Holy. Hell. I’m so flustered by what just happened that I don’t even know how to wrap my mind around it.

Did I really just do that? Masturbate in front of my longtime crush—and boss? Thinking about all the naughty things I want him to do to me? Listening to his voice in my ear as I exposed myself and came for him?

It’s so difficult to remain cool when I’m torn between hiding in the bathroom for the rest of the trip and jumping all over him.

My first day of work, and I’ve already crossed a line. Where will things go from here? Will he hold to what he promised—to do all that and more with me?

Ryker grabs his laptop and works on a spreadsheet quietly beside me. I can’t tell if he’s trying to give me space to get myself together or if it really didn’t faze him as much as it did me.

I can smell me on my fingers though. And I bet he can smell me too. I’m both mortified and even more turned on by the thought of him scenting me. So dirty. I barely even recognize myself.

I can’t believe he overheard my conversation in the bathroom. That’s what I get for calling Daria and checking in with her. I should have waited until I got to my hotel room. But if I had, that wouldn’t have happened. And even if it’s insane, I’m glad it did. I’m going to fantasize about that for a long time to come.

God, he’s insanely sexy. And I work for him. Where is this going to go? And where would I even want it to go?

The flight attendant brings me a coffee, and I’m glad for something to focus on. I open one of the magazines in the seat pocket in front of me and flip through it idly.

“Here,” Ryker says, handing me a folder. “Information on Cade Thompson. Study up on this before we meet him for dinner. Normally this will be emailed to you, but we don’t have you set up yet, so I printed a copy.”

I give him a grateful smile—both for helping me go in more educated and giving me something else to think about besides how absurdly hot he is. “Will do.” I pore myself into the material. Study his stats, his background, the news clippings Ryker included gushing about Cade’s potential.

Impressive stuff. He’s only in his twenties as well, but he’s making a name for himself. Enough that Ryker is interested in him. I can see why. He’s attractive and wholesome, and he’s on the rise.

The flight lands, and we exit the plane and hop in another limo. As someone who only rode in a limo once in her entire life—senior prom—I can’t believe I’ve been in one twice today.

My family would be shitting bricks if they could see me now.

I sent them a text message last night letting them know I got the job. My brothers gave me generic congrats. My dad at least was a bit warmer, though he makes sure to caution me about being on time and other menial things I already know. Mom was the warmest, gushing that she couldn’t wait to tell her friends.

We ride to a posh hotel and are dropped off. California is full-on sunny and warm today, and I can’t help but be riveted by the sight of the ocean right behind the hotel. Unreal. Guess it’s good to be a billionaire. I grip my two carry-on bags and follow Ryker inside. He strolls in to the front desk and the clerk waves him right over.

“Mr. Baldwin,” the man gushes as he takes Ryker’s bags and then mine. “We’re so glad to have you back. We have your usual suite, plus the one next door for Miss Bradshaw.” No standing at the front desk waiting in line to be checked in. They practically rolled out the red carpet for him.

“I’m a regular here,” Ryker murmurs as we walk behind the clerk. We get in the elevator, which is probably the fanciest one I’ve ever seen. It’s posh and brass and covered in expensive fabrics and mirrors. Hell, I could probably sleep in here and be happy and comfortable.

When we get to the top floor, we head left. Ryker strolls toward the door of the room he must use often, and the clerk whips out a card key and offers it to him.

“Meet me back here at four,” Ryker says. “Lunch is on your own. I have work to catch up on. Matthew will show you to your room.” It’s like nothing happened between us on the plane. Boss Ryker is back.

I keep my chin high. I can do that too. “Will do.”

Ryker digs into his wallet and hands me a wad of bills. “To cover your expenses while you’re here in case you decide to not eat in the hotel. If you do, charge it to your room.”

I can see hundreds folded in his hand and blanch. “Um, it’s fine. I don’t need that much.”

He sighs and takes my hand, dropping the money in there. “Be back here at four,” he repeats, then turns and goes into his room.

Okay then. I flush as I tuck the wad into my purse and follow Matthew to the room next door.

When he opens the door for me, a small gasp escapes my mouth. “This…is for me?”

It’s incredible.

The room is massive, with a fireplace tucked in the corner. The floor-to-ceiling windows show a magnificent view of the ocean. The bed is the biggest I’ve ever seen. The fabrics are creamy and decadent, with tasteful décor.

“We’re pleased you like the suite,” Matthew says as he hands me the key card.

I reach into my purse to pull out money for him, the way I’ve seen people tip in the movies. But he waves me off.

“Mr. Baldwin takes care of us generously,” he says with a smile. “If you need anything, here’s my direct cell phone.” He hands me a business card. “You’re welcome to have lunch delivered here, or we can have a table ready for you.”

“I’d like to eat down there,” I say. When am I going to get this chance to people watch again? Though I’m tempted to stay holed up in this incredible room, I want to see more of the hotel.

Matthew makes a reservation for me and then leaves.

First, I explore my room. Suite. This place is crazy big. The bathroom is larger than my apartment, and the tub beckons me. Oh, I’m taking a nice, hot soak tonight in there. I lay out my fresh clothes and hop in the shower.

It’s sheer luxury. I’ve never felt so pampered in my life. I know I’m only experiencing this because I’m tagging along with Ryker, but I’m humbled and overwhelmed. Will I ever be a big enough agent to warrant this type of treatment, or anything close?

I snort as I lather my hair. Not likely. He’s also a billionaire, I remind myself. He’s offering a fair base salary that’ll pay my expenses, but the bulk of my income will be commission-based. And that means working my ass off to get those clients.

I’m gonna charm the socks off Cade Thompson and show him why he should work with our company. This is one helluva chance I’m being given, and I’ll prove to Ryker why he was right to hire me.

When I’m done and showered off, I fix my hair and makeup, get in my clean clothes, and head downstairs with the folder on Cade. Perfect chance to review it more over lunch.

I spend the next hour and a half memorizing everything I can about Cade. I use my phone to look up more interviews with him and to see what sports channels have had to say about his potential.

The food is fantastic. I ordered a chicken sandwich and fries—sorry, pomme frites—and devour it as I read. I’m already envisioning what sorts of endorsement deals we could get that would be suitable for Cade. I could easily see him doing a sports drink or sneaker commercial.

Ryker’s probably thought about all of this though. I remind myself to not get ahead of my level. I’m here as his assistant and to learn, not to butt in. He’ll likely not appreciate that. So I take notes in the margins and write down ideas that might be useful, but I’ll keep mum unless I feel the opportunity is there to share my thoughts.

After lunch, I slip the folder into my bag and stroll around. Head to the beach behind the hotel and savor the feel of sand between my toes. Watch families together, smiling and laughing and loving.

A small pang hits my chest. I never had that. I know my family loves me, but I’ve never felt like I measured up, like I was good enough. My two brothers, on the other hand, could do no wrong in my father’s eyes. Because they happened to be born with penises, whereas I was not.

Well, who cares? I’m here, on my first day at my dream job in California of all places. I’m going to travel. Going to meet famous sports stars. Going to make dreams come true—for me and my clients.

I let the thought buoy me as I meander around, then head back to the room to freshen up before meeting Ryker at four.

When I knock on his door, my stomach is jittery. I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s going to bring up what happened on the plane. It almost seems like I dreamed it.

The door opens, and he gives me a nod of approval, then lets me in. We sit in the living room area and have a quick meeting, discussing what he expects of me. Which is basically to smile and be friendly and personable. We want Cade to see what kind of treatment he’d get with us if he signed with our agency.

As he’s talking, my nerves grow stronger and stronger. I’m really doing this. And now I’m anxious as hell. What if I mess this up somehow? Ryker would fire me. Plus I’d bear the guilt of knowing I caused more damage to his company.

He eyes me. “You okay?”

I swallow and nod. Fake it ‘til you make it. Paste on a smile. “Totally fine.”

Ryker gets up from the chair across from me and slides beside me on the couch. I feel the heat of his thigh pressing against mine, and I’m reminded of earlier today. I draw my lower lip between my teeth and try to maintain my cool. “I know what you’re feeling,” he says. “Your first meeting is intense as hell. I ran to the bathroom and puked halfway through.”

I blink. “Whoa.”

“Thankfully there was mouthwash,” he said in a wry tone. “Came back to the table and signed him. Use your nerves as energy. You’re going to be fine. I’ll do most of the talking. Just watch what I say and do. This is a good learning opp.”

I’m touched by his effort to help me feel more relaxed and comfortable. “Thank you,” I murmur. The fact that he understands and isn’t embarrassing me about it eases my anxiety some. “You ready?”

Ryker stands and offers me his hand, tugging me toward him. I’m scant inches away. Those brilliant eyes pierce me, and I find my breath catching in my lungs again. He seems to impact me this way, making it hard to breathe. To think.

Off balance, but deliciously so.

“Let’s go,” Ryker says. “It’s game time.”

* * *

Cade Thompson looks in person just like he does online and in pictures. No, actually, he looks better. Dusty blond hair, tanned skin, blue eyes. He’s a strapping all-American guy who seems like someone straight out of the 1950’s. Even his choice of a polo shirt and jeans reflect this style.

I can see why Ryker’s eager to get him on our list.

Cade is standing near the bar, sipping on a soda. Not even a beer. God, is this guy for real?

“Cade,” Ryker proclaims as we walk over to his side.

He spins around and faces us. The two men clap backs as they man hug. Then his gaze lands on me. “Ma’am,” he says in a slow drawl, giving me a nod of acknowledgment. He holds out his hand, and I take it in a firm shake. “So pleased to meet ya.”

I like him instantly. The discomfort and anxiety I felt earlier melts away. “I’m pleased to meet you too.”

Cade smiles at Ryker. “Y’all wanna go have a seat and talk?”

“Would love to.” Ryker’s smile is so big it’s all teeth. His whole persona has changed. He’s relaxed, warm, but definitely in control. It’s interesting to see him shift. Is this what he’s really like, or is he just putting it on to make Cade feel comfortable?

We’re led to a table near the back, where we will have privacy. The two men chit-chat for a while, with Cade’s laidback speech interspersed with “Yes, sir.” The guy is legit the most southern gentleman I’ve ever met.

As they talk, I stay quiet. But not for long, because Cade turns his attention to me. “Miss Bradshaw,” he says, a slow smile spreading on his face and lighting his eyes.

“Andrea,” I say. “And you don’t need to call me ma’am. I think we’re around the same age.”

He laughs. I swear, if he had a cowboy hat on, he’d tip it. You can tell the guy is from Texas. “Fair enough, Andrea. So how did Ryker here lure you into working for his company?”

“Oh, he didn’t have to lure me. I was thrilled to get an interview. The Baldwin Corporation has an amazing reputation.” I know I’m treading on thin ice here, given the recent scandal, so I choose my words carefully. “I went to school for this reason. I believe in Ryker’s mission statement and I knew that working anywhere else, for any other sports agency, would be settling.”

Ryker is quiet; I can’t read his face, but he doesn’t seem upset by what I said. Hopefully I didn’t overstep.

Our waiter comes by and brings drinks, then takes appetizer orders. Ryker doesn’t need to spell out that Cade can have whatever he wants. He has to be aware that he’s being wined and dined here.

“So,” Ryker says after the waiter leaves. He leans forward and pins a stare on Cade. “I want you to tell me where you want to go.”

Cade tilts his head and grins. “To the top, of course.” He winks at me, and it’s charming, not creepy. “Same place you want, I imagine. So did you just graduate from school? You’re pretty young.”

“I did, back in the summer, from a college in Connecticut.”

Ryker sips his beer. “Yeah, Andrea’s from a small town like you are. How does your family feel about all this, by the way? What are their thoughts?”

He’s smooth, I’ll give him that. Ryker knows how to turn the conversation back to what he wants to discuss. Which is Cade.

It works, and Cade goes on about his parents and sisters, how he’s the first one ever to graduate from college. “My folks sure were proud,” he says, beaming. “My graduation party was the biggest ever held in my town. Pretty much everyone was there.”

“Imagine how nuts they’ll go when you’re drafted,” Ryker muses. “Do you have a team you’d love to play for? Somewhere close to home?”

Cade shrugs. “Sure, it might be nice. But I’m open to getting the best deal I can.” He looks over at me and gives a broad wink. “Though my folks would sure love me to be nearby. You know how parents are. Were yours like that, Ryker?”

He stiffens, and I remember that he was raised by his grandparents—a fact I learned early on in his career when I obsessively studied everything I could about him. In fact, he never knew who his father was, and his mother was murdered when he was eight. My heart ached whenever I watched interviews where it would be brought up time and again. That has to be a sore subject for him.

But Ryker recovers fast and says in a smooth tone, “My grandparents were very supportive of whatever I wanted to do. They were just happy to see me have a plan and a focus. I was a bit of a wild child in my teen years. Not nearly as responsible and put together as you are.”

Deflect, deflect. Ryker’s skilled at conversation, mingling honesty and flattery in a nuanced mix. I make mental notes about his approach. It’s enlightening, watching him sell without being overly aggressive. I expected something different. Something more in Cade’s face, a hard game about why Cade should sign with him or regret it forever.

Instead, Ryker is getting Cade to open up to him. Being more of a friend, an attentive listener. I don’t think Cade has a big ego, but he is in sports, and clearly he wants to be a star. There is some sort of ego involved in that. Ryker gently massages that need, asking Cade about where he envisions his future.

Wisely, he keeps the conversation away from The Baldwin Corporation’s recent scandals. I’m sure he realizes it’s going to take time for Cade to trust he won’t be embezzled. Baby steps. Instead, he brings up all the connections he has in the industry. Baseball was his gig, and he knows it inside and out. Not many other agents have that sort of knowledge.

But Ryker does. And I can learn from him how to use his experience to help win clients over.