by Ella Brooke
He shook his head. “I saw both girls come in and wait in front of your secretary’s desk. I mean, shit, Brandon, I’ve known you for the better part of three decades.”
“Yeah, make me feel more like fifty.”
“Forty-seven. God knows you never let me forget it and act like you’re fifteen.”
“Peter Pan is my role model.” I deadpanned. “What’s your point?”
“Selena’s hot—completely your type. I’m worried about you seeing her and thinking with your dick.”
“I’m perfectly capable of not thinking with my dick until this merger is finished. I know Orbit’s owners have set ideas about the right image for partners they align with. They’re just a little weird. Besides, my dick? Happily satisfied every night and with whoever I want.” I cracked my knuckles. “I’m not exactly hunting for a good time.”
Jonathan shook his head. “This girl’s a knockout. Just don’t fuck things up. I’ve spent eight months on this deal, and I don’t want one of your typical lapses in judgment to dick it all over.”
“I’m not some bastard who can’t keep focused.”
“Not exactly, but there’s a reason I’m here to keep you in line too. You remember the fountain incident three years ago?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t think we’d get caught.”
“Well, Rupert Martindale of Orbit has eyes and ears everywhere. So, interview this girl, rubber stamp it all you want, but don’t take a taste.”
“I’d never hurt Tammy like that. I mean, fuck. You’re making out like this girl’s a perfect ten.”
Jonathan whistled. “For your taste buds? She’s totally the perfect drug. Do you want me to sit in on the interview too? Just in case?”
“You have a teleconference with good old Martindale in ten, so I don’t think that’d help. Besides, you wouldn’t want to watch all the passionate, stupidly obvious sex I’m about to have.” Okay, so I was a little huffy, but I’m not some walking prick. I can handle my shit. Granted, a few times I’d overindulged or done crazy things publicly, but it had been years since the fountain incident and over five since that glass elevator and… Shit.
Jonathan did have a point.
I hated when he was right.
So, naturally, like the hardheaded idiot I was, I dug in.
“I can handle one little girl all by myself. Now send her in.”
***
I could admit it.
My ego had gotten me into roughly a metric fuck ton of problems in my life. Granted, the reason I was a damn brilliant CEO was because I had a great gut, surrounded myself with the best teams, and was just smart enough to jump back out of any mistakes I’d made, but my ego had driven me to dumbassery more than once. When Selena walked in the door, I knew exactly why Jonathan had been nervous. And why my dick was instantly hard.
She wasn’t dressed in anything less than utterly professional wear. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and she had a blazer, white blouse, and narrow skirt on. It wasn’t too tight, but it definitely hugged her curves in ways that made me want to clear my desk and take her right then and there. I crossed my ankle over my knee and told my little head to shut the fuck up. Would have helped if the blood wasn’t flowing like the Colorado River down to my cock. She was totally proper and prim, screamed “kid on her first interview,” and yet she was also rocking this naughty librarian vibe that my brain could not get over. Add in her olive colored skin, ample chest, and her sparkling hazel eyes, and she made most of the women I’d been seeing lately seem like fucking Quasimodos.
Idly, I wondered if the only reason this girl wasn’t into more than just writing about fashion was that at barely five feet, she could never model for anything. Too bad, because Selena was clearly a goddess.
A goddess who’s twenty-one at best, my daughter’s best friend, and just some college kid. Come on, don’t think with your dick again, man. Don’t give Jonathan the satisfaction.
And Jonathan was always the type who’d want to rub it in.
“Hello, Mr. Duncan. I really appreciate you meeting me on short notice.”
Her voice was hushed, and that struck me too. In fact, things started to actually pierce my attention, even through my lust-filled haze. She was saying all the right things as I took her hand and gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of my desk, but her eyes didn’t come close to looking at mine, and her voice trembled.
Did she even want to be here or had Tammy pushed her into it?
I frowned and quirked my head at her. “Why are you here, Miss?”
“Selena Cole,” she said. “I’m sorry if Tammy kind of threw this at you. I’ve… It’s just been a long day, already, and she decided this would be the best thing. I know that it’s kind of a fast pressure thing, but I have my portfolio with me.” She picked up her messenger bag and pulled out a bundle of papers. “I have some of the pieces I’ve written for the paper and some directly from the fashion blog I maintain. I also have a few pieces I’ve just edited for other students.”
I perused the articles. The ones for NYU were more about student affairs or even current issues and had a drier tone, but I was pleasantly surprised to find a sardonic edge to her fashion blog articles. The girl who’d written those pieces had spine, gumption. The girl before me, gorgeous as she was, seemed to lack that spark. As much as I cared about my daughter, I wondered if I was getting played. It just didn’t seem that the nervous girl in front of me, who frankly looked like her dog had just died, could be the same sarcastic wit behind these fashion pieces.
And no, I didn’t know shit about fashion, but I knew what made me chuckle.
What I liked.
Still, uneasy, I pushed the papers back to her. “I know that Tammy made big promises, and I confess what she’s told me about your training is encouraging. I went to NYU too, and I know they have some proud institutions, like their paper. Not just anyone’s going to be the lead editor on it.”
She frowned, a ridge emerging between her brows. “That tone doesn’t exactly say ‘Welcome to Swagger.’ ”
“No, it doesn’t. The truth is that dedication and training and talent are all things that matter, and they’re important. But so are instincts and attitude. My instincts are telling me that you can’t be the woman who wrote these pieces because, frankly, you look like you want to be anywhere else.”
“I want to be here!” she said. Something intense finally blazed in her eyes; a fire that made me take notice. It didn’t help make me any less hard either. “You have no right to cast judgment on me like this.”
“It’s a job interview. I have every right to question your dedication. I know Tammy, sometimes she stampedes into things. Her intentions are good, but she goes ahead even if someone hasn’t even signed off on it. These are long, hard hours. You’ll be doing fourteen-hour days all summer just like any regular Swagger go-getter. If you’re listless here, then I can’t help but assume that you’ll act like a zombie on the job.”
She shook her head and balled her hands up into fists at her sides as she paced. Considering the heels she’d put on to compensate for her short stature, I was pretty impressed. She definitely wasn’t the type to trip.
“How dare you. You know how much of a go-getter I am? I work every day, all day. I put myself through school and have loans coming out of my ass. I spend at least five hours all day, every day, working on the NYU paper and at least two on a blog with over five thousand subscribers. Sometimes I don’t sleep more than four hours a night. I love fashion, I know a hell of a lot about it, and if that’s not good enough for you, then I don’t know what is.” She was panting by the time she finished, and I couldn’t help but notice the way it made her amazing chest heave.
I’d been wrong.
There was passion there, lying just under the surface.
I stood up and circled around my desk. I couldn’t help but be moved by her outburst. Maybe I’d pushed her too far, but I’d seen something now; something that made me want her for more than
her banging body. She had something deep there, something hungry. I hadn’t seen a woman with that much raw hunger and dedication to her life’s passions in a long time.
It was like a burst of fresh air.
Striding over to her, I placed my hand on her cheek. Selena appeared startled but didn’t move away from me. Her skin was warm against my palm, and my heart raced. I wanted her, craved her already like a damn drug, but I was even more curious than I was desperate for her.
“What’s going on?”
“I think I get to ask that question,” she hissed. Still, she didn’t pull away from me. “You’re a terrible interviewer. Do you do that to all your employees?”
I leaned closer to her. I wasn’t even sure what the fuck I was doing. Maybe I could chalk it up later to some clichéd midlife crisis. All I knew was that there was something fierce inside of Selena calling to me, both her drive and something wounded deep. It felt familiar.
“You’re assuming you’re going to become an employee,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I was so close that my breath landed on her cheek. “Why were you so out of it when you got here? Do you want this job? After all, who are you really, Selena?”
She swallowed hard but kept her focus on me, seemingly refusing to back down. “I’m a damn fine writer and editor, and you’ll be getting me at a steal this summer. Now, did I get the job or not?”
I couldn’t resist anymore; not that I’d put up much of a fight. My cock was throbbing, and I wanted her; wanted to taste her more than I’d wanted practically anything else in my life. Then, my lips were on hers, my tongue probing her own. She tasted of strawberries and mint, both clean and fruity.
It took everything I had not to grind against her, not to take this any further.
She hesitated for just a moment as I continued but then her mouth opened wider and her arms wrapped around my shoulders. Selena was returning the kiss, her lips grazing mine, her tongue dancing with mine. The intensity built between us. My hand went lower, cupping her ass, and then she stilled.
Finally, she broke away from me.
Her eyes were wide as she stared back at me, dazed. “What… Oh, I never do that. This isn’t me. We were fighting and oh my God! Tammy is going to kill me.”
That killed my libido dead; my erection finally under some fucking control. Saying Tammy’s name was like having a gallon of ice water poured down my pants and smothering my cock. My shoulders went rigid, but I didn’t back away from Selena. I didn’t want to. Whatever was happening between us was something I hadn’t felt in years, and I wasn’t about to lose that now.
“It’s… Sometimes crazy things happen,” I offered, knowing I had to tread carefully.
“You had your tongue down my throat. I think that’s more than just a crazy thing,” she admitted.
“Look, your writing is excellent, and you argued your case. You have twenty-four hours.” I spun around coolly and headed back to my desk. It was a struggle to try and get a sense of equilibrium back into everything, but I’d been a cutthroat CEO for the better part of twenty years. And I’d fucking well better stay in control.
“What?”
“You have one day, Miss Cole. You can come back on Wednesday morning early and take that job, or you can leave it. I think it’d be in your best interest to take this opportunity, but it’s all up to you.” I took my seat and smirked back at her, working to retake control and the upper hand. “Are you really going to walk away from the job of a lifetime?”
Selena took in a sharp breath before she glared at me, that fire back in her hazel eyes. “You really think I’ll take the job after all of this?”
“Miss Cole, I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Three
Selena
I was shaking. After the day I’d had, that was the only thing I could do. After Mr. Duncan—God, after my best friend’s father had kissed me… Not just kissed me. His tongue had been deep down my throat, his hands roaming over my body, and I’d felt the heat of him flush against me. Brandon Duncan, the most powerful man in publishing, wanted me. That much was obvious. I could try and lie to myself—say that he took advantage of me and now the job offer was just a way to get fully in my pants. He’d been rude enough to me.
I sat on my bed. We’d come back from the interview, and I’d told Tammy what I could, said I had the offer, and did not mention that I’d be turning it down tomorrow. She’d want to talk me into it, but there was no way I could, no way that I could risk any of this. What if Brandon… um, Mr. Duncan, tried again?
Do you want him to?
No, I couldn’t think like that.
I could not.
My best friend, the closest thing to family I had, was his daughter. I didn’t want to start my career out like this, and it was too much. I’d been upset. There was the complete exhaustion, and shock, from what Kevin had done to me. Then Mr. Duncan had the audacity to say I didn’t want this too; that I didn’t even want my dream job. Sorry if I was acting like a zombie when my heart was broken, and I was humiliated. It didn’t seem to stop Duncan from digging into me. Then the fight and the kiss.
Dear lord that kiss!
How did I even go from screaming at him to having his lips on mine?
I shivered again and leaned back against the headboard. It was only through intensive persuasion that I’d been able to get Tammy to go out with her mom without me. I promised her we’d celebrate this weekend, which was a huge lie, considering I had to turn the job down tomorrow. I couldn’t even explain to Tammy why I couldn’t do this. How do you tell your best friend that you were kissing her father?
And that you liked it.
“Damn it,” I swore under my breath.
That was the problem. I liked it. I loved the way he’d made me feel, the way I’d gotten wet for him so fast, the fact my heart had fluttered a million miles an hour, the way my breath had hitched… All of it. I’d been shocked, at first, but I wanted him. Jesus, the worst thing about all of this was that I was attracted to him too. I’d been alone in my room for almost thirty minutes, and the only thing I could do was think about him, that hint of cinnamon on his breath in my mouth, and regret that I couldn’t have gone further.
Walking in on Kevin must have broken my brain.
If this had happened yesterday, I’d have said no in a hot minute. But it hadn’t. And it was nice for once to feel wanted, to have such a powerful man who knew exactly what he wanted— to kiss me. Plus, there had been something else; something lingering between us. I’d never been kissed like that by anyone in my life, never felt that depth of a connection. A huge part of me wanted more, but that wasn’t something I was allowed to have.
Not unless I wanted to break my bestie’s heart, and be a publishing world punchline before I even had my byline.
Sighing, I surged to my feet and headed to the bathroom. A cold shower would help; it would have to do. Anything else was crazy.
***
The door opened.
I sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. The silhouette wasn’t Tammy’s tall, thin frame. No. The light from the hallway, what dim amount there was, cascaded over the shoulders and broad body of someone else.
I stilled, and my mouth grew dry. I wasn’t sure what to do. It was possibly Tammy had got home in the early hours with a date who’d accidentally mistaken my bedroom for the bathroom. But then the stranger sauntered into my room and my jaw dropped. It wasn’t a new guy in Tammy’s life. No. It was Mr. Duncan. He was dressed in a pair of loose fitting slacks and a dark-hued silk shirt with a button or two undone at his neck.
The dryness in my mouth stopped, and perhaps nuts as this was, my clit throbbed and my pussy grew wet. I’d wanted him since that kiss, which had deepened between us earlier in the day. I’d been thinking about him obsessively, even in the shower. Now he was here as if I’d conjured him from thin air.
“Is this real?” I asked.
He strode into the room, moving with the agility of a jungle cat, an
d it took every bit of self-control I had to keep my fingers from reaching for my clit; to massage the bundle of nerves that seemed electro-charged, yearning for his touch.
“Does it matter?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made my panties wet.
“No,” I replied.
At that moment, I meant it. I didn’t care if this was a dream or a hallucination. I didn’t care if he’d come to me in real life, completely out of nowhere, to make my fantasies a reality. After how much I’d tossed and turned thinking about Mr. Duncan—about Brandon—and now he was here.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
He smirked, a look that should have been outlawed, and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Heat flared through my body, my pussy throbbing more with need and desire, the thin cotton of my panties soaked through. God, he was gorgeous. Even at close to fifty, he was a total Adonis. As he let the shirt fall from his shoulders, the light of the moon hit his chest and torso. It illuminated his abs in startling relief, and I wanted to lick and trace secret patterns over the ridges with my tongue.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
I swallowed hard. “For me.”
“Yes,” he said, a simple declaration without an ounce of doubt in it.
I assumed that was how Brandon always treated things, and how he’d grown such a powerful company. He never had to apologize, never had to be unsure. He was the master of his universe, of all he owned or wanted to own. How great that must be for him.
“What if I don’t want you to be here?” I challenged.
He chuckled as if my naiveté were a joke. “No one ever says no to me. I know you’re the same. Besides, I want to savor you right now. Taste every inch of you first. By the time I finish, you’ll be screaming for more, begging me to shove my cock deep inside of you and fuck you harder than you ever have been before.”
I blushed and was glad for the darkness shrouding my side of the room. “I’ve never had sex before.”
His smirk widened as he drew near the foot of my bed. Brandon crawled over it like a lion stalking over the savannah for his prey. His body was over me now, the heft of him, as he pinned my wrists to the mattress, the ridge of his hard cock grinding into my hips even with his slacks on.