~ Ares

 

The drink was like nirvana to my system.

When Jimmy had pulled out a question about my father, I wanted to strangle him—nice guy, or not. I d              idn’t talk about my Dad—not in public. Not ever. I didn’t do personal. Thankfully, seeing Ava’s furious expression was enough to jog me out of my shocked stupor.

Watching the little blonde lamb grow fangs to rival a wolf’s had done a shit ton more than that.

Ava had accomplished the difficult feat of shocking me speechless with her transformation. I did little more than follow her around like a love-struck puppy as she eviscerated everyone in her path, from the courier all the way up to the producer himself. The way she unloaded on the man... a petite blonde less than half Hyatt’s size... it was both awe-inspiring and a little frightening to watch.

I came out the other end of the situation with a raging hard on and a new perspective where my publicist was concerned. Though the company had assured me that she was good at her job, it was a horse of a different color seeing her handle business in person.

And she had handled it.

It didn’t help that she was wearing the little white number I picked for her. Though she didn’t have any heels to match, she looked every bit the power player, sauntering around backstage. It made the way she choked and spluttered as she sipped at her whiskey cute by comparison. “Not a liquor woman, I take it?”

She grimaced, staring at her half-full glass as if it had morally wronged her. “Not really. God, how do you drink this stuff?”

“Slowly,” I replied on a chuckle. “With panache.”

She rolled her eyes, setting her glass aside on a nearby table. “I prefer rum punch.”

“Of course, you do,” I smirked. “With little umbrellas and pieces of pineapple.”

“Screw you, Wolfe.” She was smiling through the insult, and the sweet curve of her lips had my erection pressing at the zipper of the awful khakis she dressed me in. “Let’s get out of here.”

If she were any other woman, I might consider that an invitation—but this was Ava we were talking about, and she’d only had a few sips of whiskey. I knew better than to count my chickens. “Lead the way.”

The sun had long been down by the time we made it outside, and the whiskey had me pleasantly buzzing as I contemplated the evening at the office that awaited me. There was never any rest for the wicked.

When I directed the driver back downtown, Ava frowned at me. “You’re headed back to the office? At this hour?”

I sighed, leaning back against the seat with a faint smile. “There’s always work to be done, Ava. I’m sure that part of you assumed I was all playboy with little business involved.”

Even in the dim light of the car, I could tell she was blushing. I could all but feel the heat of her face. “I never said that.”

“You thought it.” I loosened the first few buttons of the shirt, wondering how on earth anyone could last a whole day getting choked by their damned clothes. At least my suit was tailored to fit me. “Everyone thinks it.”

Ava ran a hand through her blonde hair, loose for the first time since we’d met. The long, wavy strands made her look like a goddess incarnate, making it that much harder to be on my best behavior. “We’re working to change the way they think, Ares. That should console you some.”

I snorted. “Just because I make an observation doesn’t necessarily mean I care what other people think.” I had stopped all that a long time ago. Being too invested in other people’s opinions made you vulnerable, and I didn’t do vulnerable.

“Your stockholders care, and they have the welfare of your company in mind.” Rather than accusatory, Ava’s tone was merely matter-of-fact. “And I happen to know that the only person who cares more for the welfare of your business is you, Ares. That’s undeniable.”

She was too fucking astute for her own good. Sitting next to Ava made me contemplate the last time I’d actually had a decent conversation with a woman. It had been... a while. I had to admit, when it came to women, I was usually pretty single-minded. If they weren’t under me, they were busy trying to worm their way into my good graces otherwise, and that always made me wary as hell but Ava forced me out of my comfort zone, I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not.

“You make it sound like I have a few redeemable qualities, Ava. I’d be careful if I were you.” I grinned at her, and was rewarded with that tell-tale pink flush that had me all kinds of fucked.

“If you do have any, it’s my job to highlight them,” she finally replied once she’d found her voice again. “We’re focusing on the wholesome now, remember? The old, predatory, sex-crazy party boy is officially out of commission.”

I smirked, turning to her. There was, in reality, plenty of space in the back of the Rolls. I could sit across from Ava if I chose, or at the other end of the seat, but far be it from me to take it easy on her. If she wanted to banish the “old” Ares, it was going to take a little more than her say so and some pressure from the men upstairs.

“Am I?” The moment I slid across the seat towards her, she pressed herself against the door, her eyes blown wide. Her hand came up just in time to inhibit my progress, pressing flush against my chest.

“Ares…” Her voice held a definite note of warning, even if it was slightly unsteady. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” My fingers curled around hers, tugging it gently out of the way. “I thought I behaved quite admirably tonight.”

I could smell her perfume... or perhaps it wasn’t perfume. Ava didn’t seem like the type. She probably bathed with some sweet-smelling soap. I’d never been a fan of overwhelming flowery scents, but Ava’s was subtle. Lavender, vanilla and something softer... something I needed to taste.

“You did,” she finally replied, looking anywhere but directly at me. “You were a perfect gentleman... even if I know better.”

I chuckled darkly, reaching down to cup her chin gently and redirect that lovely green gaze of hers. “Can I help it that you bring out the worst in me?”

She exhaled a shuddering breath that I was very proud to be the instigator of. “I can’t imagine it’s very hard.”

I lowered my head to inhale the heady scent of her as my thumb traced the neckline of her dress. I had never been more glad I’d invested in the thick pane of darkened glass between the passenger’s section and the driver. Of course, Mac could pull back that partition anytime he wanted. Hopefully, he wouldn’t. Not if he knew what was good for him.

“I liked watching you tell Hyatt off.” The line of her neck and shoulder was so damned inviting that I had to heed the call. I kissed her there, lingering and indulgent, relishing the way she trembled. “Kitten’s got some very impressive claws.” When I nipped at the point of her pulse, her hands came up to rest hesitantly against my chest... but they didn’t quite push.

Not yet.

“I’m not... a cat.” Ava shifted beneath me, whimpering as I explored the length of her throat with my lips and teeth.

She was right—I was fucking deplorable. She’d told me no, and, somehow, that only made me want her more. “I don’t know about that, Ava,” I chuckled against her ear. “I bet I could make you purr for me.”

My mouth found hers before she could protest any further. Since the first time I kissed Ava, it was hard to think of anything else. Sure, I traveled, worked, ate and slept, but that hot little body of hers was never far from my mind. After the dressing room incident, she made it clear that I wasn’t to touch her again, but what man could ever get enough of Ava? Her demeanor was more than enough; so much demure innocence wrapped up in a surprisingly aggressive shell. But now she was wearing that goddamned dress.

I’d seen her working backstage at Kimmel. While she was absorbed in making sure things ran smoothly, all eyes were on her and it had little to do with the fact that she was my new publicist. She was fucking stunning in her white dress, all her curves accentuated perfectly... and that mouth. Sweet Jesus, that mouth.

She moaned softly, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt the minute my tongue touched hers. She was a woman who did everything tentatively: every touch; every sentence; every action as if she were desperate to keep from losing control.

I knew about control.

Ava was going to give it up to me, and the moment she did, I’d make her body fucking sing. My tongue swiped along her bottom lip before stroking her own to life as my fingers tangled in her mass of blonde hair. Why she kept it up was beyond me when she looked so much sexier with the golden waves tumbling around that cherubic face of hers. She tasted of the whiskey she disliked so much, which only made me want more of her. So much more.

I plucked her from the seat with ease to settle in my lap, ignoring her small sound of surprise. Almost as soon as it escaped her, I was kissing her again—answering the call of my rising erection as I licked and sucked at her mouth hungrily. Within minutes, Ava was squirming feverishly in my lap. The curve of her behind butted back against the swell of my cock and I groaned lowly, my teeth sinking into her throat in a gentle bite.

Her soft cry of sensation surprised me a moment before I grinned against her shoulder. Underneath all those manners, little Ava was far more hedonistic than I gave her credit for. I resolved that this time, I wouldn’t stop until I knew just how wild I could make her.

“Ares…” Her soft, breathy moan drew a possessive rumble from deep in my chest as one hand curled firmly into the softness of her thigh. “We can’t... you... you can’t…”

Beneath the silky material of her dress, her skin was soft and smooth. I stroked her inner thigh, from a few inches below the hottest part of her to the yielding crook of her knee. I could feel her muscles bunch and contract in reaction to my touch, though she did nothing to escape it. “Tell me to stop.” I dared her, between leisurely kisses along her shoulder blade. “Say the word, Ava, and I will.” When I tugged her earlobe between my teeth she shuddered, her head falling back against the seat.

Her fingers curled around the nape of my neck as she unconsciously wriggled back against my cock.

That was definitely not a no.

I was barely touching her and she was putty in my arms—was it so damned surprising that I overdid it? My hand slid beneath the neckline of her dress, plumping one of her breasts high to spill out of the restraining fabric and the bra that kept her from my gaze. At the sight of the smooth, pale flesh topped with a strawberry-colored nipple, I groaned. I’d never been harder in my life, and I pressed the proof flush against the small of her back. “Fuck, Ava. You have no idea what you do to me.”

I shifted her on my lap, kissing my way from her swollen lips down her throat and to the nipple I’d bared. The moment I took it into the heat of my mouth, Ava arched brazenly into the motion, a tortured moan escaping her.

Despite the fact that I was far from an untried virgin, it took a bit of willpower to keep from ruining my pants right then and there. Ava’s fingers threaded through my hair as she tugged me against her, drunk on sensation. Despite the claim that she wasn’t a cat, her fingers kneaded at my scalp in a very feline way as she whimpered and writhed.

She tasted like heaven. Every stroke of my tongue against the hard bud at the tip of her breasts drew a gasping moan from her. I could feel the heat emanating from between her slender thighs as I stroked the length of one. My teeth scraped against the underside of her breast and Ava keened, low and unabashed.

By now, I consented that Mac probably knew exactly what we were doing. But, thankfully, the partition stayed shut. It was, perhaps, the first time I very much cared about anyone else catching me in the act. For reasons even I couldn’t fully comprehend, the idea of someone else seeing Ava like this burned my blood. She was mine. My publicist and my woman, wrapped up in my arms as I made her feel like she’d never felt.

I raised my mouth from the hard diamond of her nipple and she all but wailed, making me chuckle. “Impatient, are we?” I assuaged her with a light series of kisses all over her breast as my hand crept up her inner thigh, seeking my ultimate prize.

The moment my hand cupped the heat at the crux of her legs, she jumped like I’d burned her, emitting a startled squeak that made me chuckle. “I’ve got you, sweet. Calm down.” My amusement, however, didn’t last long.

She was fucking drenched. So wet she’d all but soaked through the creamy satin of her underwear, and at the discovery, I cursed lowly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d held a woman so responsive. It was almost like no one had ever touched her. The mere thought was enough to embolden me into sliding my hand beneath the damp material she wore.

When I found the silky, sticky seam of her pussy, my groan was enough to drown out her needy keen of excitement. “Fuck me…” I stroked her, back and forth, transfixed by the way her hips eagerly chased my hand. If there had been any lingering doubt that Ava wanted me, in that moment, it evaporated. I knew I could lay her out in the back seat and slide into that tight, hot little cunt with absolutely no resistance if I chose but somehow, I restrained myself. Maybe Ava was working on me more than I was willing to admit.

Instead of getting my dick wet, I slipped my hand from beneath her dress for long enough to rearrange her on my lap. Her thighs hooked over mine, forcing the material of her dress high over her waist to expose the panties she’d ruined. In the dim light of the car, I could see the reflection of her draped over me in the glossy partition, legs spread for my sampling.

Shit, that was hot as hell.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I found her exposed nipple once more to roll it between my fingertips. As I did so, my hand found her creamy pussy again and returned to stroking. Ava’s magnificent head toppled onto my shoulder, her lips parted as her breath came in gasps. I could get used to the sight of her lost in pleasure.

Hell, I needed it like I needed to fucking breathe.

Despite the way Ava squirmed and arched into my touch, stroking that sweet sex of hers just wasn’t enough. Encouraged by her needy moan, I dipped the tip of my finger just inside her, coating the pad with her slickness before dragging it up to the distended little bud of pleasure above.

When I touched her clit, the effect was electric. Her body jerked and her mouth snapped shut as she bit back a loud cry.

It was the best kind of encouragement.

With a low growl, I tugged her back into my lap, holding her in place. I continued to ply her nipple with one hand as the other circled her clit slowly. The sounds she made were nothing less than intoxicating. Ava’s pale skin flushed, from the swell of her breasts to her lovely face, her eyes squeezed shut in desperate need. In some ways, she took everything I gave her, her hips bucking against every stroke of my fingers, her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. In other ways, she struggled to escape my grip—a vain attempt—and whimpered, completely overcome as I drove her higher and higher.

Within minutes she was clutching wildly at my neck and shoulders, clawing hard enough to leave marks as her entire body quivered powerfully.

“That’s it…” I growled against her neck. “Give it to me, Ava. Let me see you come, Sweet.” My thumb circled southward, finding the sensitive, vulnerable spot beneath her clit. As I pressed both pressure points directly—exploiting her tender little bud while stroking her just there—I bit her. Just hard enough to leave a mark on her neck and remind her who, exactly, had undone her.

She came apart with a breathless cry, shaking uncontrollably against me. Considering how painfully hard I was it was a miracle her orgasm didn’t trigger my own. I watched her body spasm, unblinking, taking in every gorgeous line as she surrendered to sensation. Considering how fast I had tipped her over the edge, her reaction was nothing less than breathtaking. A full two or three minutes passed before she finally went limp against me, and the feel of her still quivering form was enough to make my cock jump desperately against the zipper of my khakis.

I held her tight against me, kissing errantly over the site of my bite mark as she came down. While I wasn’t exactly the poster child for a gentleman’s club, I wasn’t going to let her slide off the seat onto the floor. I wasn’t a complete asshole. Besides, I had the overwhelming desire to go for round two—not for her, but for me. I needed to see her body come apart again.

I was snapped back to reality by a soft, shuddering breath. Ava was coming to her senses. She straightened slowly and seemed to realize where she was a moment before she scrambled from my lap at the speed of light. My brows immediately shot to my hairline in confusion as she yanked her clothing into place, squeezing herself into the corner of the cabin in a bid to make herself as small as possible. Her breath came in low nervous gasps that made my stomach drop.

Fuck. Had I hurt her? Scared her?

“Ava?” I finally managed, my tone low and careful. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Her response was tight and oddly high. “I just... don’t touch me. Just give me a minute.”

Don’t touch her? That was a tall order considering I was pounding nails and wanted my hands all over her. “Did I hurt you?” It had been a long fucking time since I felt I’d taken a misstep with a woman, and I found myself suddenly shamed. “Christ, was that too much?”

A beat that seemed to last an eternity passed before she finally answered me. “No.” She reluctantly straightened, turning to face me. Her face was flush from her recent orgasm, and I bit back a groan at the way her eyes gleamed. “I just…” She began to toy with her hair, which I’d come to recognize as a nervous, vulnerable gesture that I adored. “I didn’t think... I’ve never…” She struggled visibly to find the right words.

Going out on a limb, I reached across the seat to tug her back into my arms before tipping her chin up gently. “Go on.”

If anything, she merely flushed darker. “I didn’t think I could do that. I’ve never... I mean…”

My eyes widened in incredulity as everything clicked. “Holy fuck. You’ve never come before.”

She immediately slapped my arm with enough force to sting, clearly embarrassed. “You don’t have to say it out loud.”

Oh, but I did. I’d just given sweet Ava Parker her first orgasm. Not some run of the mill frat boy or Wall Street banker and not her college sweetheart. Me. The realization stroked my ego like a goddamned prize peacock. In the space of two seconds, I decided that I wasn’t just going to be the first. I was going to ruin her for every man that came after me. I was going to turn my lovely little blonde into a multi-orgasmic creature of pure need.

“Come here, sweet Ava.” I tugged her against me, a hand curling into her thigh possessively. “I’m going to do it again. And again. Until you’re burnt out and sobbing in my arms. I promise you, we’re just getting started.”

I watched her face run a gauntlet of emotions in response. Helpless, unbridled lust, anxiety, trepidation, want and that was just on the surface. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was happening inside her head.

Before she could respond, however, the car pulled up to the curb outside the office building and I cursed inwardly. Awful timing.

“I should go.” I was able to keep Ava from escaping because I anticipated that she would flee. While she was aggressive when it came to her job, deep down, she was a little too innocent for my particular brand. She attempted to slip past me and out the curbside door, but I caught hold of a slender wrist and held firm. For a long moment, she refused to look at me, instead wriggling and squirming in an attempt to get free. It was so much like what she’d been doing mere moments ago in my lap that a low, pained sound escaped me.

It was time to stop fucking around.

“Look at me, Ava. Now.” While she didn’t respond immediately, the danger suggested in that last word was enough to get her to face me, albeit reluctantly.

My deer in headlights.

“No more running,” I demanded, my tone low and authoritative. “You run from me one more time, and I’ll see you regret it.” My reward was the little shudder that traversed her slender form. My grip on her wrist tightened slightly. “Do you understand me?” She nodded almost immediately, her eyes wide. “Now, where will you be tomorrow morning, eight o’clock sharp?”

“Your office,” she answered after a slight bout of hesitation. “For our meeting.”

“Good girl.” I wanted to pull her back into my arms. To kiss her until all that hesitation and fear melted away and I could mold her into something malleable and primal, but the moment was already gone. If I tried anything further, I knew I’d just scare her off, if I hadn’t already.

“Ares…” Her voice gained a bit of steel now that she sensed I’d gotten what I wanted. “I need to go. Let me go.” My gaze narrowed in warning and she back peddled with admirable speed. “Please.”

In response, I merely drew her across the smooth leather seat and back into my sphere of influence. Brushing a few stray strands of blonde from her face, I searched her wide green eyes, fighting the need to show her just how vulnerable I could really make her. “You can fight it all you want, Ava, but I’m telling you now - one day you’ll find yourself in my bed, and denying me will be the furthest thing from your mind.”

Her lips parted and, for a moment, I thought she might let me kiss her again. She certainly looked like that was what she wanted, and I was all for giving it to her. But, instead, she caught me off guard, snatching her hand from my grip as her gaze hardened.

“In your dreams, Wolfe.”

With that caustic profession, she slipped from the car and my grasp, slamming the door behind her with undue force.

I took a minute to try and calm my raging erection while I watched her saunter off. She was a saucy, stubborn little thing... and I planned to make her mine.

**

Unfortunately, I found myself feeling far less confident about the entire scenario the next morning when eight o’clock rolled around. I busied myself with my coffee and pretended not to pay attention to the clock until a good twenty minutes had passed. At which point I threw down the portfolio I perused in disgust. She was late. Ava was never late, and I could only think of one reason she might keep me waiting. I had gone too far. She told me no and I pushed too hard. While I couldn’t deny that I had enjoyed the hell out of the experience, I now found myself questioning my motives and I didn’t like it.

She was my publicist —the last in a long line of men and women who came before her. Just because I decided I wanted to fuck her didn’t mean I was suddenly watching her like a hawk, waiting for her next move. I had better things to do. I had a multi-billion-dollar company to run, for God’s sake. I wasn’t and had never been, the type to fawn over women.

Not since Laura.

Just like that, my morning was ruined.

I didn’t want to contemplate what might have kept Ava away from me. If she came, she came. If she didn’t, there was one less babysitter for me. Wasn’t that what I wanted? Trying to play goody-two shoes when I was more rough-and-tumble was grating on me. It went against my nature. Who the hell cared if my nice-guy routine made Ava smile? This wasn’t about her; it was about the company. Which made me angrier was a toss-up: The fact that I scared Ava away; or, that I cared that  she’d gone.

“Mr. Wolfe?”

“What, Margaret?” When I snapped at my PA, she flinched, caught off guard by my dark mood. She stepped into my office with extreme reluctance, her expression wary.

“I’ve brought you the files for the Beijing Properties. And I also wanted to tell you that Mr. Lin called. He wants to know if you’ll cut your asking price by twenty percent.”

I scowled. Great. More bad news.

While I wanted to tell Lin to fuck right off, that would only exacerbate the issue. “Tell him I’ll call him back in an hour, and not before.” That should give me enough time to gather my thoughts and come up with a politer way to say fuck right off. “And let me see the files.”

“Of course.” She crossed the room to hand the papers to me and, for a split second, I contemplated whether or not bending her over my desk and fucking her raw would make me feel better. The way I winced instinctively at the notion merely added to my ire and I dismissed her, my mood thunderous.

When the door opened again, not a minute later, a few very choice words were on the tip of my tongue.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

My head jerked up in surprise at the very harried, very familiar tone. Ava stood in the doorway, her updo mussed, clothes windblown. The sight of her was enough to garner the complete tension of both my upper and lower brains. “There’s a storm and the bus was delayed; then a train signal stopped working; it was a nightmare.”

As she smoothed herself back into a presentable state, I imagined my hands in her place, smoothing over that god-awful skirt suit she wore to feel the curves beneath. I supposed I should count my blessings that I got her to show off her God-given gifts on occasion.

Despite the fact that I was furious literally two seconds before she walked into my office, her appearance was like a soothing balm. My blood pressure lowered and my temperature dropped. Mind you, this hypothetical balm also made me want to fuck her until she screamed my name, but that was part of the charm. Ava was where she needed to be, which meant that I, once again, comfortably had the high ground.

My gaze found her face and stared, unyielding, for a good ten seconds—until she was just on the edge of squirming with unease. I figured she deserved at least that much for the way my morning had gone.

“Well, good morning to you too!” She finally tore her gaze from mine to stutter indignantly, marching across the room. When she dropped into one if the chairs before my desk I was treated to a generous view of her cleavage—one she almost certainly hadn’t intended, dressed the way she was.

It made me bold as hell.

“Come here, Ava.” Raising a hand, I beckoned. It was idiotic, I knew. I’d just spent the past few hours convincing myself that I drove her off with my aggression and now, here I was, falling back into my natural habitat.

Pushing the boundaries.

Part of me fully expected her to leave the way she came in; a large part of me. It was one thing to toy with a woman who knew she was playing with fire, but Ava had no idea.

Her gaze locked on my hand for a moment before rising to my impassive expression. I hadn’t asked her. I was giving her an order.

And she surprised the hell out of me when she complied.

After a moment’s hesitation, she rose from the chair to round my desk. She was oddly obedient, yes, but cautious. She didn’t come any closer than the edge of the desk, shifting from one foot to another uncomfortably.

It reminded me that I needed to get her a pair of heels—expensive ones that would show off those lovely legs of hers.

“Closer.” I turned to face her in my chair, legs spread in blatant invitation. Ava took a visible breath, slow and steady, before stepping forward to stand a mere foot away from me and the cock that was already straining towards her. Reaching up, I tucked a stray strand of blonde behind her ear. “In the future, you call me if you’re late.”

Her mouth pressed into a tight line as I watched her struggle with rebellion. She was cute as hell when she pouted, and I could see her mind working furiously to compare the pros and cons of submission. “Fine.” She uttered the single word softly, her cheeks flushing as she lowered her gaze. “I’ll call.”

Fuck, I liked that. Having Ava at my beck and call was something I could definitely get used to.

“Can we start discussing the next few weeks now?” Her words, rather than caustic, were tentative. She was all but begging for me to let her take the reins again and dictate my schedule. Like hell.

With an almost angelic smile, I gestured to the flat surface of my desk before patting it in invitation. “Certainly. Have a seat.”

The next week was a test of self-control. There was a large part of me that wanted nothing more than to push Ava to the breaking point—if by simple virtue of punishment. That hour that she was late had been pure hell. It took me back to a place I didn’t want to be and the only way to reassert my dominance was to ensure that Ava never took me there again.

Easier said than done.

Despite any assumptions I had, messing with Ava had just as profound an effect on me as it did on her. I was long used to control in the bedroom. To women that liked to be tossed around, fucked and pleased until my name was the only one that mattered. But this was something different.

I couldn’t just grab Ava and drag her to my bed. If just my hands had overwhelmed her to the point that she needed a moment to come back to herself, then taking her to bed was something I was going to have to work my way up to.

After Laura, I swore to myself that I would never chase after another woman. The only thing I put a shit ton of time and effort into was my company. I didn’t even want to contemplate chasing after another woman and having the shit kicked out of me again. All that loved and lost fuckery wasn’t for me.

And yet, here I was, working my way past Ava’s defenses like I had all the time in the world. I tried to keep myself busy enough that I didn’t give it too much thought, but every time I reveled in the way she yielded to me, something prickled at the back of my mind.

Ava fell into a role of obedience more easily than I’d imagine. All the self-assured confidence she wrapped around herself in her profession seemed to melt away the moment I issued her a command. Mind you, that didn’t mean that she obeyed immediately. She squirmed, she hesitated and she danced around the subject with a skill that both amused and somehow further heightened my need for her.

Every day after the first, I insisted that she perch on my desk when we spoke in person. While the first and second days had her sidling into position after a few minutes of discomfort, by that Friday, she took her position almost as soon as I asked.

Around Wednesday, I told her I didn’t want to see her in anything that didn’t do her body justice for the remainder of our contract. She blushed, stuttered, and protested until I convinced her that it wasn’t only for my sake. She was doing herself a service as well—beauty like hers deserved to be appreciated. Maybe it was the compliment, and maybe it was the tone, but the next day, she wore one of my dresses.

And I was a cat in fucking cream.

Of course, all of this was building to the make-or-break. After I bought her a pair of Louboutins and she took them without complaint—though with a glare that might have dropped a lesser man on the spot—I knew I had her.

“Have dinner with me.”

She meant only to drop into my office for a few minutes to deliver the script for an upcoming interview, but, that Saturday morning, I kicked things into high gear.

Ava merely stared at me, the schedule held in the sparse space between us. She wore a deep emerald vee-neck top that made her tits look like heaven and a pencil skirt that might have been illegal in a few states—both items I picked for her. Topped off by the Louboutins, she was a vision. And I wanted her in my clutches for far more than a few minutes.

“I have some errands to run today,” she finally provided, not quite meeting my gaze. “I only came to—”

“Dinner,” I repeated firmly, taking both the file and her hand in a firm grip that booked no argument. “Take all the time you need to run your errands. I’ll send the car for you at eight.”

She opened her mouth as if to protest, and then closed it, swallowing thickly, as my thumb stroked over her wrist leisurely. I had all the time in the world, and I fully intended on keeping her there until I got what I wanted.

After a long beat, Ava sighed—a soft, helpless sound that I reveled in. “Ok. Fine.”

I smirked, a predatory gesture ingrained in me from years of getting what I wanted. “Hope you like French.”

I sent her scampering from the office a few minutes later, no doubt glad to have escaped. When I resumed my work, however, I found it hard to concentrate. Not because I could still see Ava’s glorious ass teasing me as she sauntered away, but because I now found myself faced with the prospect of a date.

A date.

Fuck, when was the last time I’d ever taken a woman anywhere but to bed? Did I even remember how to go on a date? I was pretty sure that no amount of money or influence would keep me out of the tabloids if I fucked her right there in the middle of the restaurant... I would have to contain myself.

If I had done it for a few weeks, I supposed one more night wouldn’t kill me. Hopefully.

The afternoon crawled by at a snail’s pace. Though I gave my paperwork and conference calls the attention they were due, it was a near thing. Ultimately, I ended up chiding myself over what my Pop would think if I let myself backslide for the ambitions of my dick.

I could all but see him shaking his head with that disapproving frown set firmly in place. It was enough to make me straighten up pretty damn quick and force myself down the straight and narrow—if only for a few hours.

Once I was focused, eight o’clock rolled around pretty quickly. I took the half-hour before to change out of my preacher clothes; Ava hated it when I called them that and slip into a suit. I may not have been wearing them with as much frequency as I used to, but I still kept them dry-cleaned and ready.

I felt far more comfortable in Ferragamo than the nice-boy getup and besides that, it was worth the look on Ava’s face when I walked into the restaurant. Her eyes widened as she quickly scanned the establishment to ensure that no one else was staring the way she was.

“I thought we agreed to wholesome,” she hissed, by way of greeting.

I merely returned her hungry stare. She wasn’t wearing a dress I bought her, but if I’d known Ava owned a sexy, strappy black thing like the garment that currently clung to her, I would have demanded to see it sooner. “Relax, Ava. No one’s going to be judging me here. You’re my publicist. What harm could I possibly do?”

Her glare told me very poignantly exactly how much harm she thought me capable of—and the evening had barely started. Taking her outrage in stride, I took the seat across from her with a comfortable grin. “Do you like the restaurant?”

She glanced around the elegant, gold-decorated decor briefly before relaxing somewhat. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never been anywhere this nice.”

“You’ll get used to it.” I gestured to the waiter, ordering us a twenty-year Cabernet Sauvignon that I knew to be particularly exquisite. “I know I have.”

Ava arched a brow inquisitively. “Frequent this place?”

My mouth curved into a firm smile. “I came here for a celebratory dinner with some of my investors after I made my first million. It has a certain sentimental value.”

“So... you’ve been coming here for almost ten years.” I was surprised that she knew the numbers, and it must have shown on my face. Ava smiled—sweet and lovely. “You were twenty-two when you made your first major acquisition ,no, twenty-three.”

“Someone did her research.” I chuckled, offering both of our glasses to the waitress to fill. “Is there a file somewhere with my name on it? All my most intimate secrets and deepest shames wrapped up in a nice little package?”

She laughed softly, the light from a chandelier catching in the gold waves that tumbled down her back. She was so damned beautiful it took my breath away. “Something like that.”

“So, in short, you know everything about me and I know nothing about you. Have I got that right?”

Her cheeks flushed as she took a nervous sip of her wine. “You know I work for you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking up my own wine glass. “Come on, Ava. Throw me a bone. I’ve kept all your rules, haven’t I?”

That much was true. All the limitations and rules she’d set for my appearances and behaviors had been followed rigorously. I’d toyed with her a fair amount, but I hadn’t kissed her again. That wasn’t breaking any rules, was it? At least, not flagrantly.

She played with a strand of her hair, twining it around a slender finger, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I would have liked nothing more than to cover my hand with hers and take a handful of those glorious waves as I spread her for me... but we were supposed to be having small talk. And if there was one detail on which Ava was correct, it was that my suits weren’t the most comfortable clothing to get an erection in. “Ares, compared to yours, my life is boring as all get out. It’s not really scintillating table talk.”

Leaning across the table, I locked eyes with her, my expression suddenly serious. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

The way she hesitantly tugged her lower lip between her teeth had me struggling to remain a gentleman. After all, I did actually want to know what went on in her life when she wasn’t trying to mold me into an altar boy. Which was odd, as I had never given two shits about any of my other babysitters.

Ava took another sip of her wine and I could all but see the cogs in her brain working as she decided how much she was actually going to reveal. “What do you want to know?”

She shouldn’t have given me carte blanche. Hell, I wouldn’t have given me carte blanche—but this was hardly the time to exploit that. “What do you do in your free time?”

She laughed at that, shaking in disbelief. “Eat. Sleep. Sometimes I jog in the park.”

“No hobbies? Anything secret and kinky I should know?”

“Unless four-mile circuits are kinky, no. Hate to disappoint you.”

I smirked. She had some snark in her, and I liked that. More than liked it. “Maybe I’m working you too hard if that’s all you have time for.”

“I do... other things.” She hurried to reframe herself, stroking the side of her wine glass absently. “I do some writing and sketching. I like learning about wines and I... I’m thinking about buying a place in Manhattan by the end of the year.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Where in Manhattan?”

“Lower East Side.” Her eyes lit up the moment I asked. “It’s a newly renovated building, but they still have all the exposed brick. It’s a gorgeous duplex: sleek modern design; two bedrooms; and plenty of space. The units won’t be move-in ready for another year and a half, so I can get it for a steal.”

Sounded like the perfect investment piece. Apparently, publicity wasn’t her only talent. “Know the name of the development company.”

Her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink I liked so much. “I think it might be one of yours, actually.” No big surprise there. But it pleased me more than it should to think that Ava might soon be living in one of my buildings—within my reach.

“Well then, obviously you’re getting a good deal.”

“I can’t deny that. You may be in need of a little cleaning up, but no one would dare deny you’re good at what you do, Ares.”

“It’s easy to be good at something when you like it.” Like sex. “You’re the same way. Anyone with eyes could tell that you love your job.”

Ava ran a hand through her hair, dropping the waves down her back with a small, prideful smile. “I do. Who wouldn’t enjoy helping someone turn themselves into anything they wanted?”

“Or needed.” I chided playfully, making her chuckle.

“Well, your case is a bit different.” She chided, taking a refill on her wine. I had no idea how well Ava could or couldn’t hold her liquor, but she seemed to be relaxing—and that was what I was after.

“And what’s so different about my case?”

Ava arched a brow in inquiry before telling me point blank. “Usually I’m building people up. Helping them make a name for themselves. You, Ares, I have to dial down. Way down. Those suits and that demeanor draw people’s attention away from your business accomplishments and turn you into a tabloid sexpot.”

I hadn’t ever seen anything particularly wrong with this—but when Ava framed it that way, the notion gave me pause. I decided that I didn’t particularly like where this conversation was going and flipped the script.

“Well, you’re remolding me, aren’t you? A neat little feat, considering you’re far from plain yourself.” Her eyes widened in shock as I continued. “You liked to hide beneath a few extra sizes and a professional demeanor, but you wear lacy underwear and have dresses like that one in the back of your closet.” I gestured to her alluring getup. “You try to deny it to yourself but the fact of the matter is that you’re well aware of just how fucking gorgeous you are.”

Ava blushed from her temples down to the enticing line of her cleavage.

“Makes me think no man has ever shown you properly.” She opened her mouth, obviously floundering for words, a moment before she took a desperate gulp of wine.

“Since we’re talking about ourselves, Ava, I’d very much like to know about the men in your life.”

Ava stared at me as if I’d grown an extra head. “Excuse me?”

At this point, however, I was ruthless. “I’m curious. Do you have a boyfriend, Ava? Is that why you resist me so stubbornly? Some man you’ve got at home waiting for you?” Her green eyes dropped to the table as she stared into her glass of wine as if it would answer for her. “Or... don’t tell me I’ve been fooled this entire time? You’re really some seductress trying to test my willpower? Because I’ll break, Ava. I’m running a very thin line here.”

She stared at me for a full minute, her expression caught somewhere between anxiety and hesitancy. This wasn’t, I realized, something I could push her into. She either would tell me, or she wouldn’t.

And I needed to know.