Lahat ng Kabanata ng Resisting The Playboy's Charm: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Evans2:45 AM.It's so dark in the bedroom that I can barely make out the body of the woman lying before me, spread out as I hold her ankles.I can only see her by the light from the alarm clock on my nightstand, big, red numbers.For two in the morning, she's being far too loud."Quiet," I remind her, sliding a hand under her ass to flip her onto her stomach. She moans as I do that, as if she didn't even hear me. I want to add her name to the reprimand, but to be honest, I don't even remember what she told me.Kaitlyn? Catherine? Katie?Something along those lines. It doesn't really matter. After all, this is the only night I'm planning on sharing with her.I grit my teeth, positioning myself behind her. There's no sense in taking things slow, savoring the foreplay. She's already wet, and I've been hard for a while, craving the release of an orgasm. I'm not exactly trying for romance, here.Of course, she starts to moan even more the second I'm inside her, so I remind her a second ti

EvansI usher the last candidate, a slightly older woman with a stooped posture, into my home office, guiding her to the plush chair in front of my desk.I've spent the entire day interviewing nannies with little success, so my hopes aren't exactly high as I walk around my desk to begin this final interview.My assistant set up the appointments, but I insisted on conducting the interviews myself. I need to find someone good. There's no point in hiring a nanny just to regret the choice later. I'm already going out on a limb with the whole process, so I want to do it right the first time.As we sit down, I say, "So. Before I ask you about yourself, let me explain a little more about the position.""Absolutely," she says, her voice crisp. She holds her handbag in her lap, her ankles crossed and posture stiff."I mostly just need some general help raising Archer. I spend a lot of time working, and don't always have the time to devote to keeping an eye on him. I'd need help with his meals,

EvansShe's... interesting, this stranger who just stopped on the sidewalk to give Brandon a toy. She very effectively stopped his crying, that's for sure. And I'm grateful for that. I don't have enough understanding of kids to be able to reason with Brandon when he's distressed, and it hurts to see him so upset.Now that I have the chance to look her in the eye, I'm also a little taken aback by how attractive she is. She has delicate, soft features, and in the glinting rays of sunlight that creep through the clouds above, her brown eyes glow like honey. Her dark brown hair is pulled into a messy bun, flyaways poking out in all directions."What's your name?" I ask her."I'm Carol.""Evans." I hold out a hand to shake hers. Her handshake is surprisingly firm for someone who just did a fake voice for a plastic dinosaur. "Nice to meet you.""You, too," she says. "Do you live around here?"Sheepishly, I point to my house, directly next to us. We didn't get far on our walk before things w

CarolinaI get off work at eight on Thursdays, which is much better than the days when I'm expected to stay and close. Since I've got plans tonight, I do my best to get out of the restaurant as quickly as possible."You need anything else from me?" I ask my manager, who's calculating the tips in the point-of-sale system.She barely looks up at me. "No, you're good. Thanks for all your hard work."I'm out of there in the blink of an eye, before she—or anyone else—can change their mind. Sometimes, the guys on the line will stop me before I can get to the back door, asking me to help with their cleanup. Even though it's not my responsibility, I usually try to help them, but tonight, someone's waiting on me.I untie the little black apron from my waist as I walk down the street, wadding it into a ball and tucking it into my purse. Everything in there will probably smell like grilled food later tonight, but I tell myself I'll clean it out later. Smelling like food after a long shift is one

CarolinaAfter window shopping for a while with Olivia the next day, we say our goodbyes, and I head home. Back in my apartment, I lounge on the couch for a while, staring at Evans's business card. My fingertips trace the embossed letters. I can't help but wonder if this is all an elaborate prank; what if I call him and end up on some radio show?Eventually, I dig my phone out of my pocket, sigh, and type in the number on the card. It rings three times before Evans picks up."Evans Armstrong," he says. It's a short greeting, almost cold."Evans? Er—Mr. Armstrong? I mean... sorry, um, Mr. Armstrong." I kick myself for the clumsy opening. In my head, I've been calling him Evans, but there's something very official about the business card and the way he answered the phone that reminds me that this is a professional relationship."Yes?" I can practically picture his arched eyebrow. He sounds thoroughly unamused."This is Carol Winters. You came by my apartment a couple of days ago to offe