The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair #1)(21)

My hands curl into fists as if I can hold my faltering calm together with a tight enough grip. Anger bubbles up from the vault of emotions I keep securely locked at all times. I thought I’d been so careful. I never, ever disclose this part of my life to anyone who can’t be trusted.

Then who the fuck is spreading this rumor? Oliver? I thought I could trust him. Maybe that’s not the case, after all.

All burning frustrations immediately subside as Presley takes the smallest step toward me, leaving only inches between us.

“I’m not sleeping with you. Is that clear?” Her voice is quiet, firm, and I find it incredibly sexy.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“But is that clear?”

My heart thuds quickly inside my chest. “Yes.”

Her eyes are still fixed on mine as if she’s searching for a hint of a lie.

There’s no lie, Presley. I would never take advantage.

“You don’t seem satisfied by that answer.”

“I just . . . don’t know if it’s a good idea,” she says softly.

“Why?”

“Because . . .”

Her plump lips form a small pout, and I can’t help but stare. Is she wearing any lip color, or are her lips naturally that pink?

“Because why?”

Presley screws her eyes shut in frustration, furrowing her brow. When she opens them, her eyes are like bullets against my useless emotional armor.

“This!” She gestures wildly toward the small space between us, the near-tangible electricity in the air that separates her body from mine.

I fucking knew it. I knew I wasn’t the only one.

“You’re attracted to me,” I say, my voice soft and low. I keep my expression calm and collected, even though I can actually hear my heart pounding through my veins.

Or is that hers?

She stands utterly still, her eyes wide. But slowly, her cheeks grow rosy. Then she draws her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it for a moment before letting it pop back out. That little move makes my cock push painfully against the constraints of my pants. I can’t tear my eyes away.

“I’m attracted to you, too.” I hear myself say it before I process the words falling out of my mouth. I’m staring at her lips, leaning in.

What am I doing? This meeting is over, Dom.

“Presley—” I’m about to apologize when there’s suddenly a soft press of warmth, and I realize Presley is kissing me. Presley, intern extraordinaire and novice escort, has her lips on mine in an almost chaste lip-lock.

Time seems to halt as everything stills.

She places one hand against my chest as if to steady herself. Otherwise, our only point of connection is this kiss.

My eyelids float closed without my permission and I step into her, my hands moving up to cup her warm cheeks in my fingers.

God, she’s so small. She’s feminine and soft. And it’s been so long.

I suck in a sharp inhale, pressing more deeply into her wet lips. She gasps and grips my shirt, clinging for balance. My mind is blank, my world full of Presley’s sweet scent and her soft skin and her warm tongue.

I know I should stop. I should control myself and be the cool, collected CEO.

But with Presley in my arms, there’s nothing but fire.





Chapter Ten


Presley



I can barely focus on the path back to my desk. My knees are still shaking, my cheeks burn, my lips are still tingling from that kiss. The revelation that Dominic is attracted to me is mind-blowing enough, let alone the idea of pretending we’re a couple.

I sit down, open the report I was in the middle of reviewing, and stare at it blankly without absorbing a single word. Instead a rush of thoughts crowd my head. Michael fretting over his school fees. The nerves that twist inside me every time I think about how in the world I’ll support both him and I. Then there’s everything I could learn about business from observing Dominic and Roger’s negotiations. The chance to affect such a significant deal. The possibility of having Dominic’s touch, those strong hands and full lips on me again. . . even if it’s not written in the contract

I shake my head, uncomfortably warm all over. Am I seriously considering this? No, I can’t. Can I?

I’d be lying to an investor. I mean, we wouldn’t lie about Aspen’s actual business metrics. We’d just be making Dominic look like the kind of stable, mature guy who has a steady girlfriend. It’s more of a . . . storytelling technique. Creative advertising. It’s done in business models all across the world, the marketing strategies and branding that close deals.

No, that’s nonsense—a lie is a lie. On top of that, it would be incredibly unprofessional and inappropriate. I can let myself crash one business dinner, but spending two weeks with the CEO outside of work hours would be unfair to the other interns.

And if we got caught, it wouldn’t matter that our relationship was fake. It would look real enough to land us both in deep shit and possibly drag Aspen Hotels’ name through the mud. The HR department would freak out, and the PR crisis would be even worse.

My heart is thudding so hard, I’m almost breathless. I flatten my palms against the cool surface of my desk and take a much needed deep breath.

That’s when my thoughts take another turn. If we pull this off, everyone will benefit. Me, Michael, Dominic, the entire company. And the idea of spending more time with Dominic is so tempting, for reasons that have nothing to do with what I could learn and everything to do with my attraction to him.