Jesus fucking Christ. It’s like someone came down from the fucking heavens and hit me with a fucking meat hammer.

"Aidan, I’d like you to meet Abby Cleveland and her PA, Cheryl Maddox," CJ says, a wide smile on her face. "Cheryl was the one who taught me everything I know in this business—when I first got started."

Cheryl laughs but I gotta be fucking honest. I’m barely listening to her.

"That’s got to be what, three years ago, Christine?" Cheryl asks. She’s referring to CJ’s real name. "When we were both running our operations on Facebook? Doing Facebook parties and takeovers?"

You’re going to hate me, especially if you know CJ or Cheryl, but I fucking tune them out at this point.

I’m much more interested in the woman who’s just sat down in front of me. I sit down. She’s staring at me. Intensely. Her eyes are the color of perfect weather. But her gaze doesn't compare to mine—to what I’m doing to her ... if she only knew. My eyes are fucking undressing that body. Unzipping her dress, unclasping her bra, dragging my fingers over her secret curves. In my head, I’m grabbing those luscious tits in my fists. I’m squeezing, biting, and pinching those nipples. I’m nibbling and kissing that delicate neck, right where it meets her shoulders.

In my head, we’re fucking naked. I’ve thrown her on the table. I’m fucking the living daylights out of her. No fucking mercy.

My cock is twitching like mad just thinking about this woman. It’s got a fucking heartbeat and it's pulsing like a caged animal.

"That seems like ages ago, Boss," CJ replies back. The two of them are in their own little PA-world. That’s fucking good. It leaves me alone with this gorgeous fucking angel sitting across from me.

To be fair, she’s looking at me kinda hesitatingly as well. She doesn’t know what the fuck to make of me.

"Have you been with Cheryl long?" I ask her, leaning close to her over the table. Abby shrugs and smiles seductively at me. "I knew her back when I started. She’s been with me through a lot. Back when I was just starting out," she says to me, her eyes transfixed on mine.

I nod. "I bet you write dirty," I say, grinning at her.

She grins back. Wow. No shame there.

"And what makes you think that?" she asks me. "Have you read any of my stuff?"

Fuck. This is where you’re going to look at me all weird and judgmental because I should be more prepared for this. But instead, I hedge the question.

"I’ve read some," I tell her and her eyes narrow.

"Which ones?" she asks me.

I don’t want to fucking answer that question.

"Oh my God," she squeals and I look over to see if she’s attracted the attention of a rabid fan, but Cheryl and CJ are still gabbing about whatever the fuck they've done together in the past as agents. "Tell meeeee! Please."

Fuck it. Here goes nothing.

"I read your first one, Hscosideme, when it came out," I say quietly muttering the title.

Abby looks at me and it looks like she’s holding back a smile.

"You read WHICH one?" she asks again, her body coming closer across the table to mine.

I don't like being in this fucking spot. I’m 6’ 3". I got tribal tats from the actual ancestors of ancient tribes when I surfed in Kihei. I can bench this entire table and the people sitting around it. I’ve fucked so many women that my man credentials don’t need any defending—from Hollywood starlets to pop music icons to the fucking President’s daughter.

Then why am I worried about what I’m going to look like to this woman?

"I said," I say out loud, and notice that Cheryl and CJ are looking at me now. Abby raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes. "I read your first one, His Cock Inside of Me, when it came out."

Abby blinks. Twice. Her beautiful face scrunches in silent fucking mirth.

"And what did you think about the book when the cock was inside of you?" she asks.

I hear CJ give a short chuckle and Cheryl purses her lips.

They’re all fucking laughing at me.

Not for long.

I lean forward a bit more. Abby looks me in the eyes and my body gives a silent call for her to come closer. She does so involuntarily.

"I think," I whisper and I can tell that CJ and Cheryl, who have gone back to their own conversation, are straining to catch a listen to what I’m whispering. "That when you write about guys with big dicks who pleasure their women, you’re almost there," I say.

"Almost?" Abby asks.

"The only way you can make it definitive," I tell her, and my eyes flash triumph. "Is to write about me."

Fuck, remember when I said I was hesitant about co-writing? With a washed up top author?

Yeah, I’ve pretty much forgotten about all of that. I’m staring at this girl’s fucking tits. Her perfect fucking legs. Her taut, flat tummy. Her beautiful face.

And I can’t think of why I would never want to do something with her.

But she’s still talking. I need to focus and get my head back in the game because she’s asking me something.

"…really. So you think that it’s not complete until I write about how your cock can satisfy a woman?" she asks me.

I nod.

"Absolutely," I tell her.

"And you think that’s why we should work together?" she asks again.

I shrug.

"I think that’s why we should at least have dinner together," I tell Abby. "Away from these two," I say, gesturing toward our agents.

"Might give us a chance to…brainstorm?" Abby asks, emphasizing the word brainstorm.

I have no idea why the fuck that was sexy, but my cock seems to be leaking fucking precum at the mention of Abby saying 'brainstorm' the way she just did.

"How about 8 tomorrow, at Del Posto?" I ask.

Her eyes go big.

"Don’t worry, I’m buying," I tell her. Abby nods. Dinner at Del Posto can cost up to $1000 for two people. It’s a good thing I can bill this all to CJ.

"Tomorrow at 8," Abby says, almost entranced.

"It’s a date, darlin’," I tell her as I get up from the booth. "Are any of your book boyfriends as smooth as this?" I ask as I turn around to go.

"All of them," Abby replies. I smile.

She’ll find out just how smooth. Soon enough.

The games have only just begun.