Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection

by Monica Corwin

  “What’s up with you, man?” he asked me.

  “You know what’s up with me. You don’t touch my woman, especially not in such a disrespectful way and when she clearly didn’t welcome your touch.”

  “First thing, to begin with, I didn’t know she was your woman.”

  “You’re a liar. You did. You saw me coming out of her office earlier, and you also told me you’d seen us when we’d left the club. What part of that wasn’t clear to you? Did you need me to come to you with a written contract? You’d told me she was standoffish. What happened? Did she tell you off? So what were you trying to do, work on her sympathy?”

  “You’ve got to chill, man. I won’t talk to your woman again.”

  “It’s not about talking to her but what you say to her. And definitely, most definitely, you keep your hands off her.”

  “Okay, all right. Message received.”

  “It had better be. You get one chance with me. The next time you try anything with her, you won’t be walking home. Go play that game with your boys; don’t try it here.”

  “Man, you’d think you were married to the woman.”

  “You never know. Do you?”

  I had to get out of there to give Robyn a call. My adrenaline was still rushing through me. I had to cool down a bit. I returned to my office and began going through the file I’d collected on Robyn. It was a very comprehensive document. Everything I needed to know about her was there, from birth until present, including her time at the hospital fighting that infernal cancer. Squeezing my eyes shut, I relived everything that had transpired between us from the first time I’d met her until just now. I didn’t know she had been sick. I was such a bloody asshole.

  Cursing, I got to my feet, gathered the rest of the documents, and made my way to the garage. There was no sign of Levi; his vehicle was gone. I got into the Escalade and drove home. I needed a drink. I was still not able to call Robyn.

  When I got home, I turned on the fireplace and tossed the file I had on Robyn onto the flames and watched it sizzle until the last scrap had turned to ash. I slipped out of my jacket, loosened my tie, and poured myself a stiff glass of brandy, and then I settled on the living room couch. After the brandy had coursed through my veins, warming me as well as relaxing me, I dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to leave a message.

  “Hello, this is Robyn.”

  “Hello, Robyn. Do you know who this is?”

  “Of course I do. Don’t play games, Dean. It doesn’t become you.”

  “I’m not up to playing games. I need to see you; can I come over?”

  “To my home?”

  “Yes, where do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. But you don’t know where I live.”

  “I have a GPS. Just text me the address, and I’ll be there.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Never more so, darling.”

  ~~~Robyn~~~

  Darling! Does this mean what I think it means? He’s never addressed me with terms of endearment. I felt flushed. This man will be the death of me. He never ceases to amaze me. First flowers, then defending me, now darling. What’s a girl to think?

  “Okay, I’ll text it right away.”

  ~~~Dean~~~

  I heard the ping signaling the message while I was still talking with her.

  “Thanks, I’ll be there in a few,” I said and ended the call.

  I finished undressing and stepped under the shower. This would be the fastest shower I’d ever taken. Less than thirty minutes after I’d talked with her, I was ringing her doorbell.

  I didn’t know what I was going to say. I had no plan, which for me was a first. But I was going with my heart in my hand, and it was up to her if she accepted it. I didn’t have any aversion to begging her if I had to.

  ~~~Robyn~~~

  I don’t recall how I made it home. I was furious with Dean and his partner for putting me in that position. I was so wound up I forewent dinner and made myself a drink before trying to settle down to get some work done. I’d had such an interrupted day I’d hardly done any work. I was sitting in my bedroom watching the lights of the city on the horizon, still in my clothes, with piles of paperwork on my lap. I was exhausted but wound up tight. I pushed myself to keep working, trying to keep thoughts of Dean at bay. I never knew what to expect from him. He hadn’t been kidding when he admitted to being a very complicated man. A man I feared had my heart. How had it happened? I had no clue.

  I smelled like him, all musky and sexy, and I remembered how graphic he’d been in admitting he wanted to fuck me. My nipples tightened in arousal.

  Running a hand through my hair, I headed to the bathroom and turned on the water in my Jacuzzi tub. I poured in my favorite scent, jasmine and peony, to get rid of his scent that had me in a permanent state of arousal. I was thinking I wouldn’t mind having him make love to me again when my phone rang.

  When I heard he was coming over, I hurriedly put the documents I was working on away. I was suddenly hungry. I made myself a sandwich and had that before I went into the bathroom and turned off the water. I stripped down and was preparing to step into the tub when the doorbell rang. My heart lurched. It couldn’t be Dean already. I’d just spoken with him.

  I grabbed my white robe from the hook on the bathroom door, and tying it around me, I asked, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Dean.”

  I immediately became flushed at the sound of Dean’s voice outside my door. I opened the door. He was standing there, his hair still damp from his shower, and the look on his face as he saw me in the robe left me speechless. He had that effect on me with one look—just one look. That was all it took.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered. He looked good enough to eat.

  “I said I was coming over,” he told me.

  “Yes, but you didn’t tell me why.”

  “Are you going to invite me in?” His eyes were slumberous and veiled as they swept over me. I could always tell when he was aroused by the heaviness of his lids. His gaze swept over me, lingering at my chest, where my nipples had no doubt puckered, as they did every time he was near.

  I hugged myself to cover my near nakedness. “What‘s happening, Dean?”

  “I came to apologize and to talk with you. Can I come in?”

  I immediately stepped back, allowing him to enter.

  He walked in, and the dejected fall of his shoulders told me something was riding him. “I’m sorry, Robyn.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “Everything. The way I talked to you and made demands on your body as if you belonged to me. Now I’ve assaulted my partner in a fit of rage, although he deserved it.”

  “I’m a bit guilty too. I could have pushed you away, but I didn’t, so don’t go playing the martyr on me.”

  I’m not a martyr. I’m an arrogant asshole. I shouldn’t have reacted so violently to Levi.”

  “My, those are strong words.”

  “I know. I don’t blame you if you want nothing to do with me after this. I tried, but I couldn’t stay away from you. I couldn’t keep my hands off you, and to top it off, I blamed you for my lack of control. If I were honest, I’d admit that I was scared.”

  “You were scared? Of little old me?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know how to handle it. I’ve never been in love before, and I couldn’t identify the emotion for what it is. When I realized how upset I was when Levi was standing next to you, touching you, I saw red. And a voice inside me said, ‘MINE!’ I was going to kill anyone who tried to take you away from me.”

  “You love me? Really? Are you certain it’s not because you want to control me?”

  “I’m certain and hang the control. I believe I fell in love with you the first time I met you. I just didn’t know. I thought all I had to do was to fuck you out of my system, but the more I fucked you, the more I wanted you. I couldn’t even call it fucking. It affected me
in ways I’d not experienced before. Every time I thought I was fucking you, I was making love to you and pouring my heart and soul inside you, something I’d not done with any other woman before. I can’t seem to get enough; I am addicted to you.”

  I was speechless. This man had managed to surprise me again. “I have strong feelings for you too, Dean. But how do I know it’s not because I’m the new girl on the block?”

  “This isn’t ‘the new girl on the block’, Robyn. I love you and want to marry you. If you’ll have me?”

  I felt as if I was no longer standing, but I must have been because, the next thing I knew, we were in each other’s arms, kissing the hell out of each other.

  “I love you too, Dean, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Great. I know Mom will be happy when I tell her I’ve met the woman of my dreams and she has agreed to make an honest man out of me. And, yes, she’s controlling, and I love it!”

  “You are a silly man,” I told him, giving him a nip on the ear.

  “I see you have found my sweet spot and are using it to your full advantage.”

  “I’ve found your sweet spot? Tell me.”

  “I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you. Are you about to take a bath?”

  “Yes. What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m going to give you a bath that’ll leave you more dirty than clean. Lead me to your bathroom.”

  He was as good as his words. The things he did to my body will stay with me forever. And true to his words, when he was done, I had to step under the shower to clean up. What a joke. Who cleans up after a bath? Only control freaks like me and Dean.

  Although the way he put it, control gave way to love, and of the two, he loved love better. I agreed.

  Epilogue

  ~Robyn~

  Dean and I have been married for six months, and what a whirlwind six months it has been. We bought a home close to his mom’s so we could walk over to visit each other anytime. No need for vehicles.

  His mom likes that Dean is so close to her and has made the most of our standing invitation to come over any time she wants. I have to admit she has never visited without calling first. She claims she doesn’t want to walk in on us unannounced and check on us with our pants down. She has no idea how close to the truth that is because we still can’t seem to get enough of each other. I’ve concluded we are both addicts… addicted to each other, that is. I tell Dean every time he brings it up there are worse things we could do.

  His mom is still fighting the panic attacks, but it has gotten better. She no longer needs a live-in companion and is able to get in her car and visit Dean whenever she has a craving for a crab sandwich.

  She was beside herself when she had her first meeting with me and declared that I was a match for her son indeed. Dean doesn’t stand a chance against the two of us, and now that she will soon be getting the grandbabies she wanted, she’s ecstatic. She’s getting two instead of one. At the rate Dean and I are going at each other, I am surprised we are only having twins and not quadruplets. Sometimes, after one of our especially energetic sessions, I can feel the babies moving as if they know what he just got through doing. I tell Dean, but he only laughs at me and accuses me of trying to control the babies in my womb.

  He’s just jealous. He would control them if he could, but this is my domain, and I’m in control all the way. He just has to stand back and watch what I eat, wear, or do for exercise, the whole nine yards. He has no say. I don’t know how the situation will hold up when the babies arrive; but in the meantime, I’m in control.

  We are getting ready to meet his mom for dinner, and we have an hour… if I could get Dean to allow me to get dressed. I don’t want to be late. He claims he can’t seem to keep his hands off me. He’s just an addict, that’s all, but he’s my addict.

  My time at DL&J ended as it began, without a lot of fanfare. Shortly after Dean and I married, I handed in my resignation. I do visit him at work occasionally, anytime I want to be bad and do things with him in my old office, which has remained vacant.

  It’s the greatest experience to enter his office all prim and proper, and after a couple of hours of office play with my husband, to walk out looking and feeling totally different. Almost as if I’ve lost all control.

  About the Author

  Ju Ephraime is the author of forty romance novels that have been published in several different languages. In 2011, one of her novels, White Magic Woman, seconded in Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel contest. After graduating from Northeastern University with a doctorate in higher education in 2011, she published her first novel, State Of Ecstasy, the first in her LaCasse series. Her books have made Amazon’s bestseller list several times. Her books have won several awards, as recently as 2017, her book, I Will Follow To Eternity And Beyond, won gold from the famous, Readers’ Favorite. Ju lives in Connecticut with her partner in crime and her dog, Gus.

  Three CEOs for Valentine’s

  Liz Gavin

  Three CEOs for Valentine’s © copyright 2018 Liz Gavin

  Edited by Midnight Library Book Services

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Three CEOs for Valentine’s

  They thought a joint venture would be risky, until they met Jenny.

  Fighting gaping debts and hostile takeovers proved a stroll in the proverbial park for Derrick Welch, Bryant McKinney, and Mitch Brewer after they partnered to launch Sexy & Sinful Spa & Resort. The riskiest business lay ahead. Steamy bedroom games featuring their curvy general manager made for a welcoming distraction, but one that could cause them their companies.

  When medical expenses threatened Jenny Taylor with bankruptcy, she searched for a second job. She never expected her life to be turned upside down by her new bosses. Drop-dead gorgeous men didn’t intimidate her. At her other job with Club Desire, she catered to the most demanding men and women: New Orleans’s referral-only private club’s clientele. But Derrick, Bryant, and Mitch took seduction to a whole new level.

  They thought one debauchery-filled Valentine’s night would be enough, only to discover they craved a lifetime together.

  1

  The Interview

  The upbeat rhythm of “The Saints” drifted in through the closed bedroom window, followed by cheerful clapping. Some street performers would take home a couple of extra bucks, not a rare thing in the tourist-packed French Quarter.

  Pushing those thoughts away, Jenny Taylor tried on a professional smile in the mirror as she smoothed the dark-blue pin skirt reaching her calves. A matching dark-blue jacket in stark contrast to an ivory silk top and a pair of two-inch Mary Janes completed the demure outfit. She cringed at her reflection. A far cry from the casual clothes she preferred to wear, lightyears distant from her night job attire. At Club Desire, she favored leather accentuated by metal studs and sky-high pumps that highlighted her ass and made her shapely legs longer.

  A dominatrix look could boost her self-esteem, and God only knew an extra dose of confidence could aid her nail her upcoming job interview. Jenny doubted that the New Orleans Housing Authority’s dress code allowed for ultra-short, leather miniskirts.

  She couldn’t afford to screw up that opportunit
y after calling in so many favors.

  Yet bankruptcy lurked in the shadows of Jenny’s future. Her mom’s medical bills hit Jenny’s bank account every week. Cancer treatment did not come cheap.

  She was all her mom had, though. Them against the world, that was how it had always been. Jenny’s turn to beat the monsters now. She wouldn’t let her mother down.

  Spine straight as an arrow, one last glance at her image confirmed her shoulder-length black hair hadn’t strayed. Makeup in earth tones drew attention to her blue eyes and high cheek bones. On her way out of the apartment, she grabbed a designer handbag from the table by the door.

  Although Club Desire compensated their employees with lavish paychecks, her mom’s recent diagnosis had depleted her bank account. At times, not having options worked as encouragement. So, all the way to the New Orleans Housing Authority headquarters, Jenny envisioned possible questions during a job interview, rehearsing responses. It was a good thing the Uber driver was not the chatty type.

  The concrete and glass two-story building, not much different from any other public building, housed the best shot at a solution to Jenny’s financial difficulties. The automated door slid open, and she stepped inside, trying not to freak out, and inhaled deeply. Warmth from a central heating system at full blast swaddled her like a treasured memory. Fueled by the comforting sensation, she allowed herself to hope as she greeted the front desk clerk with a genuine smile.