Elena's parents used to pay for everything; now they are gone, she finds herself at the brink of destitution, and quite close to being evicted, too.
Her superficial friend Cherry comes up with one unexpected w ay out: her step brother owns some club always on the lookout for new talents, and she offers to introduce them.
One look and Clark knows he can’t employ Elena. He wants her, bad, so becoming her boss isn’t an option. However, there’s a lot of things he’s willing to pay for…
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One desperate college girl, one spoilt brat, her step-brother, a billionaire with a screw-up sense of right and wrong… Yep. It’s hot.
Read an excerpt:
She was concentrating on her footing, hoping to avoid catching her heels on the carpet, when she bumped into the person in front of her.
Her head rose up, taking in large shoulders under a dark suits, before stopping on that face.
Fucking hell.
Arthur was hot. Ben Affleck was hot. The guy in front of her? He was point blank the sexiest man on earth; no exaggeration, no contest.
The hair was dark, dirty blond, the smirk, wicked, definitely up to no good, and those green eyes had been designed to melt panties; especially when they were looking straight down at a female, like they were right now.
“Ah, Clark, here you are,” Cherry said from behind her. “That’s a total zoo here. I hope you haven’t let any of the rats in?”
“You or I wouldn’t have nearly as much in the bank if it wasn’t for journalists, dearest,” the man replied, never looking away from Elena. Then, he offered his hand, introducing himself as Clark Turner.
Her potential boss.
he was fucked.
♥
Clark’s eyes drifted to his step-sister, holding a question. He really, really hoped the woman in front of him wasn’t the “bore” he was supposed to employ as a favor.
Because he couldn’t. There were no circumstances under which hiring this woman might have been acceptable. None.
“Elena,” she replied after a slight delay. “Elena Meadows.”
Elena Meadows was a wet dream wrapped in a ribbon. Quite literally: her elegant beige dress was gathered under the bust by a long black band of silk he wanted to undo. Slowly. With his teeth.
Those big doe eyes and the plump red lips did something to him; one look and he was all but ready to push the fabric hiding her flesh aside and sink inside. He wanted to fuck her, hard. The shy blush made him want to do it his way, too: in front of everyone.
However, he was working right now, so it was quite out of the question. As dear Cherry had pointed out, there were plenty of journalists around; they’d have a field day. The CEO of Turner Entertainment certainly knows how to entertain.
This was also the reason why he couldn’t hire her. It didn’t matter how minor the role he gave her was: it wouldn’t work. He’d destroy her and her reputation, finding reasons to pop in while she was on duty and screw her right on her desk while she typed letters up, because it was the kind of man he was.
So he couldn’t give her a job; he could, however, give her quite a few orgasms to make up for it.
Later, he swore to himself.
Three hours, four at most, and everyone he needed to meet would be drunk enough for him to be able to slip away.
“Enjoy your evening, ladies, Arthur,” he said, walking away to greet some irrelevant guest.
He just needed to get away before he did something foolish.
Clark couldn’t help the compulsion; soon, he was turning back towards her.
He found her staring at him, still blushing, evidently appreciative. Her cheeks changed to an even brighter red when he caught her, and she looked down. Clark guessed she’d be the same shade when his dick would fill her over and over again.
Three hours. Two, if he could wing it. Then, they had important business to attend to.
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