she repeats. “Absolutely not. It was either I endure this or a conversation with Mia’s parents about faking an orgasm while you’re on top of me.”
I raise a brow. “Would you tell them you enjoyed it?” She slaps my arm but laughs. “This will be more fun, I promise. What I can’t promise is that you won’t be asked about the video. My phone has been going off all day with questions about you.”
I choose not to mention Stella texting me six times. The first one was to congratulate me on the success, probably trying to drum up conversation, and the following five had a hint of jealousy in them, especially since the media has put two in two together. They now know Libby is my assistant and the girl I left the club with.
“Mine too. People who haven’t talked to me since my dad’s whole situation are wanting to hang out now.”
“Welcome to the entertainment industry, sunshine. They love you when you’re up and snub you when you’re down.”
“The exact reason I try to stay away from it.”
I lean in closer, the intoxicating sent of her perfume drifting up my nostrils. She shivers when my lips go to her ear. “Will you kill me if I tell you how incredibly sexy you look right now?”
She levels her breathing before answering. I love that I have this effect on her. “Sexual harassment,” she whispers back.
“I didn’t know it was sexual harassment to compliment a woman, and you’re not my employee tonight. We’re celebrating the video you co-starred in. You’re off the clock and don’t have to lift one finger for me tonight, s
Her pouty pink lips part, and she bites into the bottom one. I want to pull it with my teeth and suck on it.
“Which entrance do you want to go through?” Willis asks, breaking us away from our connection. Bad timing, man.
I look out the window, noticing paparazzi everywhere. “The hounds are probably at both. We’ll use this one.”
George looks back at me from his seat. “How do you want me to handle this?”
“You stay with Libby. Make sure she gets in the building. I’ll be fine.”
He raises a brow. “You sure?”
“Positive.” I grab Libby’s hand in mine. “Stay with George. He’ll get you in there with no trouble. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.” She feels safe with me. I can tell.
George jumps out of the car and opens up her door. He stands over Libby, shielding the cameras from getting a good shot, and most likely pissing them off. They can get thousands of dollars for a good photo. She keeps her head down as she moves through the crowd, doing a decent job at dodging them.
I slide out of my seat and am right behind George.
“Knox! Are you and Libby an item?” a guy yells, a camera glued to his hand.
I have to hold myself back from flipping them off or pushing them away from me.
I’m pissed. This is supposed to be a celebration, not an interrogation. They’re ruining our night before it’s even started.
“Libby! Have you visited your father in prison?” another one asks.
“Has Knox visited him in prison?”
We rush into the restaurant that had been chosen because it thrives on privacy. Paps and reporters aren’t allowed in, and everyone on staff has to sign a confidentially agreement upon hiring.
I grab Libby around the waist and turn her around as soon as the door is closed.
She blows out a breath and brushes a few flyaway strands from her face. “I can’t believe they’re making such a big deal about us going to dinner with a group of people. They act like we’re walking into an orgy.”
George laughs at her comment. “Now that would be a kickass story.”
17
Libby
Dinner is in a private room in the back of the restaurant. There are at least thirty people in here, everyone from the producer to Knox’s management team, all celebrating the release.
Knox made a toast before the appetizers were served, thanking everyone for doing such a great job, and Thomas made the night even better by telling us the video has already hit twenty million YouTube views in one day.
I think I’m more shocked than anyone. People have watched Knox practically dry hump me twenty million times.
Which reminds me, I forgot to tell my dad. Oh fuck.
No one wants to hear about that from a prison inmate.
Everyone is not only congratulating Knox on the success – they’re also saying it to me. A few nosy ones have subtly tried to ask if we’re secretly boning or have some secret relationship going on, which is annoying.
I have Thomas on one side of me, Knox on the other, and am on my third glass of delicious champagne. I can feel the alcohol starting to work through me, making me feel more comfortable with everyone.
If all else fails, get wasted, and no one will intimidate you.
The drunk ones are always the most comfortable person in the room.
Thomas looks my way when I tap on his shoulder. “Did you tell my dad about the video?” I whisper.
“I did,” he replies. “I asked if you told him about the video you shot last time you visited, he said no, so I broke the news to him, you little chicken shit.”
I scoff. “I was waiting for the right time.”
“He’s in prison. There’s no right time.” He laughs. “And you’re happy I did it for you. Say thank you, and let’s move onto the dessert they’re about to serve.” He runs his hands together in excitement.
“Fine, thank you.” I am grateful he did the hard part for me.
My mouth starts to water, and I understand why Thomas was so excited for dessert when a chocolate cake drizzled with raspberry sauce and fresh strawberries is set down in front of me. I lick my lips, take the first bite, and swallow it down with a low, appreciative moan.
Knox dips his head down to whisper in my ear. “For the love of God Libby, please don’t moan like that or you’re going to kill me.”
“Why? It’s freaking delicious.” I look over at him, noticing the brooding look on his face. What the? I take another bite and moan again, louder this time, before swallowing it down.
A rush of heat bellows through me when he scoots his chair in closer. His warm, moist lips linger at my ear. “The more you moan like that, the more excited my cock gets.” A rugged laugh escapes him. “So go ahead, keep moaning, but FYI, you’re going to be the woman who has to walk out with the guy sporting a big ass boner.”
My fork bangs against the plate when it falls from my fingers. “Sexual harassment,” I hiss.
“You’re the one over here having an orgasm over a damn cake.”
“Me enjoying cake shouldn’t turn you on. You might want to see a doctor about that.”
“You’re right. You enjoying the cake doesn’t turn me on. Your moaning and that sexy ass look on your face is what’s turning me on. It’s hot as hell.”
My heart batters against my chest. “Then I’ll stop.” I pick up my fork and shove a giant bite into my mouth, sans moan. “Is that better?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t say I don’t enjoy the moaning. My only wish is that it was my cock you were moaning around instead of that cake.” I choke on my bite. Knox chuckles as he starts to pat my back. Asshole. “That’s not the only way I can cause you to choke.”
Is he kidding me?
I rest my hand against my chest, trying to settle myself down, and he grunts when I ram my heel into his shin.
“You okay over there?” Thomas asks, looking over at me in concern.
I nod, my body moving in sync with my head, as I try to regain my composure. Knox looks over at Thomas and leans back in his chair, making himself look innocent.
I bite into the edge of my lip in curiosity. I want to climb under this table and see if he’s actually sporting a boner, but I have a feeling people will think I’m a damn weirdo.
Which I am, considering I want to crawl around on the floor and go boner hunting in the first place.
“I think I’m going to head home,” I say, when I gain control of my breathing. “It’s been a long day.”
Knox tosses his napkin on his plate. “Me too. I’ll text Willis and let him know we’re ready.” He snags his phone from his pocket and rubs his thumb over the screen, unlocking it.
Thomas gives him a satisfied look. “I’m glad to see you’re deciding to stay out of trouble,” he says to Knox before looking my way. “I knew you’d be good for him.”
“Oh, she’s most definitely good for me,” Knox chimes in, texting on his phone.
Thomas must not pick up on Knox’s sexual innuendos because he slides his chair out and gets up. “I need to talk to a few people about business. Congratulations on the video again.”
“You don’t need to worry about taking me home,” I rush out as soon as Thomas is out of earshot. “I heard some people talking about an after party. I’m sure you don’t want to miss that.”
“I don’t give a fuck about an after party,” Knox says, flatly.
I open my purse and start to hunt for my phone. “You should. I’ll book an Uber or have Mia pick me up.”
“Why? I’m going home. You’re going home. Let’s conserve gas, save the environment, all that good shit.”
“Fine,” I groan. “But no more moan talk … or sex talk … or whispering in my ear.”
“Why do you like to take all the fun out of everything?” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear again. “Does that turn you on?”
I swat him away. “No!”
He chuckles. “Liar. If my tongue at your ear turns you on, you have no idea the other shit I can do with it, sunshine.”
I gulp.
I’m in big trouble.
“You want to stop and get a coffee or something?” Knox asks after we climb into the backseat of the SUV. He scoots in close, giving me no personal space, and relaxes his shoulder against the leather seat so he can look straight at me.
The paparazzi are still outside. They snapped shots as we made our way to the vehicle, but George did a great job of blocking them from me. I can still see the flashes coming our way, most likely trying to get a shot of us in here.
“I don’t think coffee at midnight is a good idea,” I answer.
His face falls. “Good point.” The ride goes quiet, with the exception of the radio softly playing in the front. “What about a movie? We can watch something at my house. I have access to every movie out there, even the ones that haven’t made it to theaters yet.”
I fake a long yawn. “I’m pretty tired. It’s been a long day.” I’m three glasses of champagne in, his words from dinner are still swirling through my head, and I can’t stop staring at him in that leather jacket. If I go back to his house, I’m not sure whose bed I’ll end up in tonight.
Therefore, my plan is to evade any situation where clothes can come off and sex can happen.
I suck in a deep breath when he rests his hand against the exposed skin of my thigh, right below the hem of my dress. He slowly starts to drum his fingers to the beat of the music.
“Are you sure?” he whispers. I scrape my teeth over my lips and nod. “You know us fucking won’t make you any less professional.”
“I beg to differ. Conflict of interest, buddy.” Not only is it unprofessional, but sex also complicates things. The whole strings attached idea never ends well.
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