I was going to be late for my first day at the office if I didn’t stop Googling, but I was just too. Damned. Floored.

I thought the surprises were over after not only seeing my mystery man again yesterday, but also realizing that he was Lukas and Lia’s Julian. All that was very much shocking enough without the bombshell that dropped during my cab ride home while searching the full name on the bone white business card that Julian gave me.

Julian Hoult.

He was Julian Hoult. As in Hoult Communications, which owned Hoult Publishing, which of course owned about half the magazines of my career dreams. The company was so revered in the magazine world that my former employer had consistently tried and failed for years to get bought out by Hoult. The fact that I now worked so closely with the man they fell to their knees for was exhilarating. It already felt like sweet, sweet revenge on its own. Of course, it would be even better if they knew, but whatever. I was no longer thinking about them anymore. I was thinking about the exciting new chapter in my life that had fallen into my lap.

And, of course, I was still Googling.

“I maintain that I told you about him before,” Lia said for the fifth time this morning, clinking away at her dishes now. We’d been lazily on speakerphone with each other since 6:30AM, drifting in and out of our half-assed argument to brush our teeth, make coffee and get ready.

“Disagree.” I sat hunched over my laptop at the end of my dining table, wearing just a bra and a half-zipped pencil skirt. I really needed to get my shit together, but Internet stalking was like Pringles. Once you pop, the fun don’t stop. “I swear, you didn’t tell me shit, woman.”

“Oh no,” Lia muttered distractedly to herself. “Did I just chip my favorite mug?” I heard some tinkering before she breathed out in relief. “Oh, thank God, I didn’t. You know what I did do though? Tell you about Julian. A long time ago. On three or four separate occasions.”

Yeah, she was probably right. I had just been so absorbed in work back then.

“Well, if you did, you didn’t harass me hard enough to listen. Or offer the juicy details, like how he owns Hoult Freaking Publishing,” I said as I scrolled through Getty Images of Julian in crisp suits, looking devastatingly handsome at various glitzy events. Chill, I told myself as I compared two pictures, trying to distinguish if he was posing with the same pretty girl in both. The answer was no, but I wasn’t pleased with myself for getting that worked up for a second.

“Whatever. Stop Googling pictures of him. I can hear you furiously clicking.”

“Hoult Publishing, Lia,” I derailed. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I heard her cracking eggs on the other end as she giggled. “To be fair, I have no idea what Hoult Publishing is. When I first met Julian, everyone was talking about how he just bought a baseball team, so I thought that was what he did.”

“Yeah, that’s also fucking crazy. The fact that he owns the Empires? They’re killing it this season.”

“Whatever. Is baseball brown ball or white ball? And are you leaving for work yet?”

“Almost. I just need to finish getting dressed.”

“Isn’t the point of your dirty little job to not be dressed?” Lia teased.

“Only on days that I’m meeting with the Perv Brothers, and even then, I do have to keep it tasteful. I can’t just waltz into the conference room wearing a thong and fishnets.”

Lia scoffed. “Of course not. You’d need sequined nipple tassels too.”

“I would never wear sequins to work, Lia. You know I would keep it classy – pinstriped nipple tassels, only. Maybe khaki ones on Fridays,” I grinned as she audibly choked on her coffee. “In all seriousness though, I do need to maintain some air of professionalism… which probably also requires being on time,” I groaned, finally dragging my ass away from my laptop and to my closet. I grabbed the blue button-up I’d ironed last night and my thin red belt with the fine gold clasp. Lia read my mind.

“Time check is eight-fifteen.”

“Shit, really?” My fingers flew over my buttons as I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “God, I refuse to be late. On the first day or any.”

“Breathe, girl. You won’t be late if you leave right now. Just check for panty lines on the way out,” Lia instructed just as I twisted my body while passing the bathroom mirror.

“All good.”

“Buttons straight?”

Grabbing my purse, I glanced down my front to confirm the buttons, but instead I laughed aloud at the sight of my cleavage.

“Oh God. This bra is killer,” I said as I shoved ear buds into my phone to take Lia off speaker and bring her with me out the door.

“Tell me you wore The One.”

“I did.” It was by far the best push-up in my small collection, but The One was rarely ever worn. Its lifting powers were too intense for a regular day basis, so it was saved for special occasions – and, apparently, first days of work.

“He’s gonna get one look of the girls in that thing and go nuts. I hope you’re prepared for some hot, sweaty, bent-over-the-desk office sex. You realize that’s happening, right?”

“As much as I wouldn’t mind it, I’m not sure,” I smirked as I flew down the hall of my building and out the door.

“What? Why aren’t you sure?” Lia asked incredulously. “That man is definitely dying to get a moment alone with you already. First it was that barge-in at the hotel, then it was hiding you from that guy yesterday,” she said, referring to Julian hastily sending me home in a cab so I could avoid Turner Roth and any questions about working for Julian that I wouldn’t know how to answer. “Trust me, girl. That man is waiting to pounce.”

“We’ll see. Judging from yesterday, Julian Hoult is a very different beast when he’s in work mode. He’s in a different world completely. He’s intense, and he’s focused, and actually, it’s insanely fucking hot and I’m really not sure how I’m going to handle it. But anyway, I’m almost at the train so I’m gonna lose service. I’ll call you at the end of the day.”

“No, you’ll text me live updates as your day goes on, except for when you’re actively having sex with Julian.”

“Ha. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later, girl,” Lia said. “Enjoy your first day as a professional sex kitten.”

* * *

Crap.

I hadn’t expected this to be the first part of the day to throw me off. Of course, I should have guessed that I’d run into some sort of trouble in an elevator. That was just becoming the pattern this week.

Just smile and be confident, I told myself despite the fact that I’d received the onceover from every last person who’d filed into the elevator. It was men and women alike, and it was nothing offensively leering or critical – it was just, apparently, a huge yet surprisingly cliquey building, and they all quietly knew that I didn’t belong.

The fact only grew clearer as the elevator started moving. Despite all heading to different floors, everyone began chatting casually. They smiled and laughed as they talked about their weekends – about finally trying that omakase on Twelfth Street, or escaping to a friend’s house in the Hamptons. Everyone was of a certain status here. Everyone maintained a certain lifestyle, and everyone knew each other.

Except for me.

I looked away after catching someone’s eye and hearing him drop his voice to a mutter. “Who’s that?” he asked his colleague, who responded with something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it prompted them both to laugh.

Good Lord.

Who knew the suits at Hoult Tower could be so catty? And who knew that after all these years, the new girl feeling would still strike fear in my heart? It brought me right back to all the memories I’d convinced myself were mostly gone. God, I’d clearly been premature in patting myself on the back for getting over all those.

Apparently, all it took was being an outsider again for everything to come back.

Dammit, Sara, you’re twenty-seven, I berated myself. That seemed about the right age to outgrow bad memories. Right? I didn’t have the answer to that question, and I didn’t actually want to think about it now, so I just tucked myself into the corner and closed my eyes, doing my best to drive the useless thoughts out of my head. Good, I thought as the elevator stopped again. It gave me more time to meditate.

At least I thought it did. But then I felt the hush fall over the small space. I felt a strange little shift in the air, and I could practically hear everyone’s posture creaking straight.

Then came the first, “Good morning, Mr. Hoult.”

I opened my eyes to find Julian’s electric stare already pinned on mine from the door. My pulse jumped, but with a flick, he returned his gaze to the man who’d greeted him. They exchanged a line of polite conversation before Julian moved through the small huddle of suits. I watched the way everyone swiftly changed around him. They stood at attention, presented themselves better. It was kind of fascinating.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Morning, Mr. Hoult.”

He acknowledged each greeting with an efficient nod before finding his way to the back corner. My cheeks were on fire but I did my best to maintain professionalism as I looked him in the eye and smiled.

“Mr. Hoult,” I said.

“Ms. Hanna.”

I could feel the attention of the others as he greeted me by name. Just like that, an invisible spotlight was cast upon me. Thankfully, despite a knowing and almost wicked smile, Julian spoke with the utmost professionalism.

“How are you this morning?” he asked me.

“Very well, thank you,” I responded, allowing myself a peek at him. Yes, please. Dark blue suit and tie. Cufflinks worth more than my savings. He was effortless beauty as usual, but I was getting better at breathing steady around it. “I did start a little nervous, but I’m better now,” I confessed as the elevator opened again to let in a few more.

The huddle shifted wordlessly to make room, and I bit my lip when I found myself pressed against the back wall, Julian standing directly over me. He indulged in a second-long glance of my absurdly pushed-up breasts, but he swiftly averted his eye when I asked, “How are you?”

His eyes locked on mine. “Better now as well. Thank you.”

I blushed. The suits were all quiet as mice now, sneaking the occasional glance at Julian and me through the mirrors. Yeah, if you think this is scandalous, you should have seen the last elevator we were in, I thought as the doors opened again, this time welcoming an older, incredibly boisterous man complaining about something or another. Whoever he was, the many eye rolls I spotted told me that the suits was used to his daily antics. With a short laugh, Julian leaned into me.

“Get ready,” he whispered.

Before I could ask what he meant, I felt a sharp jostle, the huddle swelling dramatically to make room for the sheer size and volume of our new guest. I felt a second of Julian’s chest pressed hard against mine, and my mouth stayed locked in a little O when he pulled back to find my palm laid flat on his solid abs.

His brows lifted at the same languid pace that I curled my fingers against his ridges.

Oops.

I had to.

“Ms. Hanna.” Julian feigned a frown as I looked up with a shameful little thrill in my eyes. “Little forward of you,” he murmured with a smirk.

“Sorry,” I whispered up at him, a bit surprised with myself as well.

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t make that face right now.”

“What face?”

“The one you made right before you put my cock in your mouth.”

My jaw dropped and my eyes promptly darted around to make sure no one had heard, but it was clear that Big Guy had their focus collectively occupied.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” Julian said. Snapping my mouth shut, I looked back up at him, wearing a smirk as I contained my urge to smack him hard on the chest.

“Risky of you,” I remarked quietly.

“You bring it out of me, but I agree,” Julian murmured. “Let’s behave.”

With that, we both faced forward just in time to see Big Guy out. By the time eyes returned to us, we were the ones standing perfectly still in the back, and quiet as mice. But I could still feel the mischief in the air between us, and it was so hard not to smile as we stood side-by-side, hands folded in front of ourselves like the good little children we were not.

Yes. Go on. Get out.

Mischief touched my placid smile as the elevator emptied floor by floor. Julian and I remained still in the back, but his lips were twisting slowly, gorgeously up in a grin, and I could almost hear the energy crackle between us as the doors opened to let the final two out.

We were alone barely a second when he spoke.

“I should fuck you right in this elevator.”

The rasp in his voice spiked my pulse, and I sucked in a sharp breath when he walked me up against the wall.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have enough time,” I hissed, my fingers hooked in his belt.

“Is the lack of time your only qualm about getting fucked in here?” he asked, smoothing my hand down to mold over his cock. My thighs pumped as he hardened against my palm.

“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly. “That’s the only reason.”

Julian peered over his shoulder at the indicator. We had five floors to go.

“Then let’s do what we have time for,” he said as he sank down to his knee, giving me no time to think before he pushed my skirt up my thighs and pulled my thong aside to expose my pussy.

“Julian!” I gasped as he spread my lips apart just enough to lick my clit. “Oh my God.” My eyes watered from the instant sensation – from the bolt of pleasure to my core as he flicked his tongue over me then sucked. My knees buckled as he pushed two fingers inside me, licking and tunneling furiously for another two seconds before snatching the bliss away and returning swiftly to his feet.

My breath was still caught in my throat as I felt him pull my skirt back down over my legs. I was only just starting to catch my breath as Julian straightened his tie and looked me in the eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

And just then, the doors opened to the offices of Hoult Communications.