Mag-log inJason reached out and hooked his finger under my chin, gently tilting my face up until I was forced to meet his eyes.“You’re better than this,” he said softly. “You know you are. This isn’t helping you heal. It’s just reopening the wound every single day.”My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. My lips trembled and I had to look away because his kindness was somehow harder to bear.“I know,” I whispered, and my voice cracked completely. “I know, but-”Jason pulled me into his arms before I could finish, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other wrapped around my waist. I sank into him, my hands clutching the back of his jacket as a single tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. “You’re going to get through this,” Jason murmured against my hair. “I promise you’re going to get through this. But you have to let yourself actually heal instead of picking at the wound.”I nodded against his chest, not trusting my voice.“Alessandra?” A voice echoed from the distance and I w
I knew I shouldn’t be here. I knew this was unhealthy, borderline obsessive behavior but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.It has been three days since I started this ritual. I would park here at drop off time, watching from a distance, and torturing myself.Each morning I told myself it was the last time yet I find myself back here every morning, gripping the steering wheel tightly.The familiar black BMW pulled into the parking lot, and I leaned forward in my seat, watching as the car found a spot near the entrance. The driver’s door opened first, and Jaime stepped out, the passenger door opened next and my breath caught.Laura emerged, her golden hair catching the morning sunlight like she was in a shampoo commercial. She’s wearing a designer jeans and a silk blouse that complimented her skin.My hands tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.Laura walked around to the back door and opened it, leaning in to help the kids out. She crouched down to Sara’s leve
JASON’S POVThe server set down the bottle and two glasses, then quickly retreated.The dancer stood near the door, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. I could tell she was new. The experienced ones knew how to play the game. This one just looked scared.It was perfect.I poured myself a generous amount of scotch and took a long sip, watching her over the rim of my glass. “Sit.”She hesitated.“On my lap,” I clarified, patting my thigh.She moved forward stiffly and perched on my leg, her body rigid, still not looking at me.I set down my glass and touch her face, tilting it toward mine. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a slum like this?” I asked, my thumb tracing her jawline. “You could do so much better and I can help with that, you know. I’m Julien James, you’ve probably heard of my family. We own half this city.”She nodded without a word, clearly wanting to be anywhere else.“I could set you up somewhere nice.” My thu
JULIEN’S POVThe pulsing bass of the club reverberated through my skull like a jackhammer. I loosened my tie as I walked through the entrance, and the bouncer who nodded in recognition. The sound should be overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to the muscle twitching behind my left eye.Briggs, the club manager, spotted me immediately and rushed over with a smile plastered across his face. “Mr. James! It’s far too long, sir. We’ll make sure you’re well taken care of tonight…”I could barely hear him over the music. My eyes scanned the main floor, going to the elevated stage where three dancers twisted around the pole. The brunette on the left caught my attention. I licked my lips at her long tan legs and full breasts. I pointed at her. “Bring her to my suite and my usual bottle.”Briggs’s eyes widened. “Her? But sir, she’s currently working the main floor. We have other girls who are available right now-”I turned to look at him directly, and raised a brow. “Are you really tryi
Patricia chimed in. “But aren’t we putting too many eggs in one basket? If Meridian fails, we’re stuck.”“The contract includes an exit clause if they fail to meet agreed upon standards for two consecutive quarters,” I explained, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “We’re protected.”But Richard had recovered now, and he scoffed loudly. “Protected legally, perhaps. But what about our reputation? The moment consumers find out we’re partnering with a company that was involved in corruption we risk being associated with that scandal. Is that really a risk worth taking for marginally cheaper shipping?”“It’s not marginal… it’s a forty-three percent reduction-”“In an industry where public perception is everything,” Richard talked over me, “even the appearance of impropriety can be damaging. I move that we table this proposal indefinitely until we can explore partnerships with more reputable logistics companies.”“I second that,” Thomas added immediately.The room erupted into
I was standing outside the conference room, taking deep breaths. It was a technique my therapist taught me years ago, back when panic attacks were a regular occurrence.I nodded to myself, squaring my shoulders. I could do this. I grabbed my files from the side table where I had set them to collect myself, and Lisa cleared her throat.“Are you ready?”“Yes.” My voice came out stronger than I felt, which was good enough.Lisa opened the heavy door, holding it for me and I stepped inside, my eyes sweeping across the room.The board members were scattered around the long table, some were reviewing documents on their tablets, and others engaged in quiet conversation. My father’s seat at the head of the table was empty and Carl Thomson was also absent.My stomach dropped, there were the only two who actually supported me. It seemed I would have to handle this alone.Julien sat in our father’s chair, leaning back and when our eyes met, something flickered across his face.“I apologize fo







![Wicked Pleasures [Steamy Short Stories]](https://acfs1.goodnovel.com/dist/src/assets/images/book/43949cad-default_cover.png)