Maybe Later(51)

“I got the job, but they wanted more than just dancing.” She swallows hard and gives me a knowing smile.

“They didn’t!” I roared.

“It was part of the job,” they claimed. “If I wanted in, I had to be all in. That’s when I decided to work full time even if I couldn’t study full time. I got a job as an assistant.”

“An assistant?” I ask confused about the shift from stripper to office employee.

“Yes, and it changed my life,” she says excitedly. “The company that hired me was very high-tech. They needed several assistants, but didn’t have the money to pay more than one.”

She smiles. “I offered to do it all if they let me multitask and organize my own workflow. What I did was work my class schedule around their schedules. Once I had everything in a blueprint, I was able to handle it all. My grades weren’t straight A’s anymore but who, cared.

“By the second semester, I had free time to add another client. It was a temporary job, but he recommended me to a friend. By the end of college, I had five clients. Laura, my best friend Alistair and I, all shared an apartment. I had enough money to do an MBA. My roster was growing, and I wanted to know how to manage my own business. During my second year, I established VAES, and a couple of years ago I went global.”

“Do you still work as an assistant?”

She smiles and rolls her eyes.

I look at her and cross my heart. “Nothing you say will leave this room, I swear.”

“Only for special people,” she says.

“What does a client have to do to get you?

“You’re trying to hire me?” she gives me a challenging glare.

“No, I have the best assistant in the world, but thank you for the offer.”

She looks around her office, sighs and says, “Only my oldest client knows who I am. The rest think they’ve hired someone else. They would demand more from me if they knew I was the owner.”

“So, your oldest client is your favorite?”

“Actually,” she says, “I’m more attached to my newest. He’s not my favorite per say, but we have a bond.”

She puts a finger to her lips and says, “that’s between us. It’s one of my biggest secrets.”

She gives me a suspicious glare. “We’re not discussing my company.”

Amy fucking Walker doesn’t exist. My mind spins with conflicting thoughts. I want to ask her who she really is and, understand why she uses a pseudonym. Does she know who I am? I realize that I’m not ready for those answers because I’m not sure if I can handle the truth. There are too many emotions swirling inside me. Before I can decide to end this or move forward, I need to figure out what I want.

“I have to go,” I say hesitantly.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Emmeline


“I want to be reckless with you,” Jack says roughly.

The last thing I see is the intensity in his eyes before he presses his mouth to mine. He kisses me with reckless abandon. Our bodies crush against each other with enough heat to burn the entire building down. I melt into him. My chest splits in half, my heart fuses with his.

The kiss is so strong, binding. Jack’s holding me tight, possessing me. I’m afraid this is a dream. Suddenly I’m nervous. Why am I allowing this to happen? It’s because of the kiss, the softness of his lips, the roughness of his hands. He disarms me, breaks down my walls. Suddenly, I don’t want safe. I want passion. The fire of his touch. I want to burn with him.

My thoughts become blurry as his rough hands begin to undress me. After undoing his button-down shirt, I stop to admire his chest, his sun-kissed skin, the muscles rippling over his torso. My head fills with his scent. I reach for his belt, undoing it fast, but he stops me.

His stare is dark and intense. His eyes roam my body, burning me with the fire he has inside him. My heart beats fast with anticipation.

“Come with me,” he orders, taking my hand and leading me to my bedroom.

When we get to my room, he bows his head toward me and gives me a tentative kiss. His hands slide up my bare arms, over my shoulders, and down my back. He pulls me closer to him. I move my hands behind his neck, sifting my fingers through his soft hair. I have never been kissed this way, as if I’m the only one who matters in the world.

Hoarsely he whispers, “I don’t know if I’m doing it right, but I want to become him.”

Those words pull at something inside my heart, even in my soul. His mouth crashes onto mine. He slips his large hands between my legs, brushing his rough fingers right where I’m aching.

A gasp escapes me as his finger begins to play gently with my clit. He lowers his head down to my breast, his tongue tasting my skin before his mouth touches the tip of one of my breasts.

My back is arching, my mouth begs for more, and every cell of my body is aware of what is about to happen. I’m burning alive—for him.

Jack plunges his finger inside me, while nibbling my nipple between his teeth. But he stops and grabs me around the waist, lifting me up and setting me down on my bed. My legs spread. If I felt vulnerable earlier, I’m now completely exposed to this man. Nothing to cover my body or soul. It’s not like me to risk either, but at this point, I don’t care. I only want him to keep looking at me with hunger, need, and admiration. I need his hands—crave his touch.