AIDENOn Saturday mornings, I typically picked up doughnuts and coffee and drove over to my old neighborhood to spend some quality time with my little brother. He wasn’t related to me by blood. I’d hooked up with this mentor program a few years ago when I was profiled in a few local papers as a local boy made good.They’d paired me up with Carl O’Donoghue, a local boy determined to make bad. He made sure I knew that the doughnuts were the only reason he waited for me on the front steps of his run down rowhouse every Saturday morning. He called me big bro like he was spitting it between his teeth. Maureen gave me shit about bringing doughnuts instead of something with actual nutritional value, but Carl had a stomach curdling habit that involved chewing tobacco for breakfast, so I figured doughnuts were a step up.This morning, he was sitting on the bottom step, looking rough and hard and about as tough as a couple of matchsticks. An ulcerous splinter. He glared at me when I pulled up a
“Yeah, kid. Let’s get you some shoes.”Shoes, it turned out, were Carl’s gateway drug. Once he had shoes, he wanted jeans, and then a shirt. He was as tightly guarded with these desires as I was with mine, but I recognized them, and he got the fucking jeans and shirt. And then he was so jacked up on excitement and uncertainty that I managed to buy him a burger.He tore through it in a few bites, then leaned back. He was staring at me with an expression I recognized. Complete distrust. Why the hell was I doing this? What did I really want? Couldn’t be his mom, he could tell she wasn’t my type. Was I getting some sort of good press for this shit? He doubted it. It wasn’t like I was famous or anything. Was I a pervert? If so, I’d done a damn good job hiding it over the last few months.Basically, the same thought process I’d gone through when I was in his position and Jack was the one buying the burgers.“I want to talk about school,” I said, sensing that between the bags at his feet and
LAYLAIwanted to be irresistible on Monday morning, but I overthought it and changed my outfit so many times that Liv came out of her room to see what the hell I was doing banging my closet door open and shut so many times. Then, after the outfit was finally sorted, I almost forgot my lunch.“You look great,” she insisted, grabbing my lunch bag out of the refrigerator and stuffing it in my hands.I was wearing jeans, like everyone at the office did, but I was wearing heels and a tailored t-shirt, and I’d put my hair up because I thought it made me look older. More sophisticated. Something.“He kissed you,” Liv reminded me as she walked me to the door. Then, because she had nothing else to do since I’d woken her up before her alarm went off, she walked me down the hall to the elevator bank. “He told you he wants you. What are you worried about?”“That he won’t want meenoughto break his stupid rules.”Liv tapped her pointer finger on her chin and pointedly didn’t say anything. She didn’
But despite the glowing good looks, there was something about him that I didn’t like. It was impossible to put my finger on it. Maybe it was the way he dropped into his chair at the head of the table, lounging and indolent like he was one of the big cats he loved so much. I loved cats and their don’t-give-a-damn attitude, too, but the attitude hit different in a human being.He bestowed a shiny white, toothy smile on each of us in turn, but his glacier blue gaze snagged on me. “Hello,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you new here?”Maybe if it was high school, I would have giggled like he so obviously expected. Now, though, I just smiled and said, “Yes. I’m Layla Davis.”“Layla Davis.” He repeated my name, pronouncing each syllable with great care, like he was sounding it out. “Nice to meet you, Layla Davis.”The tension that had existed in Aiden from the moment he stepped into the conference room increased. It was nearly invisible, but I’d become an expert on Aiden in the past we
AIDENThe idle thoughts I’d had about firing Andrew suddenly felt quaint. I didn’t want to fire Blake–I wanted to dismantle him. It wouldn’t be murder because he wasn’t a real person. If I wasn’t seeing him in the flesh, I’d swear he was an AI bot. Dismantling was too much work. I wanted to just erase his code or pull the plug on the machine.But the problem was that Blakewasn’ta robot, AI or otherwise. He was real, and he was really looking at Layla like she was an ice cream cone and he’d just trekked across Death Valley. It would have been shitty if she’d returned the sentiment, but I could have handled it. What was worse was seeing her grow visibly more uncomfortable the longer the impromptu strategy session went on.“The nerve of the guy just showing up here,” I’d muttered to Maureen when I found out about his decision to drop by unannounced. I’d been irritated, but as the minutes ticked on, I was becoming closer to enraged.Blake was up out of his seat, circling the table. He was
Not to do what she was implying, though God knew I wanted that so much I could taste it. “I don’t want you on the Blake Morten account,” I said abruptly, deciding there was no good way to ease into that conversation. “I know Maureen wants this to be your trial run, but I think it’s a bad idea.”“My trial run?” Annoyance threaded Layla’s voice. She pushed her auburn hair back over her shoulder and frowned. “You do remember that I’ve already done this for two years in LA.”“I remember, but PR and Brand Development aren’t synonymous.”“Yeah, but it’s not about the work is it?” Now Layla sat down. She crossed her long legs. “It’s about Blake himself.”Following her lead, I lowered myself into my own chair. “Yeah, it is,” I said frankly. “I can tell by the way he acted with you in the meeting that he’s going to be a problem.”“And you think that in my two years in PR in LA, I didn’t learn to handle guys like Blake?” Layla’s voice was silky with confidence. She smiled privately, as if remem
LAYLAI didn’t have a plan exactly. More of an idea of a plan. An outline of an idea, anyway. Basically it was to put myself in Aiden’s way as often as possible until he gave in. Ironically, Blake made it easier for me. Aiden never followed through on his threat to take me off the account, and Blake never got the hint that we didn’t need to meet with him every other day, so I saw a lot of both of them.“I’m surprised Aiden is putting up with it,” Gloria mused one evening when it was just the core group of us staying late. We’d had to rearrange our schedule due to one of Blake’s unscheduled drop ins, so now the five of us were back in the conference room with our laptops, eating pizza.“It’s obvious why.” Joe rubbed his thumb against his other four fingers.Gloria scoffed. She and Joe were dating, or something like it, but they still never missed a chance to disagree with one another. “Cross Media isthego-to marketing firm in Boston these days. Local magazines are always doing profiles
“No, I’ve got it.” I took them from him. “I forgot something at my desk anyway.”“Do you want us to wait for you?”I hesitated. I couldn’t say yes because my plan was to dump these empty boxes in the break room trash can and then confront Aiden. But did it look suspicious if I said no? Would they suspect? “No, I might hang out for a minute. My roommate is coming to meet me for a drink at a bar nearby,” I lied.They accepted it without a flicker of skepticism. “A drink sounds good,” I heard Joe suggest to Gloria as they walked down the hallway toward the elevator with William.“I’m tired.”I felt a moment’s pity for Joe, then my heart kicked into overtime. I was about to be alone in the office with Aiden, which was something I’d tried to engineer before, but these weren’t ideal circumstances. I couldn’t focus on seducing him–I had to confront him over this Blake Morten situation first.As I walked through the office with the pizza boxes in hand, I heard him talking in his office. At fi
He’s a coward.Anger rises in me again, and I reach my drink and take it to my lips.I’m enjoying it when I see Charles walk up to me. He’s told me he’d be working with his team until late on a small gathering they’re throwing the next day for people of the trade. I wave at him, and he comes to my table with a determined expression, and long strides like he knows what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for.My gut clenches. Something isn’t right.Was Dan an ass to him too, on the way back? Did Dan say anything bad about Whitney?Or did a bastard like me do something bad to Whitney?Like fuck her, again and again? I feel color draining from my face, and when Charles gets on the table with a disappointed look on his face, I already know it.“You jerk! I trusted you all those years. My daughter, really?” Charles says, flushed.My throat is dry and tight.Somehow he found out, and denying it will only make him angrier.Guilt crawls its way into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. How can I
Maddox“And this is where guests and locals come for drinks and music,” I say, gesturing as we emerge into the club. I see quite a few more patrons than the past few weeks, which shows me that Whitney’s efforts have worked. We’ve had more visitors and increased sales. Always a plus.I’d be a lot happier if it weren’t for the company.My body is still stiff, as I had to go through an entire dinner with Dan Walters who happens to be almost as annoying as he is misogynistic. I guess it’s been a while since I last sat through a meal with the guy. We’re not friends, and I’ve met him in social events and basically small talked.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and say maybe the reason why he’s been talking about women nonstop and not under the best light is because of his divorce. Maybe he’s broken, and feels more powerful if he’s bragging about all the pussy he’s getting.But the cynical part of me knows better.This guy is a certified douchebag, and I hope Astrid can get a good
WhitneyI strideinto the hotel lobby.Right now, Dan Walters the politician should be having dinner with Maddox. Maybe dinner is already over and they’re touring the hotel. Astrid is there in the club, ready to snap a couple of pictures as planned, and then send it to a gossip columnist friend of ours.If this was another client, I wouldn’t be here. My presence isn’t required since Astrid is here, as per her text.But I am shamelessly using every excuse in the book to be around Maddox, to see him more often, to spend more time with him.Ever since our ax throwing date, I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come. From him avoiding me for years to hinting about having children together one day. Who would have thought?A ball of joy rolls inside me, like a bowling ball running down the lane. Striking out.I add a little bit more pep to my step, and my goal is to pass by the restaurant and see them without introducing myself. But before I make it there, I almost bump into them, with b
Maddox“Your turn,”she says, handing me the ax.I hold the weight of the tool, and clasp it. This is the first time visiting an ax throwing joint, and if at first the idea seemed silly at best, now I’m actually enjoying myself. Then again, why wouldn’t I? For the past few days, we’ve been together non-stop, or as much as our schedules allow.Still, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.I shoot the damn thing at the target, hitting it right at buzz’s eye. She squeals, cheering me on, then takes a sip of her beer.She’s invited me here because she needed to come for an appearance and check out the place, take some pictures, then post about it later. So even though this should technically be work, it’s still relaxing. At least, to me.Besides, I get to see how she fills those skintight jeans and plaid shirt she’s wearing. I’ve seen how a couple of men looked at her, and wanted to punch each one.Though I know she’s mine.Mine forever.A warm glow flows through me, spreading into my veins. Wh
“Maybe,” Maddox says, then clears his throat. “I hate to cut this short, but I have some phone calls I need to make soon.”“Oh, sure, no problem,” Dad says, then stands. We’ll leave you to it.”I hold the arms of the chair and am about to surge to my feet, when his gaze connects with mine and pins me to the spot.“I still have a question for you, Whitney,” Maddox says. “About the posting you’ll do later.”“Sure,” I say, and plop down on the chair again.Dad leaves and closes the door behind him.Quietly, Maddox stands and walks up to the door, and locks it. “You’re upset,” he says, picking a chair next to mine and sitting.I cross my legs, then uncross them and cross them again. “What? No,” I say in a hissy voice that betrays my words. I’m upset, and also embarrassed for being upset about him not acknowledging he’s seeing someone to my father. And maybe a tad jealous. What if Dad really tries to find him a date? My heart lurches. The idea of him with another woman gives me instant aci
“There you are,” my dad says, walking up to us, bursting that bubble.I withdraw as if I’ve been burned.“Hey, Dad,” I say in an extra chipper voice. “What’s up?”“Can we all meet at the conference room for a quick meeting? I have some news to share.”I have some too, I say inwardly.I slept with your best friend and can’t wait to do it again.A twinge of guilt twists at my heart, like the sharp end of a new blade. My dad doesn’t deserve to be hurt in all this, but would his hurt last? Besides the immediate surprise, would he really put up a long lasting fight against our relationship? I doubt it.Dad isn’t the typical father.He tends to be more open minded than most. Growing up, I always kept a channel of communication open with him. I confided in him about tiffs with friends, dates gone wrong, and when things started to happen for me as a digital influencer, he was my biggest cheerleader. He encouraged me and my dreams.The thoughts keep me busy as the three of us walk through the h
Whitney“How’s everything?”I ask the table of six influencers who were carefully curated for this lunch. Two of them, Rick and Ashley, are successful foodies and post about restaurants and the food scene in Texas. Then there’s Antoine and Ava, Claire and Kendall. Hashtag all-stars.“Oh, great. I’ve never been to this place,” Ava says, tossing her long brown hair to the side.“I have to say… I’m not a big fan of hotel restaurants in general,” Rick says, with his posh British accent. “But this one has surprised me so far.”“Excellent,” I say. “If you need anything, just let me know.,” I say, then turn around and walk away from their table.A thread of excitement works its way up my spine. I’m usually invested in my clients, as I love what I do. I love being able to highlight people’s talents or products and help them increase their visibility and profit. This time, though, I’m even more invested.Because of Maddox.I sigh.Two days ago, we had the most amazing date, and sex afterwards.
MaddoxI embraceher tightly against me, then pull the sheet over us. Our bodies are entangled, and she’s resting her head on my shoulder, her hand hovering on my chest and making little invisible patterns around my nipples.Her phone buzzes at the distance, but she doesn’t move an inch.“Do you need to get that?”“No. It’s Astrid probably reminding me of a place I need stop by later,” she says, and kisses my shoulder. A small gesture that only enhances this amplified intimate post-sex bliss. “Or asking where I’ve been.”I kiss the top of her head, and tendrils of relief course through me. I don’t want to let her go. Is it strange that now I get what she meant by saying she wanted to make the most of our time together? It’s not enough. Feels like whatever time I have with her, it’ll never be enough. Unless—She hums, the sweet sound yanking me from my thoughts. “I don’t think I can move anytime soon, anyway.”Pride swells in my chest, my male ego nicely massaged. I don’t want to move e
He gets the hint and plants kisses down my body, on my stomach, he nips my hips, then drags his mouth shamelessly between my thighs, and the second he breathes over my sex, I moan, already knowing what’s to come—me. Pretty soon.With a masterful swish of his tongue, he tastes me, exploring every inch of me with an eagerness that causes me to shudder in response. This time, he’s even more eager than he was at the restaurant. It’s like the more he tastes, the hungrier he gets.“Yes,” I hiss.He continues his teasing exploration, relentless, until tendrils of pleasure swirl through me, and I let go. Pleasure rockets through me, and I call out his name in a long winded moan, my limbs sweaty, my heartbeat frantic. Damn.I’m still dazed when he rises from between my legs, his body covering mine, the warm intensity in his eyes quickly re-energizing whatever sexual fuel I thought I was emptied of a second ago.“God. You’re stunning,” he says, and there’s a vulnerability in his voice that’s al