Roxy

The guys had better get ready,” I say, twirling my hair around my finger. I’m riding shotgun down the road with my best friend, Hannah Fowler, in her beat-up Lexus sedan. The windows are rolled down, the wind blowing through the cabin and ruffling our hair as the downtown streets whiz by.

It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out, and boy, have I missed it.

But tonight I’m going to let loose, I vow. Enjoy myself for once.

“Why’s that?” Hannah asks as she speeds through a yellow light, glancing over at me. With shoulder-length blonde hair, big round cheeks, and eyes that are as blue as they are huge, she looks a lot like Amanda Seyfried, and she’s played it up a few times. Equipped with a sense of humor that almost rivals mine, she’s basically been my bestie since I struck out on my own. We’re inseparable.

I grin, flashing my notorious wink I learned from my big sister, Mindy, and boast, “’Cause I’m about to release the Rox on them!”

“Did I just hear you just say you’re gonna gobble all the cocks?” Hannah yells over the roar of the wind.

I laugh. “You know damn well that wasn’t what I said!” I got ninety-nine problems and gobbling cock won’t be one. If anything, that’s on Hannah’s menu, considering the tight black number she’s wearing that looks like it’s been painted on her frame.

Hannah giggles. “Well, it’s better than unleashing your deprived vajayjay on some poor man!”

“I can’t help it,” I say, shaking my head. “You go ten months without sex and see how you feel. Knowing you, they’d have to call the Ghostbusters because you’d have fucked half a dozen men to death.”

We share a good laugh and I smile as I let my arm hang out the window, enjoying the night breeze against my skin. We haven’t even gotten to the best part of the night and I’m already in a good mood. It’s a far cry from the sour, cantankerous pain in the ass I’ve become lately.

Don’t get me wrong—my job at Franklin Consolidated is okay and all, but it’s not my first love. The grin slowly fades from my face as I think back to three years ago. I was working the club scene and singing at Trixie’s, a local club back home, busting my ass for my big break.

It never came. There were too many rejection letters, too many times I got passed up on auditions. I almost tried out for X-Factor but got sick right before with a bad cold, so even that didn’t go as planned. Eventually, I set the microphone aside and went back to school. Mom at least had the decency to not say I told you so about my short-lived career as a singer. Instead, she gave me encouragement when I said I was moving away to finish up the degree that I’d been putting off.

I don’t really know why I moved away. My stepfather, John, has more money than my family could spend in five lifetimes and is more than happy to share it. Champagne, designer dresses, cocktail parties, and vacationing on yachts. I could’ve had it all, the total deb socialite.

But nepotism is not a life I want for myself. I want to stand on my own two feet like my sister, Mindy. Sure, she ended up marrying a super-handsome, rich stud, but she worked her ass off before that and still does.

Thinking about her, I feel guilt tighten my chest. I haven’t talked to her or anyone in my family for months. It’s partly because we all lead such busy lives, but I’d argue that Mindy’s life is perfect now. She’s got a great husband, two adorable kids, and a business of her own that she loves running.

I’m nowhere near there. And I can’t help but have this nagging feeling that even if I’m successful in my new career path, I may never get that feeling. So yeah, a night like this is just what the doctor ordered.

“Seriously, though, I need this,” I tell Hannah. “We should do this more often.”

As a gift to us both, Hannah decided to hit the grand opening of Club Jasmine, a brand new nightclub that’s being opened by a couple of rich pricks whose names I don’t know. It’s supposed to be hot and ritzy. I just want to get to the hot part.

Hannah nods. “I know, honey. You’ve been working hard for what? Ten months? And already getting a promotion. You need to reward yourself.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Satisfaction rolls through me. It’s about the only positive thing I can say about my job. My hard work has paid off. I’ve been recognized by the execs, and starting next week, I’m getting promoted, working as an assistant to the new regional president. I’m not his secretary. I’m going to be one of the junior analysts, gathering data and such for him. I can see myself going up the ladder in a couple of years and making big money.

But at what cost? I think to myself. At this pace, I’ll be sitting in a corner office with nobody to come home to, my best years behind me. The pay might be good, but is it worth giving up the one thing that brings me joy?

Hannah pulls up to a red light, and I force that troubling thought from my mind, checking my makeup in the mirror. I’ve got dark hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and pouty lips, just like all the women in my family, and I’m pretty enough, I guess. But my spark, that mischievousness that made men weak in the knees, is absent from my eyes.

I need to get back to doing what I love, even if only on the weekends. Screw prioritizing work.

“What you should be worried about is the poor guy who’s gonna need a heart monitor when I get done with him,” I say, determined to stay upbeat, snapping my lipstick closed.

Hannah gives me a serious look and deadpans. “Is it really that bad? I thought you were just joking at first, but Jesus, Rox, I’m kinda scared. You ever see that movie Teeth, with the vagina that grows fangs? I feel like that’s you right now.”

“Oh, go to hell!” I laugh, but Hannah grins.

“Seriously, maybe we should just call it a night before you get yourself in trouble. I mean, I’m sure you’ve got something in your drawer at home that will take the edge off.”

I laugh. “Sorry, only the real thing will do. I prefer my meat hard, throbbing, and able to spray paint the walls.”

Hannah gags. “Gross! Just make sure you use protection. Don’t want you to wind up on Maury waiting to hear ‘You are the father!’ and the crowd going apeshit.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll make sure to snag some of his DNA just in case.”

We both laugh as she turns a corner, and we see a line of cars stretching up the street.

Despite all my talk, I probably won’t even sleep with anyone. I’m just here to have fun, unwind, and relax. And if it comes along with getting to flirt with a cute as fuck guy, I’m all for it. The gears might be rusty, but I bet I can still twerk my ass with the best of them after I get warmed up.

My breath catches in my throat as the club comes into view. It’s beautiful. The parking lot is big and well-lit. The building itself looks like anything but a nightclub, with a large fountain out front and beautiful marble steps that are flanked by grand columns leading to the white double-door entryway. There’s a long line wrapped around the building, and I can tell the grand opening ceremony is already over as they’re just starting to let people in.

I’ve seen a lot of clubs, but I’m truly impressed with the presentation of this one. Everything I see says the owners sank a lot of money into this place. Honestly, it puts Trixie’s, with its neon sign, disco ball in the ceiling, and pink and purple ambient lighting to shame.

There’s no room to park in the main lot, so we have to go to the overflow lot down the street, barely finding a parking spot. Getting out, a cool night breeze sweeps the area, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin and excitement to warm my blood. Overhead, the full moon makes me feel like a wolf on the prowl.

Hannah peers at me, looking around my backside. Unlike her, I’ve opted for a red club dress, one that hugs my curves in all the right places. I got it from Mindy, who had her fair share of good luck in it, so maybe it’ll do the same for me. “Damn, girl, your ass didn’t look that big when we left home. Did you stuff it with some pads or something?”

I place my hands on my hips and boast, “Girl, seriously? This is all-natural! They write songs about an ass like this!” I start popping my ass, reciting some classic lyrics.

Hannah bends over, grabbing her sides while laughing. “Oh, my God, stop! You’re killing me.”

“Stop making fun of my bootyliciousness then and let’s go!”

Giggling, we make our way to the club, evading people on the street. I see a couple of guys look my way and I feel a little thrill. I don’t see anything I like, though, so I keep going until we reach the club and the line that’s jam-packed out the building. Luckily for us, Hannah has a reservation for us so we don’t have to wait. I’d like to dance sometime before next Tuesday.

We walk past the men in line, and I feel more eyes on me. These men are all dressed well. There are no open shirts and rolled sleeves but rather suits and ties. It must be the club theme for the grand opening. My confidence should grow, but I’m hit by a sudden feeling of anxiety. Am I really ready to rock someone’s world or am I just looking for companionship? It’s been so long since I’ve been in the social company of the opposite sex. I don’t even know.

From inside the club, the bass of the music thrums against my body as we reach the door. My heart begins to pound. I almost feel like I’m back at Trixie’s. Almost. The two handsome bouncers are dressed in fitted suits, their hair cut professionally and their designer sunglasses blocking their eyes. They kinda look like the Men In Black. Whoever is running this place isn’t playing around.

“We have a reservation,” Hannah says. I don’t know how she got it. She’s got connections, I guess. Hannah gives her name and the bouncers let us in, pulling the large double-doors wide.

The entire interior is just as luxurious as the exterior. The bar stretches around a good quarter of the large rotunda that makes up the main room, lit up beautifully in blues and dim whites. Out on the floor, beautiful women and men dressed in great suits are already dancing beneath a balcony that overlooks everything. There’s a crowd up there, and I bet it’s the VIP section from the way things look.

My eyes are pulled to the stage that’s set up so that the VIP balcony can watch, and I feel my heart speed up some more. I want to get up there. I want to feel their eyes. I want their applause. I want to rock this place out.

“This place is incredible,” I finally say. It’s no lie, either. Everything, down to the smallest detail, is amazing.

“Isn’t it?” Hannah says, perfectly serious. “They really went all out.” Hannah’s eyes hungrily rove over the crowd. “But less talking and more stalking. Let’s hit the bar.”

We’re not even seated for a full minute before some blonde guy is hitting on Hannah. In my ‘lucky’ red dress, I feel a little deflated.

My disappointment is short-lived, unfortunately.

“Mind if I have a seat?” asks a voice. I look up into a pale but handsome face.

“Not at all,” I say politely.

He sits down beside me and grins, his eyes piercing into me. For some reason, my flesh crawls at his look. It’s just a bit off, even if he is hot.

“So where you from?” His voice has a nasal, whiny tone it, and I regret telling him to have a seat.

Somewhere you’re not, I want to say, and hopefully will never be. The words are on my lips, but I’m not comfortable being rude.

“Summerfield,” I say diplomatically. Come on, it’s been ten months. I should give the guy a chance. Maybe he’s just nervous and he’s actually sweet.

He arches an eyebrow. “Summerfield, huh? Where’s that?”

I wave my hands nondescriptly. “Off somewhere on the coast.”

He chuckles. “It’s like that, huh?” He nods at the waiter. “Can I have a Bud Light for my lady friend here?”

“You don’t have to buy me a drink,” I try to protest. I hate beer.

“I insist” he says firmly, grinning at me. “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone without a beer.”

“Is he the one?” Hannah whispers sarcastically in my ear. I could just kill her. The guy saddled next to her doesn’t give me the creeps and remind me of Draco Malfoy.

I mouth No, giving her an outraged look.

“Remember what you said. Unleash the Rox!” she jokes.

More like I’m thinking of unleashing The Rock to come lay the smackdown on this dude’s ass if he doesn’t take a hint.

The beer comes, and Mr. Weird tries to talk me up some more. “So, what do you do?”

“Office stuff, nothing cool,” I reply, trying to politely let the guy know I’m not interested. “You’d be bored.”

But he’s not having it. “Oh, every job seems boring when you’re doing it,” he says, fiddling with his drink. “Hey, try the beer. It’s pretty good.”

“Not just yet. I don’t want to have to run to the ladies’ room all night,” I reply. Actually, hitting up the ladies’ room might be a good idea. It’d get me away from this guy.

“Oh, I get that. But come on, what could one beer hurt? Hey, if you need to pee, I’ll escort you to the guy’s room. Nobody’ll say anything.”

Seriously? Now I don’t feel bad. My gut feeling was right. This dude is a creep. As the music changes, I mutter under my breath, “Somebody please fucking save me.”

Jake - One Hour Ago . . .

“This is gonna be epic,” Nathan Scott, my childhood friend and business partner, boasts as the limo we’re in rounds the corner. He’s seated across from me, dressed sharp as a tack for our big night.

“All the cards have lined up for us,” he continues. “We’ve got a great local band and an assload of local celebrities. We even got that girl who’s got like two million Instagram followers because of her ass. That ass and Club Jasmine are going to be in front of two million people by the end of the night. I’m telling you, we’ve got everything.” Nathan claps his hands and rubs them together. “This is going to be huge, Jake. Huge!”

I shift again in my cushioned seat, messing with the cufflink of my shirt. I can’t deny the excitement in Nathan’s words, but I know you can do all the right things and still have a business fail. So I’m not getting my hopes up too much yet.

The nightclub was his idea, developed right about the time the rumors started about Graham Holdings, the company I work for, buying out Franklin Consolidated. I’d been reluctant to invest at first. But when Nathan laid out the numbers, I was sold. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I say.

“Damn, man, can you be any more excited?” Nathan says, peering at me with a scowl. “This is a big day for us.”

It’s not that I’m not excited, and I usually consider myself calm and collected under pressure, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sweating bullets. We poured a lot of money in this thing. In fact, I poured everything I’ve saved into this.

I need this to succeed.

Especially when I have Sophie depending on me to take care of her, I think to myself. Sophie’s my sixteen-year-old sister who was orphaned six years ago when our parents were taken in a car accident.

She wanted to come with me tonight. Of course, she knew she couldn’t since she’s underage. “You can let me in. I don’t even need a fake ID,” she’d said, bouncing up and down and trying to look her cutest. Maybe that works when she wants me to let her buy a new skirt on my credit card, but this isn’t the same thing.

Still, it makes me smile. I’d done the same shit when I was younger, but I’m not going to let her break off into bad habits.

“See it?” Nathan asks as I’m still silent in my thoughts, his Bronx accent coming on full as he pulls my mind back to the limo. “The fuck? It’s all right in front of you. We got the whole fucking world at our feet.”

Nathan's lucky that he works independently because he curses like a sailor.

I adjust my collar, rolling my neck. I’m not in a full-on tux, but I’m in a designer suit that I bought just for the club. It’s a slightly brighter blue than I’d wear for my day job with a pristine white dress shirt and metallic red tie. Nathan insisted I wear something that ‘pops’. “I was just saying there’s a still lot of work to do, that’s all.”

It’s easy for Nathan to feel more nonchalant about the whole project. He’s a stockbroker who’s gotten rich with other people’s money, whereas I’ve had to work for mine. My grandfather lent me a name and a legacy that got me into a good school, but Mom’s love of Dad meant a middle-class life. Climbing the corporate ladder has been grueling. I’ve busted my ass and more than once pulled eighteen-hour days to make sure that I’m in a place of power. I’m going to be the Regional President for the Franklin Consolidated subsidiary, and I plan to do great things with the role.

Still, I’ve got responsibilities, Sophie being the chief one. The five million I sank into this club could set her up for life. Could being the operative word. “We have a long way to go,” I say.

“And I have every confidence we’ll make back every red cent,” Nathan says. “You do too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have signed on.”

It's hard to argue. I knew this was a risk, but I don’t mind that. I’ve always been guided by my instincts, and when something looks good, I go for it.

I shrug. “You’re right. It’s just a helluva few days—our grand opening and this merger. I start in my new position on Monday.”

“Oh, what’s up with that?”

“I’m being sent to kick a little ass for an underperforming unit.” To say it’s been underperforming is a mild way of putting it. “I’ve been told to cut the fat or burn the place down if I have to. I’m not looking forward to being ‘that’ guy. I know some of the in-house employees are going to hate me.”

“Oh, well. Fuck ‘em is what I’d say,” Nathan says. “You do you.”

“Too bad I love my job,” I say. “They might hate me for a little while because I’m new, but trust me, they’re gonna respect me by next quarter. Those who are left.”

“If you say so,” Nathan says. “Glad I don’t have to do that shit. Making money with other people's money is my specialty. I don’t have to work on someone’s job. Which is why you should be jumping for this club to succeed. If it goes right, you can retire off all the Benjamins we bank.”

I chuckle. “That’s the plan,” I say, not wanting to tell him what I’m thinking. Truth is, I don’t think I’ll be satisfied even if this does turn into a huge income generating machine. I can’t imagine just retiring right now. I work too much to even imagine what that would be like.

“Speaking of which,” Nathan says as the limo rolls up to the sidewalk of the club. There’s a good amount of press, and even a few of the VIPs are gathered outside the club. I’m as impressed by it during the day as I know it’s going to look once the sun goes down. It was one of the things I insisted on, that our club looked as classy during the day as it will at night.

The crowd applauds as I get out. I shake hands with our local boxing champ and pose with him for a few publicity shots on the red carpet as the crowd builds. Cameras flash, and as the sun touches the horizon behind the club, it’s a certified throng.

Nathan and I both adjust our suits, and I wave as we mount the platform in front of the fountain. Nathan pauses, giving me a wink. “It’s show time!”

I know we look strange. I tower over Nathan at six foot three while he’s a modest five foot six. The cameras are flashing in our faces as soon as we’re ready, press calling our names and people in the crowd already chanting for the club.

Our staff strings the big red ribbon across the stairs leading up to the entrance, and I swear that I feel like I’m at a Hollywood premier. When Nathan brings over the special scissors that we’re supposed to use for the ceremony, really just painted up hedge clippers, the camera flashes are nearly blinding. I lift my hand, taking the wireless mic from Nathan.

“Thank you all for coming,” I start. “I’m not going to say that we’re as important as opening a new wing at the university hospital. But I’m proud of the work our team has done, and I’m looking forward to enjoying a few hours relaxing here. Thank you again.”

There’s polite applause, and I take one arm of the clippers while Nathan takes the other.

A cheer goes up from the crowd as Nathan and I slice through the ribbon, and the two of us lead the VIPs up the stairs and through the doors. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. I’ve been so busy setting up my place here in town and getting things settled with my transition to Franklin Consolidated. But seeing it like this, I have to give it to the architects. The place is a dream, with the perfect blend of classic touches that I like along with cutting-edge lighting and styling. It’s going to be a unique club for a very long time.

I check out the bar and the stage, then head to the VIP section overlooking the club just as the doormen start letting in the regular customers.

“This club is amazing,” one of the first women through the doors says to Nathan as she comes up to where we are. She’s going around and checking everything out I guess.

By the look in Nathan’s eyes, I don’t think he’d be opposed to taking her home tonight. “Thank you. My partner here helped, of course. But all the heavy lifting was on me,” he says to her.

I smirk. Nathan’s going to take the credit, huh? “Well, I let you do the heavy lifting since you’re closer to the floor. Less distance to move.”

The girl chuckles, but Nathan’s undeterred. “You know what they say, big things come in small packages. And you’re right, having three legs to stand on helps.”

I have to chuckle. Nathan is an outrageous flirt, and it works. The girl’s eyes flicker down to his crotch before she smiles. Nathan pats the seat on the couch next to him, and she sits down, making me shake my head. He’s going to have a fun night.

“Champagne, sir,” the waitress says, handing me a glass. She’s wearing a form-fitting blouse, a damn near painted-on skirt, and is even some wearing some thick-rimmed glasses, totally playing up the naughty professional vibe of the night. But she’s as professional as can be, just like we instructed all of our employees.

It was one of the things I insisted on. While I know Nathan would love to sample what some of the girls could offer him, I won’t allow it on my watch. I want to set an example for Sophie, and that means showing her that I can treat my employees with respect. I can be a gentleman. And I want my employees acting with respect too.

“So how much do you think we’ll clear tonight?” I ask, getting down to business. One of the local celebs comes up, shaking hands. I return the favor, sending over a bottle of Kristal as thanks for coming by.

“You send more bottles like that? We might break even,” Nathan laughs. “We’re doing just fine, man. I’ll check with the manager before we leave tonight. He’ll get me an estimate. But remember, tonight isn’t about turning profit. It’s about getting rep. We get rep now, and we make bank later.”

We chat for another forty-five minutes or so, and I’m amazed as the club fills up. There’s no way the folks still outside are getting in for hours unless they’ve got a reservation.

“Great turnout!” Nathan crows, loving the flow of people still coming through the doors. It’s fun, and best of all, authentic.

“It is,” I murmur. I have to say even I’m impressed. “It’s a weight off my chest . . .”

My voice trails off as I see her walk in. She stands out in the crowd of mostly whites and blacks in a fire engine red dress that hugs her body like it was custom made for her. Long brown hair frames her angelic face, and while I’m too far away to see her eyes, her lips are perfect. The way her cheekbones are shaped, she looks like . . . “An Angel.”

“What?” Nathan asks, but I barely hear him as I watch her breathlessly. She goes over to the bar with a girl who’s obviously her friend or wingman, and a thread of anger courses through my head as I see some guy come up on her. I grip my glass harder as I see him laying on the moves, even though she doesn’t seem too into it.

Nathan waves his hand in front of my face. “Yo, Jake, are you listening to me?”

I blink rapidly, shaking my head as I turn back to him. “Huh?”

“I said this place is going to change our lives.”

“Hold that thought,” I say, my eyes and my mind on one thing only. I toss back the rest of my glass and get to my feet, heading for the stairs. As I leave the VIP area, I’m not thinking about Nathan, or money, or even how well our grand opening is going to turn out tonight. All I can see is the angel in a red dress.

Roxy

“So, how about we go back to my place?” the guy asks for the second time. Is ‘no thanks’ somehow going to change in three minutes?

I try to hold back my annoyed scowl. Go back to his place? I’m about ready to splash my untouched beer in his fucking face. I’ve turned him down for a dance. He’s not that bad-looking. I’m sure he could find some girl in here, even with his creepy ass vibe. Why the fuck’s he still here with me?

I look around and see that Hannah’s deserted me. I can see her over on the dance floor, twerking her ass up against some cute dude. I’m certain he’s about five minutes from blowing a load in his slacks with the way she’s moving.

I look back over just in time to see Dr. Strangelove pushing the bottle closer to me, like he’s trying to remind me that it’s there and force me to drink it, but he’s gotta learn that there’s a lot of scrap in this little body. “Drink up,” he says.

That’s it. I just can't with this guy.

I open my mouth to finally tell the guy to fuck off. I’ve been overly polite and have made it perfectly clear that I don’t want what he’s selling. But before the words can leave my lips, a penetrating voice behind me speaks up. “Everything okay, Angel? Sorry I’m late. I was busy upstairs.”

I spin in my seat to get a look at the voice and my heart stops. Seriously, I might need a defibrillator to get it back beating again as the breath leaves my lungs. I take in the purest blue eyes I’ve ever seen under dark hair that glimmers and sparkles as the lights of the club catch deep within it. His chiseled jawline frames a sensual mouth, and it’s hard to pull my eyes away from his gaze and take the rest of him in.

He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his custom-tailored suit fitting him perfectly.

Fuck being a heartthrob. He’s a heartstopper. That’s what this guy is.

My mouth opens like a fish, but Mr. Heartstopper winks at me and I’m able to brush off my momentary shock enough to play along. “No, honey, I was just having him warm your seat for you until you got back from that little curb stomp appointment.” I flash a smile, not letting the nervousness I feel flicker through. I turn and give Dr. Strangelove a pointed look. “Does that guy still have all of his front teeth?”

My former creepy-ass suitor scowls, and for a moment, I fear he’s about ready to fight for his seat. But when Mr. Heartstopper gives him a hard look, he gets up from his seat, mumbles something, and disappears in the crowd.

Relief flows through me and some of the tension leaves my body when I can’t see his face anymore. The music thrums, mixing with my heartbeat as I look at my savior, and I feel like this night’s going to change my life. The stage is almost prepared for the main act, a rock band that’s hot on the charts and has a fresh sound. I’ve been looking forward to it, but now I have another sweet distraction.

Trying to shake off my anxiety, I poke the guy playfully in the chest. “You got a blue leotard under there?”

He arches an eyebrow at me, confused but with a grin on his face. Fuck, he’s hot. “No, why?”

“The way you showed up and saved me from that creep, you must be Superman,” I joke. “I’m wondering where you keep the red cape.”

He chuckles, taking the seat next to me. “Nope, not Superman, but I have to admit to being called the man of steel a few times in my life.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Modest much?” Looking at him and his cut physique, though, I don’t doubt him. That suit can only hide so much of his body.

“You asked what I had under my suit. I was just telling you. Being real, you know?” His eyes twinkle, and something tells me he’s biting back a joke. I can’t help it, I smile. I like a man who can keep up with my sense of humor.

But the other half of my mind is dirty enough to know what he’s talking about. He has balls of steel and a huge, throbbing, steely cock. Fuck, we haven’t even introduced ourselves and I’m already getting hot.

“So what’s your name then, Superman?” I ask.

He chuckles as if he’s unused to a woman being so direct with him. “Jake,” he says. “How about you, Angel?”

“Roxy,” I say. I love the way he calls me Angel, even though I feel like anything but right now. Angel definitely sounds better than horny succubus. “And before you ask, yes, I rock hard.”

He laughs. “Cheeky, aren’t you? I like the name. It’s cute.”

“Why not sexy? Or hot? I like that better than cute.”

“I’d say you have all three covered,” he growls lightly, sitting next to me. “I can think of a few more words to describe you too.”

A flush comes to my cheeks at his compliment and I’m momentarily robbed of speech. This guy’s a silver-tongued devil, and he’s got a voice that seems to heat my body every time he speaks.

He nods at my beer. “I don’t peg you for a Bud Light girl.”

I recover and shake my head, making a face. “I’m not—haven’t touched it. I don’t really like beer.”

He grabs the bottle and sets it in front of him and signals one of the waitresses. “Let’s get something new for the lady!”

She comes over and gives him a look like she’d love to take him out back and ride him like a cowgirl. I know Jake has to be used to it though. The man’s probably a player. Then again, maybe that’s what I need tonight—a man who knows what he’s got, knows how to use it, and knows how to make me scream to the heavens. “Something in particular?”

He turns to me, giving me a wink. “She’d like a Sex On My Face.”

I gawk, shocked at his forwardness, but the waitress doesn’t even bat an eye. And in my mind's eye, I can see myself grinding all over those sexy lips of his. My face turns red at the thought and I push it away. For now. “Of course, sir.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, trusting that I was just ordered a drink and not a room at the Holiday Inn.

“Nonsense, you’ve got to try it,” Jake says with a laugh. “It’s one of the house specials.”

His persuasive charm just wins me over. The waitress brings back the drink, and at first I think it looks like an iced tea. I take a sip, my eyes widening. “This is good!”

He winks at me. “Told you. Take it slow. I’ve heard that they can hit hard.” He takes the beer and sniffs it, then turns it up, drinking about half of it. “So, how’d you hear about the club?”

“My friend Hannah,” I say, pointing her out on the floor. “She told me about it. I needed a night out to relax and have some fun.”

And I need a man like you to take care of a certain need, I think to myself.

Jake nods. “Well, you picked the right place. Even for opening night, it’s not over the top. This place has class.”

“You’re telling me,” I agree. I think it’ll be what makes Club Jasmine popular for a long time. They could pack this place and tear the dance floor up, sure. But the building’s got enough inherent class and charm that it’ll be a chill spot too. “What about you? What brings you here?”

A slight smirk comes to one of his lips. “I’m friends with one of the owners.”

I stare at him as I take a sip of the delicious drink. It’s something else he’s not letting on to, but honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I didn't come here to learn his life history. And I damn sure don’t care about his friend. I just can’t get over how handsome he is. Those lips look like they could do damage between my legs, and the more I see them move, the more I want to feel them pressed against mine.

He asks me more questions about myself, but I can barely hear or find the focus to answer. I can only focus on his perfect smile. The more he talks, the more I feel like I want him. Even if it is only for a night.

I finish my drink in a hungry gulp and lick my lips in the most seductive manner I can. Damn, I don’t know if that drink was seriously that good or if literally anything would taste amazing right now.

“I was thinking . . .” I say, running my hand along his arm. Shit, I’m playing the seductress to the hilt. I even have my next line planned, something about how I’d like to have a little more sex . . . on his face.

He raises a brow at me, and anxiety twists my stomach as I look into his eyes. I’m suddenly uncertain. He has to get more pussy than animal control. My ego can’t take a hit right now.

But looking around the room, I realize one thing. He’s the only one I want. If I can’t have Jake, I’m going home alone.

I suck in a breath. Fuck it—you only live once.

“Look, would you like to go somewhere?” I cringe. I know I must sound so fucking desperate, like some slutty skank. But isn’t that what I came here for? I’m hot and heavy and this guy is doing crazy things to my ovaries just by sitting next to me. I need him.

He turns, looking me in the eye. “Direct, aren’t we? I can’t imagine an angel like you . . .”

I’m shocked when he seems to steel himself. He turns the bottle up and in one gulp drinks the rest, smacking it down on the bar, and growls almost ferally. “Let’s go.”

He gets up from the seat and I jump to my feet. He puts his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the back of the club. “Where are we going?”

“Told you, I know the owners. There are . . . private places around here,” he says, and I dismiss it. Fuck, I don’t care if he takes me into the VIP bathroom. I’ll take it right now.

The show is about to start for the band. I’m gonna miss it but I don’t care. He takes me through a door and into a hallway. We come up to another door, and like magic, he produces a key to get in. Before I can ask him why he has a key, he’s on me like a dog in heat, pushing me up against the wall and devouring my mouth in a hungry, fiery kiss.

Our lips crash together, and he’s doing crazy things to my body, his hands roaming over my dress and lighting my skin on fire.

“Take me,” I moan, my thighs trembling with need. Ten long months. And if that huge, hard cock pressing against my thigh is any indication, I want it right fucking now.

“Not here,” he half-moans, half-slurs in lust, stepping back and taking me by the hand. He leads me down the darkened hall to a room. He opens the door and turns on the light. It’s a medium-sized room with a bed and some rugs in the center. What the fuck is a bed doing back here?

But I don’t care about that. I want him.

He’s back on me again, and we’re kissing, his hands tugging on my dress. With every inch of my skin that’s exposed, the fire in my stomach grows as I feel all the sexual frustration start to boil over.

“I’m gonna give you a night to remember,” I growl in his ear as I pull off his shirt. “You’ll never forget Roxy.”

Damn, call the exorcist. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like the devil himself has possessed my body.

I rip off his shirt with an animalistic snarl. The air freezes in my lungs when I see the hard abs of his stomach. He wasn’t fucking lying about being the man of steel. The rest of him has to be pure perfection.

“Your tits are amaaazing,” he says, his slur growing, his hands squeezing my breast weakly.

What the fuck? Damn, how is he drunk already? He only had that one beer. I pay it no mind. I push him back onto the bed, tugging my skirt up to my waist and mounting his hips, feeling the hard bulge of his groin rub against my panties.

“Fuuuuuck, baby,” he moans. His voice is sluggish. “I love how aggressive youuuu are . . .”

“Shh, baby,” I tell him, slipping my dress down and showing him my breasts, turning my dress into just a band around my waist. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

I swear it looks like he’s fighting to stay awake. But I don’t need long to send him to heaven. I trail my hands down his abs and down to his happy trail. Reaching his belt, I hungrily unbutton his pants.

“Baaaby . . .” he moans, almost like he’s gasping for air. I take the gasps as if he can't wait to be inside me. Fuck, I can’t either.

I get his pants down and am about to pull his cock out and slide on a condom when he grabs onto my breasts with the force of Zeus. He holds tight and lets out an unearthly gasp, his eyes fluttering.

I stare down at him in shock as he takes one last breath and then seems to go unconscious.

“What the fuck?” I know I was about to give him the most glorious send-off he ever had, but did he really just pass out? “Hello?”

It takes some effort, but I’m able to disengage his death grip from my breasts. They ache, and I wonder if I’m going to have a few bruises on them tomorrow. “Hello?” I repeat, leaning in closer. “Jake?”

I shake him, and when he doesn’t respond, I give him a little slap on the face. He doesn’t move at all, and fear starts to clench in my belly.

Hands shaking, I place my hand on the side of his neck. I don’t feel anything, and I’m getting more worried. What the fuck?

My heart pounds in my chest as I stare down at him in disbelief.

The Man of Steel is dead.

Roxy

“What do you mean, he’s dead?” Hannah yells into the phone. In the background, I can hear the bass of the club music, although it’s nowhere near as fast or as powerful as what’s in my chest. My heart’s pounding a thousand beats a minute, and it feels like I have a jackhammer going off inside me.

“I-I-I don’t know, he just—”

In panic, I pump Jake’s chest furiously. When that doesn’t work, I bitch slap him across the face with as much force as I can muster. “Wake up, bitch!” I yell. He doesn’t stir, and I slap him again. Still no response, and I stare in disbelief at his still body. How the fuck is this even possible? Is my pussy kryptonite or something?

The first night out, I fucking kill a man. Just my luck!

“Roxy, stop it!” Hannah shouts over my panicked gibbering. “Where the hell are you?”

“I don’t know,” I moan, moving away from Jake and trying desperately to remember how I got here. “Somewhere in the back. We started to—and then he grabbed my boobs and . . . oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!”

“Stop babbling! You’re not making sense!” Hannah snaps. She gives me a moment, then continues. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, I relay everything back to her. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you out of the house!” Hannah snarls when I’m done. “The first guy you see, you go and fuck him to death!”

“Hannah!” I wail in protest, feeling tears sting my eyes. That one stung. I didn’t mean to kill this fine specimen! I was being sarcastic before!

A lump forms in my throat. She’s definitely not making this any better. “I don’t know why or how this happened, but please—”

“Never mind that,” Hannah says, hearing my pain. “Listen, I’m sure you’re overreacting. He’s probably passed out drunk. You said he started slurring, right?”

I glance over at Jake. He still has his color, but I’m afraid to go back over there. “Doesn’t look dead. But I didn’t feel a pulse.”

“Just go check, God damn it!” Hannah roars.

“All right, all right, geez. If I ever have a heart attack, you’ll be the last person I call.” Sucking in a deep breath, I go back over to the bed. I force myself to stare at him. Just when I’m about to give up, I see . . .

“Oh, God!” I cry out. “He still has a hard-on!”

“He has angel lust!” Hannah gasps before laughing. “Damn, girl, you weren’t messing around.”

My face pinches into a frown. This isn’t the time for bullshit. “What the hell is angel lust?”

“When dead guys have a hard-on,” Hannah says. “A lot better than calling it zombie cock, in my opinion.”

I almost gag. Just great, not only did I kill a guy, but I left him with a big, hard, raging boner. I can just see the news now—Horny office drone kills handsome eligible bachelor and leaves him with a big, hard dick. Film at eleven!

I take a deep breath and grab his wrist. I move my fingers around frantically, trying to find a pulse. Suddenly, I feel it!

“He has a pulse!” I nearly scream, sweat breaking out on my forehead as I’m overcome with joy. “He’s alive! Alive!” I don’t mean to, but I sound like a Frankenstein movie.

Now that I’m more coherent, I can see his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths, so faint that I can see why I missed it before.

“Jesus, Rox! Don’t do that ever again!” Hannah yells before laughing. “You got me all worked up over here! Oh, and you owe me a night out. I was about to get my own itch scratched. Don’t have time for that now!”

“How do you think I feel?” I start to feel worry all over again. “It was strange how he just passed out on me in the first place. One bottle of beer shouldn't have done something like that, even if he was drinking before. I mean, he went from rock solid to staggering in like three minutes.”

“Who is he, anyway?” Hannah wonders. “Grab his wallet.”

“His name is Jake, that’s all I know. I don’t know if I should do that . . .”

“I’m not asking you to steal his money and credit cards, Roxy! Just find out who the man is!”

I check his pants before finding his wallet in his jacket pocket. I pull it out and peek inside. It’s thick with a wide packet of hundreds, and my heart nearly stops as I pull out his ID. The photo that looks back at me is like I felt when I first saw him. That boyish smile, those sensual lips. Thank God I didn’t take him from this world.

“Like I said, his name is Jake. Jake Stone,” I say, transfixed by his photo. I thought a good looking DMV photo was impossible. I guess it just needs Jake Stone on it.

“Well, it sounds like Mr. Jake Stone needs some help.”

“No shit. What should I do?”

Hannah sighs. “It sounds like he needs to sleep it off. Just get out of there. I’ll find someone at the front and tell them there’s a drunk guy in the back room passed out.”

“But—” I say, looking down at Jake. “What if he needs medical help?”

“Then they’ll get it for him! But he’s just drunk, Roxy. Come on, you’re not supposed to even be back there.”

Hannah has a point. “Okay,” I say finally. “Meet you out front.”

Click.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I tell him. “But I have to go.”

Jake makes a little sound. I stop, going back over to the bed and pushing his shoulder, jostling him a little.

“Jake?”

He snorts a little but doesn’t answer, but at least I can see he’s breathing more. I don’t know what the hell happened, but I’m glad he’s all right.

I hear a bang somewhere outside and quickly jump to my feet. Someone’s coming. They’ll know what to do. Maybe he won’t even remember our brief steamy encounter.

But I’ll never forget it, I think.

“Catch you in another lifetime, handsome,” I say, blowing him a kiss as I scoop up my purse and things.

I rush out of the room and nearly collide into a small man in a sharp suit. In my heels, the top of his head just about hits me in the chin. He looks surprised, his eyes going wide.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing back here?” he demands in a thick Bronx accent, grabbing me by the arm.

“I was with a friend,” I hurriedly say, turning my face so he can't get a good look at me.

He tries to pull me around to face him. “You’re full of shit,” he snarls. “No one is allowed back here.”

“Well a guy name Jake let me in. He said he knows the owners,” I retort. “He had a key.”

“Bullshit! Jake knows not to let any sleazy broads back here.” Sleazy broads? This little bastard is pushing his luck.

A groan from inside the room pulls his attention away, and I seize the opportunity, pulling myself from his grasp as I shove him and take off down the hall as fast as I can in these heels. I guess all those performances onstage still help out. I can move in these damn things.

“Hey!” the short guy yells. “Get your ass back here!”

I grit my teeth and find my way back into the club and make a beeline outside, fearing every second that one of the club security is going to grab me. Those MIB-looking dudes are scary.

Hannah is waiting for me by the fountain, arms folded, a scowl on her face.

We walk to the car and get in, not saying a word until we’re inside. Suddenly, Hannah bursts out laughing. “This is just so damn crazy. You were saying that you were gonna unleash the Rox, but damn . . .”

“I dunno, Han.” I laugh. “It was weird! I almost shit a brick! I’m not going to want to go out for another ten months.”

“Was he at least cute?”

“Oh, gawd,” I say, relaxing as Hannah pulls out of the parking lot. A ripple of remembered heat and unquenched desire flushes my cheeks. “He was hot as fuck. And I bet you could crack walnuts with his ass cheeks.”

We talk as Hannah drives, and she fills me in on the guy she danced with. I’ll admit, I feel a little bad about ruining her night. “So, are you going to call the guy?” I ask, shifting around to try and make my ass more comfortable. “I mean, you sound like you liked him.”

Hannah thinks, then nods. “Yeah, I probably will. What about Jake? You get his number?”

“I didn’t exactly think about getting his number,” I say sarcastically. I reach for my purse and open it, looking for my phone. When I do, I’m shocked by the thick black leather object inside. My memory flashes back, and I remember taking it out of his pocket and laying it next to my things. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Hannah asks, pulling into our parking lot. When I don’t answer, she parks and shuts off the engine. “Rox, what’s going on?”

I pull out Jake’s wallet and show it to her. “I accidentally took his wallet in my rush to get out of there.”

Jake

“Jake!” I faintly hear a muffled voice urgently yell from what seems a million miles away. Something hits me in the face, and I mumble something. The voice speaks up again, this time closer. “Jake, wake up.”

I let out a groan, my head pounding like that time I decided to do keg stands in college and lost my balance, hitting my head on the way down. I feel someone shaking me violently, but it's a chore to open my eyes.

“Jake, what happened?” the voice says, and I can finally identify who it is. That Bronx accent is pretty much unmistakable.

Still, even if I recognize Nathan’s voice, it's a struggle to open my eyes. I finally force them open, but when I do, all I see is a blur.

“Fuck,” I groan. “You get the number on that truck?”

“Jake, you’re fucking smashed, man,” Nathan says, and I swallow thickly, my mouth feeling both swollen and somehow dry at the same time. “Damn, I haven’t seen you like this before.”

I feel like my chest has been cast in concrete and like my limbs are weighed down by stone. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to focus, but it takes several moments for me to see Nathan clearly. He’s standing over me, staring at me with disbelief, concern, and yeah, a little amusement.

“Where is she?” I mumble, my words sounding like a jumbled mess. I'm trying to get my bearings, remember what’s going on. Some things are a little hazy, but her . . . I can’t forget her. Her lush body in my hands, those sweet lips . . . fuck.

Nathan frowns. “Huh? I don't understand you.”

I realize I'm not going to get anywhere for at least several minutes with the brain fog that is filling my mind. “Water,” I rasp, trying to imitate drinking motions. “Get me some water.”

Nathan looks like he’s about to make a wiseass comment but instead goes to the corner of the room and grabs a water out of the small refrigerator, bringing it over to me. I'm barely able to take it from his hands, but he plucks it out of my weakened fingers and opens it for me. Taking it, I chug some, the water churning in my stomach, but at least I’ve got something to focus on besides the jackhammer between my ears.

“Damn, dude,” Nathan continues, “What the hell is going on? You disappear and now I find you back here passed out, looking fucked up as all hell. How much did you drink?”

“Not drunk,” I say slowly, focusing on every syllable to make sure I’m understood. I remember throwing back that one beer, my second drink for the night. The champagne was the other, and it was a half glass.

“Not drunk?” Nathan demands, his face twisted in confusion. “Jake, you know damn well we can’t be having drugs in . . .”

“Drugged,” I say, not knowing if I’m thinking clearly enough. That had to be it. The beer. It had to be. It just doesn’t make sense any other way.

Nathan looks shocked. “What?”

“I was drugged,” I manage in a froglike croak. “I don’t know how or why, but someone spiked my drink.”

“It was that fucking tramp I ran into on the way here!” Nathan half yells, jumping to his own conclusion. “I knew there was something fishy about that broad being back here!”

“Roxy?” I ask, remembering her flirty dimple-filled smile. I don’t consider myself naive, but I don’t think my angel is responsible.

“That’s her name?” Nathan snarls, turning away. “I’m gonna go out there, find her, and call the cops . . .”

I hold out my hand and tried to stand, but I collapse back onto the bed, my head pounding. “Wait!”

Nathan turns back, scowling.

I shake my head weakly. “Don’t call,” I rasp. “Seriously.”

“Why the fuck not? If we let this type of shit happen, we’re going to be finished.”

“You’re usually more levelheaded than this. Think about it. I’m the one fucked up and I’m thinking more clearly. If you call the cops, that’s all everyone’s going to be talking about. We don’t need the negative press. Let’s just look at the security tapes and figure out what to do.”

The rage flees his face and his shoulders relax. “Shit, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

I nod. “And there’s no need to call the ambulance. I just need a little time and some fluids. I can already feel the effects wearing off a little bit.”

Nathan runs his fingers through his hair. “What were you thinking, bringing her back here . . .” His voice trails off as if he suddenly seems to notice that I’m sitting on the bed. “Shit, did you at least hit it?”

I shake my head. “Was about to.”

“Man, what the fuck? All your talk about being on the straight and narrow, but you're bringing sluts to the back room on our grand opening night—”

“She’s not a slut,” I cut in.

“Really? Then what the fuck is she?” Nathan asks.

Nathan shakes his head when I can’t answer. “She probably robbed your ass blind.”

I pat my pockets and realize my wallet is missing. “Fuck me!”

Nathan is staring at me incredulously. “See? What did I tell you? Why else would she drug you if not to rob your ass!”

Anger tightens my stomach. Fuck, how could I be so stupid? “I’ll call and cancel all my cards. She won't be able to get shit off them. Listen, my head can’t take much more of this shit right now. Leave me be for a bit and go check the tapes.”

I’m glad when Nathan leaves without an argument, and I can’t help but see Roxy in my mind. That sweet, angelic smile and her irresistible laugh.

But no matter how hard I try to reason things, the fact of the matter is that my wallet is gone. Which leaves me with only one explanation.

My little angel is a thief.

* * *

Roll the footage,” Nathan orders Andre, our head security guy.

I’d sat in the bedroom for twenty minutes, trying to gather myself before Nathan came back and helped me through the back to the security room. I can stand on my own, but the world’s still spinning a little, and I know I probably sound drunk as hell. Still, I’ve got my wits about me, more or less.

“That’s her!” I half-slur, pointing as I get up. I grab the edge of the desk as a wave of dizziness washes over me. On the video, Roxy is approached by some guy, and I recognize him. He was there when I approached her. He orders her a beer, and she never touches it, but when she looks away, you can see as clear as day that he slips something in the bottle.

“Son of a bitch,” Nathan breathes. “That bastard slipped something in her drink!”

I grab the edge of the security desk in a white-knuckled grip, my lip curling as I stare at the image on the screen, searing the man’s face into my memory. If I ever see him again, he’s going to get a beating. “Find him.”

Andre clears his throat. “I’ll get on the radio to the floor guys, and I’ll keep checking footage here. Trust me, if that asshole shows up again, he’s gonna catch a beatdown.”

“Okay, maybe I was wrong about the girl,” Nathan admits as we leave. I’m angry and would love nothing more than to go track this guy down, but the drug’s effect is too strong for me. “But it still doesn’t explain the wallet.”

“I’m going to go with it was an accident.” It’s the only alternative to she stole it and the one I want to believe most. Even an angel makes mistakes.

“Either way, we got a huge problem on our hands if this motherfucker is going around doin’ this shit. We have to catch him. I just don't know if we should call the police now or after we catch him,” Nathan says while I recover. “This type of shit is bad for business.”

“No cops for now,” I half growl, pissed off. “I want to teach this guy a lesson first.”

Roxy

“You can’t be serious! You’re not going back there!” Hannah says, pacing the floor of our apartment. Moonlight is shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and even in this state, I have to admit that the view is the thing I like most about the place. Hannah is wearing Barney pajamas, of all things, and has put her hair into pigtails. I swear she looks like a big-eyed Angelica from the kids’ cartoon Rugrats.

Our grumpy looking cat, Mr. Felix, an orange and white Persian who adopted us when we were seniors in college, lazily watches her pace the room from his perch on the couch. I’m sure to him, his only concern about all of this is whether he’s going to have to get strict when it comes time for his humans to put out his food in the morning.

“Why not?” I demand. “I have his wallet. He’s gonna think I stole it.”

Hannah stops to scowl at me. “Honey, by now, he already thinks you stole it! Because, well, you did.”

“I did not!” I protest. “I just didn’t realize I’d stuffed it in my purse in my panic to leave.”

Her words sink in, and I feel a feeling of despair creep through me. “There must be something I can do. I can’t keep his wallet. The longer I have it, the guiltier I’ll look.”

Hannah nods. “There is. Just go by Monday and turn it in to the club. Or better yet, mail it to the guy. You have his address, assuming his driver’s license is up to date.”

“Wait,” I say. “Let me look him up.” I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Taking out his wallet, I pull out his license and see that it’s out of state, which makes me worry. But I have his full name, and I type it into Google on my phone.

The first headline makes my eyes go wide, and I jump so hard I nearly drop the phone. Corporate Executive And Stock Wizard Opens Club Jasmine. I click the link and see that most of it is a PR piece that was published just yesterday. My heart hammers in my chest as I read about how the two friends came together to open up Club Jasmine and how they wanted to make a new type of nightclub for the city. But the photo catches my attention more. It’s the same face, the same piercing eyes that captured me earlier tonight. He’s standing in the picture with the same guy who accosted me in the hallway.

“Oh, my God, he owns the club with his friend. That’s the same guy I saw in the hallway.”

“Let me see.” Hannah grabs the phone. “Shit, you weren’t lying. Mr. Jake Stone is sexy as hell. He’s got those looks and money. Life ain’t fair.”

“Yeah, not fair that he passed out before I could ride him to heaven and back,” I complain.

Hannah stares at the article for a little more, then hands my phone back to me. “That pretty much seals it. You’re not going back there. There’s no way they’d believe your story. You’ll just be some gold digger in their eyes.”

“Hey!” I protest, hurt. “I’m not a gold digging skank!” She’s right, though, and I feel horrible. I wish there were something I could do. But now I’m too afraid.

Not to mention my body is all sorts of mixed up with my hormones going in so many different directions that I can’t focus at all. I’m horny, scared, angry, and even a little bit hungry. “I can’t believe I was about to sleep with the owner of the club,” I say to myself. “Why did he pretend like he wasn’t some big shot?”

“Who knows? Don’t worry, chica,” Hannah says, coming over to wrap an arm around me in a sweet embrace. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Right then, my phone buzzes and I glance down. Tears come to my eyes as I feel a tug in my heart. “It’s Mindy,” I say. “Not sure why she’s calling this late.”

“My cue to go to bed then,” Hannah says, delivering a kiss to my forehead before getting up. “Answer it and tell her all about the night. Considering how crazy you both are, I bet she has a story to one-up you. Just save some of the Cherry Garcia for me. I know how you get when you start talking with your sister.”

Hannah goes to leave, but before she can totally leave, I call out. “Hannah?”

She turns around, her hand on the door jamb to her bedroom. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably actually end up killing guys to get your needs met,” Hannah says. “And you’d probably have the freezer stocked with those dick-shaped popsicles that have sweet cream filling.”

I scowl, my lip curling. “That’s disgusting.”

“Just joking!” Hannah says, trying to smirk before sticking out her tongue. When that doesn’t work, she sighs melodramatically. “Enjoy your talk with Mindy. Goodnight.”

Hannah disappears into her bedroom area, and for a split second I debate on answering the phone. But when I think about how long it’s been since I last talked to her, I press the button.

“Hi, Mindy!” I answer as I would any other time.

“Hey, Roxy! How's it going?” My sister's voice comes through the phone cheery and upbeat.

I don’t want to rain on her parade, and I don’t want to get her worried. “Great. How’s things for you and the fam?”

“Really? That’s good. I didn’t know if you’d still be up. I know you're wondering why I’m calling this late, but I finally got some downtime from handling Leah and thought I'd call you and leave you a voicemail.”

I smile, thinking about Leah. The spitting image of Mindy if you shrank her down and made her chubbier and cute, she’s the darling of everyone in the family. And with a new generation of women in the family, Grandma finally feels like she’s accomplished nearly everything that a woman could ask for. She’s cute as a button, and if she’s anything like her mother or her aunt, Mindy’s going to have her hands full.

“How's my favorite little niece doing?” I ask. “Still wrapping every man she meets around her little finger?”

“Of course. She’s starting to talk more, and I’m trying to take her out so she can make friends with other kids her age,” Mindy says. “It's crazy keeping up with them.”

“That's wonderful. I wish I could see her.” That's one of the things I regret about living far away from family. I have missed out on the important moments.

“I wish so too,” Mindy says wistfully. “You know, Oliver asks about you all the time. I think he thinks of you as our good luck charm, or maybe the sister he never had.”

I hold my tongue because she’s right. I feel like I somehow, in a weird, fucked up way, had a hand in getting them together. And some of my favorite memories of the past few years have been with Mindy and Oli. “How's work?” Mindy asks.

“Stressful,” I admit. “I work an insane number of hours, but I’m still learning and it’s getting easier. I’m getting a promotion, though.”

“You are? That's wonderful!” Mindy says earnestly. “I knew you could do it. Are you excited?”

“I am,” I say halfheartedly. “I start Monday.”

Mindy’s quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft, worried. “Is everything all right, Roxy?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just tired.”

“Don't lie to me. I can hear it in your voice,” Mindy says. “Spill it.”

For a moment, I debate on telling her the truth. It’s not that I think she’d judge me, but maybe it’s just a little too soon.

“Come on, Roxy,” Mindy presses. “I'm not going to give up until you tell me. If I have to, I’ll fly Oliver out there to start poking around, and you know how he is!”

I let out a sigh. “Fine. As long as you promise not to laugh. I’m sure I’ll think it’s funny later on, but it scared me shitless.”

“Deal. I’d pinky swear, but this is the phone.”

Smiling at the old joke a little, I tell her everything about the creep and Mr. Heartstopper.

“Holy shit, that's crazy!” Mindy says when I’m done. “I bet that creeper tried to spike your drink!”

“He . . . holy shit, you’re right!” I say, impressed that Mindy thought of it. I should have thought of it too, honestly. “Still, I feel like hell. I shouldn’t have even gone, but gawd, babe, it’s been so hard. I haven’t had a lot of time for myself, and I just wanted this one night to relax, release, and have fun.” A lump forms in my throat as the words leave my lips. “I miss being the Roxy who sang her ass off for you.”

Sympathy flows in Mindy’s voice. “Oh, baby, don't be so hard on yourself. I know how you feel. I went through the same thing working at Beangal’s. God, I was so burned out, and that was a place that was literally bought just for me to run. So I totally understand. There was nothing wrong with your going out to relax.”

The tears threaten to flow from my eyes. “Mindy . . .”

“You know what? I think it's time for a visit,” Mindy adds. “You got a bestie, I know that, but nobody can get you back to normal like me.”

“I don't know . . .” I begin, but Mindy laughs.

“I mean for us to come visit you. We might have some sister time to remind you who the real baddest bitch in the family is, but this would be for the whole family. I want to see how you're living, you can have some baby time, and hell, I’ll even let your roomie drool all over Oliver for a few.”

It would be nice to see my family again. I need to see my new niece and nephew. “When would that be?”

“Not sure with the business and all,” Mindy says with a smirk in her voice. “And I think I’ll let it be a surprise anyway.”

“After tonight, I don’t think I can deal with too many surprises,” I admit, and Mindy chuckles. “I’m serious, Min.”

“I know, babe, I know. I was just yanking your leg. Listen, let me check the schedule and I’ll get back with you. We’ll probably be there within a month. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” I admit. “I can hang on until then.”

There’s a silence, and Mindy speaks again. “What about singing, Roxy? I mean, you always felt better when you had a mic in your hand and were belting out something.”

“I guess . . . it’s hard, Min. I mean, what’s the point? I wasted a lot of my time on that as it is.”

“I didn’t say make it a career,” Mindy says gently. “I said sing. Sing for you, sing for your heart. Hell, just go to some karaoke bar and sing for the crowd there.”

“Maybe,” I admit, thinking about it. She has a point. Maybe I just need to do it for fun. “We’ll see.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Mindy says, sighing. “You be safe, okay? And I’m calling you Monday. You can tell me about your new job. I love you, Roxy.”

“Love you too, Mindy. Bye.”

After Mindy hangs up, I let out a deep sigh. It was nice talking to my sister, but damn, I’ve got a lot on my plate. Having a new boss coming in is stressing me a little. I was finally getting used to things. But now, I’m going to have this Jake Stone nightmare in the back of my mind.

I pick up Jake’s driver’s license from the table and stare at it before I set it down on the table and sigh, getting up. “He’s handsome, isn't he, Mr. Felix?” I ask.

Mr. Felix does nothing, practically glaring at me. He probably wants the darkness, and I’m keeping him from his beauty sleep.

I chuckle, walking over to the light switch to get ready for bed. Tonight may have been a nightmare, but something tells me my dreams are gonna be anything but. Just as I flick the switch, I see his ID on the table again and blow it a little kiss. “Goodnight. See you in my dreams.”

Jake

Walking down the hallway from the elevator to the front door of my new penthouse, I lean against the wall, blinking and taking deep breaths. Whatever was in that beer, not only did it come on hard, but it’s hanging around like a monkey on my back. Nathan wanted to follow me up and help me, but I’m too damn prideful for that.

I finally get inside and collapse into my living room chair, groaning and sitting back. At least now that I’m sitting, I can think a little easier. Besides being drugged and robbed blind, the grand opening of Club Jasmine was an overwhelming success. Everyone had a blast. I don’t know any exact numbers, but we had to bring in well over six figures. Of course, that’s not profit, but it was a good opening night.

“You look like shit,” says a familiar voice, and with effort, I turn my four hundred-pound head with the nails stuck in it to see my sister, Sophie, standing against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed, eyeing me critically. The penthouse is a large open room, with floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire length of the main room, giving a breathtaking view of the skyline. Honestly, I’m still getting used to it and slowly breaking in the furniture, but I like it.

“Why are you still up?” I ask, deflecting. I can't argue with her. I do look like shit. My shirt is rumpled and ripped from where Roxy tore it off, and my eyes are probably bloodshot red. “You were supposed to be in bed hours ago.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asks, her luminous brown eyes gazing at me incredulously. “It's the weekend. If anything, I should have been out at Club Jasmine jamming with my friends.”

“No, you shouldn't. We talked about this already. You and your friends are too young,” I half groan, not wanting to go into this right now.

“So? I'm sure you got into clubs when you were sixteen.”

“But you're not me and that was a mistake. I'm going to make sure you don't make the same ones,” I remind her for what has to be the thousandth time. I’ll give this to my sister—she’s about as stubborn as I was at her age.

Sophie rolls her eyes at me. “Whatever. You could’ve at least brought me back one of the signature drinks as a gift. That Little Mermaid drink on the menu looks so delicious.”

I hide a grin. The Little Mermaid, a sea blue drink with tropical notes, also contains a huge shot of triple sec and rum and could probably put Sophie on her ass with one glass. I came up with the name as pun for Nathan, who likes it. I think about Sophie’s request for a second, then shake my head slowly. “No can do. I don't want you to turn into a full-blown alcoholic because the drinks are just that good. If you’re good, I might let you have a sip for your next birthday. That means grades as well as behavior, by the way.”

Sophie sticks her tongue out at me. “Thanks, Dad,” she says sarcastically.

Instead of pushing the point, surprisingly, Sophie changes the subject. “I saw you guys on the news,” she says.

“Did you?” I heave myself out of the chair and walk over to her, shrugging off my suit jacket and setting it down on the kitchen barstool.

She nods. “The club looked totally ah-mazing. There were A-listers everywhere, including some delicious man candy. Nathan looked hella fine.” A dreamy expression comes over her face, and I feel like I have to nip this in the bud. I like Nathan—he’s my boy—but there’s no fucking way in hell I’m letting him near Sophie.

“Nathan is too old for you,” I remind her, “and he has a new girlfriend every other week. He found a new one tonight.”

Sophie makes a face. She’s not listening again. “Yeah. Because he's hot.”

“I’ll let others be the judge of that, but if you ask me, it's because he has money. If you have a million bucks in the bank, you can buy yourself a ten. Nathan knows that better than anyone. Some people think money can buy you almost anything.”

Except happiness, I think inwardly.

“Besides, the dude is like the same size as you. Do you want a man that you have to tuck into bed every night?”

Sophie flushes. “Um, no. Of course not.”

“Okay then. If you’re gonna go for a guy, make sure he’s at least a foot taller than you.” I really don’t care or think it matters, the height of a man, but I just want her to stop with this Nathan shit.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind having a man buy me things. You’re right about that,” says Sophie, forgetting about Nathan. “I want a boyfriend with money. All the guys at my school will never have anything.”

“That's a horrible quality to look for in a guy,” I tell her, trying not to get angry. I remind myself that she’s a teenager, and that’s basically another word for ignorantly immature sometimes. “Money isn't everything.”

“You just said that money can buy you almost anything and now you're telling me it isn’t everything. Which one is it?”

“I said some people think that. I didn’t say it was right. Sophie, it's what's in a guy’s heart that counts,” I tell her. “You can find a man who will buy you the world. But it doesn't mean a damn thing if he doesn’t really care about you.”

Sophie’s expression softens. “That sounds sweet and all. But if a dude bought me a hot red Ferrari, I think I'd be pretty damn happy.”

I chuckle, heading into the kitchen. I can’t really argue with that, especially with a sixteen year old. I fill a glass from the tap and drain it. It has to help in flushing this drug out of my system. “You really don’t need to be thinking about boys right now, though,” I say.

This silences Sophie, and I have to wonder if that means she’s already got a boyfriend. I don’t want to smother her, so I’m just going to forget about it for now. I’m her big brother, and while I take raising her very seriously, I’m not Dad.

I walk over to the couch and almost stumble, having to grab ahold of it to prevent myself from falling flat on my face.

Sophie is at my side in an instant. “Are you all right?” Concern laces her words. It’s the one thing I have to give Sophie. I might annoy her and piss her off with my rules, but she doesn't want to see me hurt. She even tries to pamper me some. I’ve come home from a late night at work to find her curled up on the couch, a homemade dinner sitting on the stove, and a note for me propped on top.

“I’m fine,” I say gently, brushing her aside. “Just tired.”

Sophie walks over in front of me and crosses her arms, staring at me suspiciously. “Something happened tonight, didn't it? I’ve seen you be out later and come home looking a lot better than this. You look like something the cat dragged in.”

I nod. “The grand opening was a major success. Nathan and I are both pleased.”

Sophie scowls. “No, don’t even try it.” She gestures at me. “Look at you. Your shirt looks like you got into a fight with Wolverine.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen you come home like this before.”

I think about denying more, then change my mind. “Something was in one of the drinks I had. It messed me up pretty good. Nathan’s double-checking the video with the security guys to see if it was intentional,” I tell her. It’s enough of the truth to satisfy her, but she doesn’t need to know all the details.

“Jesus, Jake, are you okay?” Sophie asks, sitting down next to me. “Should you go get checked out at the hospital?”

“No, I’m fine,” I reassure her. “Just a little sluggish. I’ll be as good as new in the morning, trust me.”

“Still . . .” Sophie says, going quiet. She curls up against me, putting her head on my chest, and I adjust, sliding an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. Maybe it’s the club, maybe it’s the drug in my drink, but I don’t mind it right now. I can use a little bit of reassurance that I’m doing the right thing by her.

“I know,” I whisper quietly. “I miss them too.”

“I miss them so much,” Sophie says, her voice thick, and if I could turn my head again, I know she’d be crying softly. Instead, I hug her and kiss the top of her head.

“Sophie, I know I’ll never replace Dad, but bear with me. I’m kinda learning this parenting shit on the fly, you know? But that’s why I was so harsh earlier. I don’t care about money, and I don’t want you to either. You want that red Ferrari? You graduate college and I’ll get you one. I’d rather you actually fall in love with the man, not with his bank account. You can marry the garbage man for all I care.”

Sophie hugs me tighter. “There’s nobody better than my big brother.”

“Yeah, well, I love you too,” I reassure her.

We sit there like that for a few moments before my phone buzzes and I fish it out of my pocket. “It’s Nathan.”

Sophie grumbles but gets up. “I’ll let you guys talk then,” she says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I give her a smile and a nod. “Yo, Nathan,” I answer the phone. “You realize what time it is?”

“Hey, man, this night was crazy!” Nathan says, still buzzing off adrenalin. “I can't believe what happened. We’ll keep an eye out for both, but that dude is done if he comes back.”

“Thanks,” I reassure him. “Is that all?”

“Nah, man. Other than your deal, the club opening was as good as we could’ve imagined. We’re going to make millions by next year, just wait and see. I already have three more bands lined up.”

I stare at my phone, still wondering why the hell Nathan’s calling. “Nathan, couldn’t this wait until morning?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just excited.” Nathan says, slightly chagrined. “Yo, man, about the girl . . . we kinda lost her. She walked out with a friend, but we’re gonna keep working on it.”

I nod to myself. Roxy . . . if only I could talk to her again to clear this up. “Don’t worry about her. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. The guy is more of a concern. If he did that at our club, you can guarantee he’s doing it elsewhere too.”

“Okay, man, just . . . get some sleep. I just want you to know, this club . . . it’s our rocket to the moon, baby. Rest easy.”

“You too. Goodnight,” I say, hanging up on him and lying back. I’m pretty sure I’m asleep before I even hit the couch cushion.

Roxy

I'm a ball of nerves when I arrive at work Monday. It took me until nearly midnight last night to relax. Every time I heard a car outside on the street, I swore it was the cops ready to drag me off to jail. Eventually, Hannah got me to relax, but I still had to give myself some serious self-love to be able to get to sleep.

I’ve done pretty good with it so far since I got to work. I was even able to eat some breakfast after Hannah gave me a pep talk. I just need to focus on today. I don’t want to look like an idiot the first day I meet my new boss.

But still, as I check on the second floor for interoffice mail, I can’t stop thinking about him. How his lips felt against me. His hard body pressed into mine. The feeling of grinding on him, even if he was still inside his pants. It was . . . heartstopping.

I brush my desires and troublesome thoughts away as I take a deep breath and step off the elevator with a stack of papers in my hand, adjusting my black skirt with my right hand before making my way across the floor to my work area. Our office is at the top of a high-rise building downtown and has been around for decades. The floor plan isn’t my favorite, an open floor with cubicles that make me feel like either I’m constantly running a maze or that the agents are going to show up to arrest me for talking to Morpheus.

The board room is down the hall, past the coffee room and bathrooms, while along three of the walls are several glass offices for the higher-ups. Along the far back wall are three mostly unused meeting rooms, what a lot of us ‘cubey cats’ call the firing room, since the executives never fire someone in their own offices and they don’t like giving out pink slips in public.

“Here are the papers Byron wanted,” I say, bending over to place the stack on my co-worker, Matt Brown’s, desk. I don’t want to. I know he’s getting a decent view down my blouse, but I have to or else I’m going to lose the rest of my stuff all over the place.

Matt glances up from his laptop, raising his eyebrows, his widow’s peak going back on his head, making him look like the old young version of Eddie Munster. He’s tall and skinny, with pale reddish hair and brown eyes.

I expect him to at least give me a thank you. You know, tell me how grateful he is about having me run down to the mail room to get his shit for him. Instead, he sighs. “Damn, Rox, took you long enough.” He looks at me critically, up and down. “You get some decent makeup yet?”

He’s subtly insinuating that I’m starting to sag and look older, which makes me want to laugh. I might have a stress wrinkle or two, but it’s nowhere near what his baggy hound dog eyes have hanging under them. I grit my teeth but I don’t snap back. He’s always picking at me, trying to get under my skin, so I’m not taking the bait. Besides, I know I look good. I’m a fabulous bitch. Or I’d better be, given how long I spent in the mirror this morning. Matt’s probably jealous he can't pull off the skirt, blouse, and heels I’m wearing.

I laugh, not letting him know he gets on my last nerve. He’s really the only one here whom I dislike. “Let’s not, Matthew. I’m trying to be nice today.” I’m not gonna tell you about how I want to take that tie and choke you with it, I think inwardly. Maybe hang you from the window as a warning to all those who try to fuck with me—run away as fast as you can.

“Let’s not what?” he asks, hiding his smirk. “I was just asking you a question. How was your weekend?”

He knows damn well what he meant, but I’m not going to entertain him. “It was good. Stopped a few hearts, broke a few necks, and stomped a few balls. Ya know, the usual.”

He leans back in his chair, chuckling. “You know what, Roxy? I like you. Maybe we should hang out sometime. Have a few drinks after work?”

No way in hell. I’d rather take the Devil out for drinks. He’d only want me around to get drunk and then have the freedom to make me the punchline of his jokes.

“Sorry, got plans,” I say politely. I can't resist getting a little twist in, though, and add cheerfully, “Although I have a friend named Brad who you’d absolutely fall in love with.”

Matt arches an eyebrow. “Brad?”

I nod. “Mmmhmm. He’s tall, blond, blue-eyed, and he can drop his ass to the floor like you’ve never seen, then work it back up nice and slowly until you’re throbbing in your pants.”

Matt laughs nervously. “Hey, what are you trying to say?”

Before I can reply, Byron Smith, one of the top level executives, walks over. His tie is loose around his neck, and his combed-over greying hair gives him sort of a cloudy appearance. He’s tall, and despite his skinny neck, he’s got a big potbelly that’s almost cartoonish over his chicken legs. I have no idea why he hangs around Matt. There’s a huge gap in age, and Byron’s duties have nothing to do with me or Matt. But when the two get together, it’s like two grade schoolers. I swear they’ve swapped fart jokes sometime over the past year.

“Hey, Matt,” Byron says, grinning foolishly. “Have you heard about the new computer password system?”

“No, what about it?” Matt asks, and I roll my eyes. I’ve heard this one before.

“Well, we have to put in new passwords,” Byron says. “Tom down the hall went in and decided that his new password would be Tomspenis. He puts it in, and you won’t believe what the computer told him.”

“What?” Matt asks, grinning.

“It said Try again. Tomspenis is not long enough.”

I try not to roll my eyes or to turn it around on them. Instead, I just gather up my stuff. “That’s my cue to get back to work,” I say. “Talk to you later.”

I leave the two to continue their weird bromance. Their relationship just confounds me.

I walk through the maze and around the corner to my cubicle, glad to have my own little space that I’ve personalized a little. My heels are muted against the tough industrial-grade carpet, and more than once, I’ve considered ditching them for flats, except that the company does have visitors who expect them. I open my computer and login to my desktop, getting ready for the day. Franklin Consolidated was one of the first companies to build this city, and despite being bought in a corporate takeover, it still has prestige. We’re in some of the top floors of our high-rise, and the view out the windows in the break room are breathtaking. Overall, despite it being corporate drudgery, I could be doing a lot worse. Besides dealing with Matt’s bullshit, this place isn’t that bad.

I’m not gonna let that dickhead get me down. I figure I’ll get another promotion soon and move out of this cube-farm and into the outer ring offices, and then I won’t have to deal with him. Really, I’m just nervous about this new Regional President. It’s been hush-hush about who he is, the corporation that bought Franklin Consolidated keeping things quiet. It’s like they want it to be some sort of national security top secret or something. That, combined with knowing I still have Jake’s wallet, is making me a big ball of butterflies.

There’s a commotion going around the room, and as my email loads, I see why. The new boss is going to be in soon and everybody is excited. Or maybe nervous is probably the better word.

“Hey, Roxy, you excited?” Hannah asks. She’s dressed to kill today, with a knee-length pencil skirt that shows off her toned legs and a blouse that is just a little tighter than normal. I guess she’s playing it up some, but she’s certainly got the right to.

“I think I’m holding up well,” I say, flashing an anxious smile. “Just hoping he’s not a huge pain in the ass,” I whisper.

Hannah shakes her head. “I’d be nervous too if I were tabbed to be his assistant. Well, that and worried that the cops could kick down the door any minute. Say, how do you think you’d look in an orange jumpsuit? I hear orange is the new black.”

I hold my scowl for all of two seconds before I can’t help but laugh. “I can’t be pissed with you,” I say, leaning back. Her jokes actually make me feel less anxious. I’d do the same if she were in my position. “By the way, if I’m going to jail, you’re going to jail too as an accomplice. Preferably to be cellies with some six-foot-tall girl named Missy who’s hungry for blondes.”

Hannah laughs. “Come on, that’s why we’re friends. We’re each other’s spirit animal. And I know if I get Missy as my cellie, you and I can alternate days on being her bitch.”

“We are, I agree. Except you’re more of a beast than an animal, and I’m not muff diving for you no matter who it is.”

Hannah laughs. “Glad to see you back to normal.”

“I have Jake’s wallet,” I say after a moment, sobering again. “It’s here in my purse.”

“I’ll go with you after work and we can turn it in at the club,” Hannah says. “I’ll be your backup just in case.”

“Thank you.”

Right then, we hear talking, so Hannah and I stand up to see Tom Powers, the CEO of Franklin Consolidated, at the head of the room. He’s a tall, distinguished man with white hair, dressed as always in his dark double-breasted suit. He’s totally old school, but in a grandfatherly sort of way. I heard that he’s taking retirement with the corporate takeover, and if so, I’m going to miss him around.

“Hello, everyone, if I can have your attention, please?” he says. “Come on up if you’d like, or if you can see just fine, your cubicles are okay. Anyway, I’d like to take a few minutes to thank you all. I know that the rumor mill has been running overtime for the past few months, and . . .”

I tune Tom out a little, thinking about the day. After this, I need to finish checking my emails, then there’s the report from the agribusiness division that I’ll need to get together for my new boss . . . I wonder if he’s nice? I wonder if he’s a he, or maybe a she?

I know who I’d like to be working under. The dirty part of my mind fills with a picture of Jake in his suit. He was so powerful, so decisive, but at the same time a gentleman. The way he commanded everything and everyone without being a braggart or a loudmouth oozed confidence and masculinity. And yeah, the way he kissed me . . .

“Shit,” I mutter to myself as I shake my head. I’ve missed most of what Tom’s said already. Focus, Roxy, focus!

“For over seventy years, Franklin Consolidated has stood as a pillar of this community, and while our corporate headquarters is obviously changing, I can assure you that we will continue to serve this city and its people . . .”

“Oh, my God,” Hannah whispers next to me. She jostles my elbow, and I glance at her just as Tom wraps up.

“My Franklin family, it’s with great regret to confirm that yes, after this month, I will be retiring. However, I am confident in the hands that I’m leaving Franklin in. Without further ado, I’d like to introduce the new Regional President . . . Jake Stone.”

“Is that . . .?” Hannah whispers as Jake steps up next to Tom. I turn white as a sheet and drop down quickly before he can see me, Hannah squatting down next to me. “Roxy?”

“I’m dead . . . I’m fucking dead,” I whisper, looking at Hannah, terrified. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I almost slept with and killed my new boss!”

Jake

I stand before the window in my new office, looking out with my hands clasped behind my back. It’s just after lunch, and the whole city lies before me, sparkling in the sunlight. This is a far better view than what I had at my old office. I can see the entire city and even the mountains in the distance.

I feel powerful. Like the world is at my fingertips, and while I haven’t climbed the mountain yet, I’m getting there.

Even my office is better, a large, classical executive room with a polished oak desk and a large leather tufted chair. The shelves are lined with bookcases, and I’ve found it’s more than just the standard assortment of old law books or regulatory books, but there are all sorts of things. I’ve found leather-bound classics of fiction, biographies of great leaders, and more. This could rival a lot of small school libraries.

Franklin Consolidated really wanted my talents. I found out that they requested me specifically, so they rolled out the red carpet for me. My arrival has been well-received so far, but I’ve already noticed one problem.

I saw who was standing in the crowd. It was just a moment. I barely caught sight of that angelic face. I swear, I blinked and it was gone, and later on, I couldn’t find her when I walked the cubicle maze. But I know what I saw. She might be in my dreams, but I’m not imagining things.

I turn slightly when I hear the door open behind me, bringing me back to the tasks I have at hand. “Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Stone?” says Elena May, my new interim secretary, an elderly woman dressed in a crisp pantsuit. She used to work for Tom, and I gratefully accepted her services from him. “You told me to check in right after lunch.”

“Yes, Elena,” I say. “I need the report from the property management division, and the Jefferson agreement. Also, if you could get me a hot cup of coffee and something to snack on. I skipped lunch. I need something to get through the afternoon.”

Elena bows her head respectively. “Right away, sir.”

She turns away, ready to leave, and I know it’s now or never. I tense and call out, “And Elena?”

“Yes?”

“Please send in Miss Price.”

She pauses for a moment, a question in her eyes. But she doesn’t question me. “Right away, sir.”

She disappears, and I turn back to the window. I wasn’t going to call her in. I can’t even be sure I have the right person. It could be another Roxy. But I can’t resist and I have to know.

It’s a miracle from the highest heaven or a curse from the depths of hell if it is her. I guess it’s lucky for her that it’s me and not Nathan. He would have started kicking ass at nine in the morning.

Five minutes after Elena leaves, there’s a quiet knock at my door, and it opens behind me.

I don’t turn around immediately, drawing out the moment as I hear muted footsteps on the thick carpet of my office. Instead, I stand, staring out the window, feeling the sun warm my face.

“You called for me?” Roxy’s soft voice asks, and I momentarily close my eyes. There is a hint of nervousness and anxiety in it, but her sweet, soft voice is still like music to my ears. I know I should be mad. I should be raging and demanding answers, but in those four words . . . I swear I’m hearing an angel again.

“It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” I ask. “The sun is out. The view from this office beats the one at my old one.”

“It is,” she says, and I can hear the fear, the quaver in her voice, but also a note of something else, so soft that I don’t even think she knows it.

I turn to see her and the breath catches in my throat. In a tight skirt and blouse, her hands clasped respectfully in front of her, she reaches out and grabs my thoughts, a jolt going through me as I take in the vision in front of me. My God, she’s fucking beautiful. She’s still got that sweet angelic face, that gorgeous curvy body. Maybe I should’ve learned my lesson, but the things I want to do to her . . .

She gazes at me with anxiousness in her eyes. I know what she’s thinking, but she needn't worry. One look at her, and I know. Whatever happened Saturday night, she isn’t guilty of much more than maybe being overly horny.

I grin, hiding my desire behind a boyish mask. “I bet this is the last place you expected me to show up after you left me for dead.” My tone isn't harsh but playful. I’m trying to break the ice, but it seems to have the opposite effect.

Roxy frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t leave you for dead—”

“I checked the footage. I saw that sick bastard putting a roofie in your drink,” I interrupt. “I know you had nothing to do with it.”

Surprise shoots across her face. “You did?”

I nod. “We’ve set the bouncers and other staff to be on the lookout. But it still doesn't explain why you left like you did. And why you took my wallet and never came back with it.”

Roxy looks worried at first, then she cocks her head, smirking at me. “Well first of all, I thought I sent you straight to heaven,” Roxy says with spunk showing up in her voice. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve met a few guys who couldn’t hang with me, but never one who finished before we even got started. I didn’t peg you as one of those.”

I chuckle. “Is that right?”

“Oh, yeah. Had Mr. Creepy Bastard not gotten in the way, I would’ve showed you what paradise truly looks like.”

I have to laugh. It feels good to talk to her. I can’t believe my luck that I ended up where she works. “But seriously,” I say. “What happened?”

Roxy’s expression turns serious, and she walks over to the chair in front of my desk, sitting down when I give her a nod. “To be honest, when you started acting all Weekend at Bernie’s, I freaked out. I actually thought you keeled over for a second there.”

I’m caught up quickly as Roxy starts with her story, telling me everything that happened in painstaking detail. “So when I heard your friend coming, who has a foul mouth, by the way, I panicked and ran out. It was only after we got back home that I realized I still had your wallet.”

I stand there, silently taking in her story. It’s not really that hard to believe. Especially when it’s basically the scenario that I told myself happened over and over. I’m relieved to find out I was right. Because for some reason, I hate to think that the angelic vision in front of me is a thief. “So why didn’t you come back?”

She bites her lower lip. “It was all so crazy. I thought no one would believe me. I still have your wallet with me, actually. It’s at my desk in my purse. I can go get it—”

I shake my head. We’ve already wasted enough of my new work time. And I know it already looks weird that I’ve brought her into my office. I need to start getting work done. “You can give it to me later, after work,” I say. “Did you touch anything in there?”

She shakes her head. “Everything’s there. I’ll drop it off here—”

“No,” I interrupt her. “Bring it by the club.”

She pauses, confusion coming over her face. “Club Jasmine? Why would I do that when I can give it to you here?”

I nod. “I’ve got two reasons I’d rather you bring it to the club. First, because Nathan owes you an apology, and that needs to be delivered face to face. Second, I’d like to start back where we left off.”

I love how it knocks her a little off balance. Seeing the flush that comes to her cheeks, I’m reminded of how she looked in the club. Her lips part as she nervously licks them. “But It’s a work night and—”

“It’s fine. I’ll make sure you're back home by ten.” I give her a little wink.

I can tell she wants to. She’s warring with herself. She probably can’t believe I still want to be with her. “I don’t know, Jake. Maybe it’s better if we stay apart.”

“Oh, come on. We work in the same office, and you’re going to be reporting to me frequently,” I point out. “Consider this a business meeting where we can get to know a little more about each other.”

I don’t know why I’m pushing this issue. The dynamics have changed considerably. I’m her boss now, and maintaining a respectful relationship will be a challenge. But I’ve always been one to take a challenge and conquer it. Looking at Roxy, I want to conquer her, but probably not in the way that I should be thinking.

Roxy gives me an evaluating look, then nods. “Fine. What time?”

“Meet me there at eight. Bring your friend if you want.”

Roxy nods, then gets up. “Okay. Uhm, Jake . . . this is weird.”

I nod, grinning. “I know. But I’ll see you at eight.”

Roxy goes to the door and opens it. “Oh, and Miss Price?” I call out, slipping into more formal talk now that Elena might overhear.

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t forget the wallet.”

Roxy smirks and walks out of the office.

Roxy

“So, how do I look?” I ask, turning away from my bedroom mirror to face Hannah. Instead of the bright red, tonight, I’m opting for something darker. I don’t want to admit that I’m dressing up for Jake again, but as soon as I got home from work, I couldn’t imagine going back to Club Jasmine wearing what I wore for work.

So I found this, and I’ll admit it feels even more like coming back to who I am. Dark makeup and a dark dress help slim my frame, while I’ve got on four-inch open-toe heels that make my legs and ass look good. “I can’t believe I’m going back there,” I admit to Hannah, who’s sitting on my bed and giving me an critiquing look. “I mean, after what happened, I figured Club Jasmine would be one step from the seventh circle of hell in terms of places I didn’t want to visit.”

“So why are you doing it again?” Hannah asks, and I turn, adjusting the gold chain belt that I have around my waist.

“I feel guilty for leaving him there,” I lie. Well, I do, sort of, but I’m also obviously attracted to him. “So how do I look?”

“Like a five-hundred-per-hour hooker,” Hannah jokes. “Maybe a thousand if you do something about that damn hair.”

I scowl. “Not funny.”

Ignoring Hannah, I turn to address the only furry critic in the room. “You think I look good, don’t you, Mr. Felix?”

Felix, perched on the chair next to my makeup table, stares as if he gives zero fucks with his grumpy face. “Rowr.”

I stick my tongue out at him. “Fine, forget you. I’ll remember that come feeding time.”

Mr. Felix still doesn’t give a fuck, giving a yawn and resuming his mean face.

“Really, you look beautiful,” Hannah says, dropping her humor. But she pauses, a serious expression coming over face. “Still, though, I wonder . . .”

I turn to appraise her. “Wonder what?”

She swings her leg over the side of my bed and gets up, shaking her head slowly. “Do you think you should be seeing him outside of work?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“It was all fun and games before, and if it were anyone else, I still would tell you to go for it. But Jake is your boss now. And considering how you tried to screw his brains out on your first meeting, I’d say y’all aren’t starting on the right foot professionally.” She takes a deep breath. “I just don’t think this is a good look.”

I place my hands on my hips, trying to think of every damn excuse I can to justify going. “Just because he’s now my boss doesn’t mean I can’t go meet with him. Which he guilt tripped me into doing, I might add. Plus, I still have to give him his wallet.”

“Yeah, I know that but—” Hannah starts, but I hold up a hand.

“And who’s saying I’m going to sleep with him?”

At least not tonight.

Hannah opens her mouth to speak and then sees the look on my face. I’ve seen it before. It’s one I’ve inherited from my mother and my sister, the one that says Proceed with caution. Your ass is on thin ice. She takes another deep breath and lowers her voice. “Look, all I’m trying to say is that it’s different when you work with someone. Especially someone who’s your boss. If this is going to be friendly cordial, keep it friendly cordial. I just don’t think you should let it go beyond that, even if that’s how this all started. You don’t want people saying shit around the office.”

I want to deny Hannah’s words, but I have to admit that the same thoughts occurred to me as soon as Jake asked. But I’ve tried to ignore them. I just want an ending to our first night, dammit! I’m hungry for it. I want to know what lies behind those gorgeous eyes and that sun-bright smile. And yeah, part of me feels guilty and wants to make it up to him for leaving him like that in the club. That was a dick move on my part.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I finally say. “You’re right. It won’t be good if this turns into something else. So I’ll keep it all business. Strictly professional.” I almost sound like I’ve convinced myself. “I’ll go there, give him his wallet back, let him know I’m truly sorry for everything, and leave it at that.”

Hannah lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Don’t be mad at me. I just want what’s best for you.”

“I know,” I say. “Come here.” I hold my arms out to her and we embrace. “You’re not Mindy, but you make a decent placeholder.”

Hannah laughs. “Oh, shut up.”

Mr. Felix just rawrs.

* * *

On the way over to the club, Hannah and I talk very little. My mind is filled with what I’m going to say to Jake. The first night I met him, my mind was overrun with hormones and I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying. All I could see were those eyes that could command me to do anything. But now . . .

We pull up to the club. Surprisingly, there’s a lot of cars for a Monday night. This is a nightclub, not a sports bar showing Monday Night Football.

“Remember,” Hannah says as I get out, “keep it business.”

“Right. All business,” I say as we hug briefly. “I’ll be back by ten. Jake said he’ll give me a ride home, but I’ll be home by eleven at the latest, okay?”

“Okay,” Hannah says, giving me a look in the eyes. “Ten would be better.”

“Okay, Mom,” I half tease, patting her on the cheek. “You know he said you could come too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he would like that,” Hannah teases, giving me a wiseass grin.

The line isn’t out the door like it was Saturday night, but still, the place is fairly busy as I go inside. The music is good, more low-key than it was over the weekend. Thankfully, Jake is expecting me. I doubt I’d get in right now otherwise. “Hi,” I tell the doorman. “Mr. Stone is expecting me. Roxy Price?”

The doorman, still one of the MIB crew, checks his tablet before nodding. “Just a moment, Miss Price.”

He turns and talks quietly into his earpiece before nodding. “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all,” the doorman says as another of the MIB come over. “John, here, will take you to see Mr. Stone.”

“Right this way,” John, who looks like he should be in the Secret Service instead of working nightclub security, says with a slight bow of his head. As we make our way through the club, I see that my first impression was wrong. This place is nearly packed.

I think the difference is the clientele. Over the weekend, most of the clubbers were younger, twenty- and thirty-somethings. This group is at least a decade older, and the music reflects it. I’m hearing some stuff that hasn’t been in heavy rotation since the turn of the millennium. Then again, Will Smith is pretty smooth on Switch.

As John walks with me past the bar, I feel a moment of rising anxiety as I look around for the creepy bastard who tried to drug me, but I don’t see him. John notices and gives me a reassuring smile. “All clear tonight, Miss Price. Come, Mr. Stone is waiting for you upstairs.”

I look up and see Jake leaning on the railing of the VIP section, giving me a little wave. I wave back, and John leads me up, giving me the same little nod before he peels off to watch the steps to the VIP level. I’m surprised when I see that Jake’s alone up here. We have the whole level to ourselves.

“You’re looking dapper,” I comment as he comes over. He’s changed from the suit he wore to work into a slightly tighter fitting, brighter gray suit that just barely gleams in the club lights. “How many suits do you own, anyway?”

“Enough,” he says easily, and as he steps closer, I’m just staggered again by his magnetism. He has this confident ease about him that isn’t cocky. It’s more like he’s saying Yes, I have the looks, but I’m more than that. “Come on, I have a booth for us.”

He leads me over to a nice booth, all done in black velvet with a low ebony table in the middle. “Let me get you a drink,” he says, signaling the waitress. “A Little Mermaid,” he says, “and a Highlander.”

I give him a raised eyebrow, and he chuckles. “You’ll like it, relax. You look amazing, by the way. Love what you did with your eyes. It totally changes your expression from work.”

His eyes roam over my face, causing my skin to feel like I’ve got a low grade sunburn. I feel sexy, and when I do a switch on my legs, crossing my right over my left, his eyes watch every movement. I love the way he makes me feel. It’s like we never left off. “Are you saying I looked bad at work?” I ask playfully. “Less feminine?”

Jake licks his lips and laughs. “Hardly. But you looked scared out of your mind. Not like you do now. You look at home.”

I shrug, reaching into my purse. “Here’s your wallet. Uh, just to let you know, I robbed you blind.”

He chuckles and takes it from my hand. “I doubt that.”

Without even opening it, he takes the wallet and slides it into his jacket pocket. I stare at him for a moment, shocked. “You’re not going to count the money?”

“I trust you,” he says confidently. “You look more like an angel than a thief.”

I blush, then I laugh. “Okay, just don’t get mad when you get the credit card bill for that trip to Hawaii I booked, complete with matching Louis Vuitton luggage.”

Jake laughs again. “You’re not the type for LV luggage.”

The waitress comes back with our drinks. His Highlander looks interesting, almost like root beer, of all things. “What the hell is that?”

“Two ounces Japanese sake, two ounces of Scotch whisky, and the rest is Coke over crushed ice,” he says, lifting the clear beer mug. “Basically a Duncan Macleod, but we use real Highland scotch, so we renamed it.”

I nod and take a sip of mine. It’s fruity, with bright highlights, and I can already tell I’m going to have to go easy on it. I’ve got work in the morning, and I’m not supposed to be going home with Jake. “Damn, this is good.”

“Thank you. I had a hand in making it,” Jake says, sipping his mug.

“Did you? And did you have a hand in the drink the first night too?” I ask, and Jake shakes his head.

“No, wish I could say I did. The name alone is nice, though, don’t you think?”

I laugh as I take another sip of my drink. “It certainly makes memories. And the club?”

“Nathan and I had an architect help with the details, but we chose most of the layout. I wanted something different from the average club.”

“It’s one of the nicest I’ve ever been in,” I say honestly. “Nothing like Trixie’s.”

Jake takes a slow sip of his Highlander and sets it down, raising an eyebrow. “Trixie’s?”

I nod. “The club I used to sing at.” And shake my ass like nobody’s business. “It was my favorite place back home.”

“You’re a singer?” he says with some surprise. “You’re just full of little talents, aren’t you? What kind of music?”

“Nothing anymore,” I say, feeling the pain in my chest that comes with talking about it. Those days are gone. Despite Mindy’s encouragement, I haven’t given much thought to singing. But looking over the railing of the VIP lounge at the stage, I feel that same longing and admit to myself that there’s a void where singing used to be in my heart. I force myself to look away, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I stopped when I went back to college.”

“Why?” Jake asks, leaning forward. “I can see in your eyes that you practically want to run down there right now and grab a mic.”

“Yeah, well,” I say softly, shaking my head, “I didn’t think it was right that I wasn’t really making any money doing it and instead was mooching off my mom and stepfather. I thought it was time to move on, support myself.”

Jake nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Let me ask you, which makes you happier, singing or working at Franklin?”

“Singing,” I answer without even pausing for breath. “I don’t care what. Rock, pop, just about anything but country. But . . . like I said, I’m done living off someone else, Jake.”

Jake hums, then finishes the rest of his drink. “Mind singing something for me? Call it . . . call it your penance for accidentally stealing my wallet.”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “I haven’t sung in so long, I’m pretty sure my voice would crack. I don’t want to burst your eardrums. I thought I killed you once as it is.”

Jake chuckles. He looks like he wants to press the issue but doesn’t. Instead, he leans back, crossing his hands over his left knee. “Point taken. For now, but I’m not giving up just yet.”

I’m almost tempted to say that I could maybe sing a little tonight, but before I can, Nathan comes up the stairs, cursing and yelling into the air. “I told you to check the fucking hidden costs, didn’t I? In fact, I remember specifically telling you, ‘No way in hell should you sink your money in this, Titus. It’s a golden turd.’ Now you’re calling me to bitch that you’re losing money? Get the fuck outta’ here!”

“You guys been friends long?” I ask as Nathan heads off to the other end of the VIP section, where I see a laptop on one of the tables there.

“Since childhood,” he says. “He moved into the neighborhood when he was nine, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“He certainly has a way with words.”

Jake chuckles. “That he does. Not always to his benefit.”

I nod, smirking. “I think his first few words to me were sleazy broad, and I’m sure fuck was in the first sentence.”

Jake swallows, looking embarrassed. “Was it? I’ll have to talk to him.”

I shake my head, waving him off. “I was running out of that back room. He had no idea who the hell I was.”

Nathan comes over, his eyes twinkling in curiosity like he’s waiting to be introduced.

Jake gives him a head nod. “Nathan, this is Roxy. She brought back my wallet. Not bad for a sleazy broad, huh?”

Nathan looks abashed, but he laughs. “You’re right. Roxy, I apologize. My mouth gets the better of me sometimes. I looked at the video, and I promise you, if that asshole who tried to drug you comes in, he’s gonna find out I haven’t forgotten the old ways from the neighborhood.”

I offer my hand, and Nathan shakes it, then kisses my knuckles. “I like this side of you a lot more than the first impression,” I say.

“Of course. You know—” Nathan says when suddenly, there’s a crash down below. A drunken woman decided that Club Jasmine’s chairs were just perfect for her recreation of The Pussycat Dolls’ Buttons dancing, and she’s knocked a table, a waitress, and a bunch of other stuff onto the floor. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Excuse me.”

Nathan heads for the stairs, talking loudly in a juicy Bronx accent that I’m sure has plenty of people quivering in fear even as I try to hold in my laughter. “You know who he reminds me of?”

“Who?” Jake asks, and I laugh again. “No, really, who?”

“Joe Pesci. Like, how he looked in Goodfellas. Like Nathan would totally be at ease carrying a baseball bat right now.”

“Oh, don’t give him any ideas,” Jake says, chuckling. “Nathan’s a genius when it comes to making money, but there’s a reason he’s not working for a firm. He tried working for Goldman Sachs right out of college and ended up getting fired.”

“Why?” I ask, and Jake laughs.

“One of the Vice Presidents had a proposal, and Nathan told him in his typical manner that he disagreed with it. When the VP decided to defend himself by saying that one of the Seven Dwarves shouldn’t be worrying about what real men said, Nathan decided to get even. By the time Nathan was done, the VP was crying. I still don’t know how he didn’t get arrested for that one.”

“Damn, and you’re business partners with him?”

Jake laughs. “Don’t let his foul mouth fool you. He's sharp as a blade when it comes to running a business.”

I nod, intrigued. “Well, maybe I underestimated him then.”

“So, how long have you been working at Franklin Consolidated?” he asks me, changing subjects. “I decided not to pry.”

“For almost a year. I recently got a promotion, so I’m moving up some,” I say with a touch of pride. “Apparently, I’m decent at something, too.”

“That’s nice,” Jake says. “But no offense, you just don’t strike me as the corporate monkey type.”

“I didn’t think I was either. Before going back to school, I was . . . I was more free-spirited.”

Jake hums in appreciation. “You know, I think I saw a hint of that the other night. Unless you’re in a habit of being that . . . free-spirited.”

At the mention of my behavior on Saturday, I feel myself blush all the way to the roots of my hair, and I scratch at my chin. “Yeah . . . about that. I’m embarrassed about that. I’m normally not that hard up,” I say bluntly, feeling my confidence rising. “I’m usually a straight shooter, but I’m not that forward.” I take a deep breath and blurt it out brutally. “It’s been a while—let’s just leave it at that.”

He watches me intently, like he’s studying me. “I believe you.”

I’m tempted by the look in his eyes. He’s so handsome, so confident and assured, that I almost want to slide across the seat and kiss him. I want him to take me in the back and to finish what we started Saturday night, but Hannah’s right. All business, all business, I think to myself. In desperation, I try to think of something else to say. “So . . . how’d you get to where you are at your age? I mean, you’re not that much older than I am, are you?”

“Probably not,” Jake agrees. “I had a fire lit under my ass after I become caretaker for my sister.”

“Your sister?” I ask, surprised. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, she lives with me. Has ever since our parents passed,” Jake says. He leans forward, and looking at him, I feel like I’m seeing a side of him that few people do, and it’s a side that I want even more than what I saw on Saturday. “I had to grow up quickly.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say honestly, reaching out and patting his hand. “You must care for her very much.”

The conversation flows, the two of us growing closer as we find so much in common. Besides the surface things like similar tastes in music, we both see the world as a place to stand on your own, to make your own mark somehow. I order another Mermaid, but Jake stops me after my second, and it’s with a shock that I realize it’s near midnight. “Oh, wow,” I say, not slurring very much. “I guess it’s time to go home.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you like I said,” Jake says, helping me to my feet. He’s so close, I can’t help it as I press myself against him, looking in his eyes, and his hand falls to my lower back. He lowers his lips, kissing me softly, and I kiss him back, not with the fiery passion of Saturday night but with something truer.

“Jake . . .” I whisper when I step back, biting my lip in torn desire. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever said in my life because I want you so fucking badly right now, but I need you to call me a cab. You’re my boss, and we can’t finish what this starts. We need to keep this strictly business.”

Jake swallows, and I feel his hand pull me even tighter, but he stops and lets me go. With a shuddering breath, he nods. “Okay. I’ll have the staff call you a cab.”

I nod and reach down, grabbing my purse. “Thank you. Jake . . . this is like the best club I’ve ever seen, but I don’t think I should come back here. I think you know why.”

Jake swallows and nods. “I do.”

He calls John the security guy over, giving him instructions. John nods, and Jake turns back to me. “You’re all set. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I am, and yes,” I say, giving Jake a smile. “Goodnight.”

John escorts me downstairs and out to the already waiting cab, closing the door for me. Just as the cab gets ready to pull away, I see the door to Club Jasmine open again, and Jake steps out, giving me a wave. As the cab pulls away and I give him a wave back, there’s something inside me that says this is just the beginning.

Jake

Strictly business.

Roxy’s words run through my mind as I button up the cuff links of my dress shirt, the early morning sunset peeking in a fiery orange through the window behind me. I finish my shirt and turn around, keeping my eyes directly from the sun but looking out over the city. It’s peaceful, certainly not as bustling as New York or one of those other cities that never seems to sleep.

It shouldn’t really be a problem. Being Roxy’s boss definitely changes things. I can’t even lie about how I’m new in town or that she doesn’t report directly to me. It’d be a problem eventually if we kept seeing each other. But I can’t divorce myself from the way she felt underneath my hands. The images flash in my mind, making my dick swell in my custom-tailored Italian slacks, and I unconsciously reach down to adjust myself as I turn away from the window.

But more than her body, I can’t get over what she told me.

I run my hand over my freshly shaven cheeks, checking for any missed spots as I think about our conversation yesterday. I just can’t get over the look in her eyes when she told me she’d given up her dream to work in the soul-sucking corporate world. It crushed me, and her tiny attempt at salvaging her pride by saying she got a promotion just made it worse. It made me feel for her, not as a woman I’d like to fuck, but as a person I’d like to help.

Here I am, living part of my dream by being able to start my own business, which by every measure is going to be hugely successful, and she has to work a job she isn’t happy with. I could see the spark she has for life is dimmed by it all. And being around her makes me want to reignite it. I just don’t know how.

Saturday night, if I’d heard her story, it would have been easy. Foolish, most likely, but easy. Now, we’re bound by rules. There’s corporate protocol we have to follow. And I fucking hate rules. I’ve played by my own as much as I can for my whole life. It’s the main reason I always want to be the one in charge. I know that eventually, my penchant for doing it my own way is going to make enemies if I’m not the one making the decisions. One misstep will have my ass flapping in the wind.

I finish up my grooming, grabbing my suit coat off the bed. The bed is an absolute mess, but my maid will be in here to clean it up. I throw my coat over my shoulder and leave my bedroom. I’ll save the coat for later when I’m getting ready to go to the office.

I walk down the hall and knock on Sophie’s door. She’s been a sleepyhead recently, and I’m not going to let her skip school because I trusted her to get up on her own.

“Get up, Sophie,” I say. “Rise and shine.”

I hear a groan in the room and a creaking bed. Great, she hasn’t even woken up yet. When she doesn’t reply, I open the door and peek in. All I see is a spray of hair sticking out from under the sheet and what looks like her left foot hanging out below.

“Sophie, get up,” I say, tapping on the door. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”

Sophie’s reply is a low, grumbling moan. “Ugh, I’m trying to sleep.”

With no warning, I grab the blanket and sheet near her ankle and yank the covers.

“Ohmygawd! It’s cold, you ass!” Sophie yells, trying to grab the blanket, but I pull it the rest of the way off. Her disheveled hair gives her a stringy, mop-top appearance as she looks up at me with red eyes. She must’ve been up late last night, and I only hope it’s because she was cracking her history books.

“Get up. You have that test, remember?”

“Can’t you just give me a note and call in sick?” Sophie says, reaching for the little decorative blanket over her headboard, but before she can, I snatch it up and throw it out the door. “I fucking hate that class!”

“Doesn’t matter,” I reply, knowing the feeling. “Get up unless you want me to get the Super Soaker.”

I’m not one to be physical with a woman, but I’ve found the squirt gun a great way to get a teenage girl out of bed quickly. “Jerk,” she mutters. She grumbles and gets out of bed. “You’re the world’s biggest asshole.”

“An asshole who wants what’s best for you,” I say, holding back my grin. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. “And be careful. I don’t want you to fall and crack that big head of yours.”

I leave her room and go in the kitchen, indulging in one of my personal hobbies. Setting my coat across the back of a chair, I grab the cast-iron skillet and start making breakfast. Six minutes later, I have scrambled eggs, toast, marmalade, and a glass of orange juice sitting at the table. Sophie comes out, and while her eyes are still red, she’s at least brushed her hair out and looks cute, in a sort of teenage high school fuck the world, I wanna be in bed sort of way.

“You stay up all night?” I ask. “You seemed to be sleeping when I came home.”

Sophie nods. “I tried, but I woke up. I was on my phone.”

Alarm bells go off in my head. “With whom?”

“Jax,” she says flippantly, as if texting with someone that late is normal.

My stomach tightens. “Who’s he?”

“Just a boy from my math class,” she says. “We talk sometimes.”

I bite my tongue. That’s something I don’t really want to touch unless I absolutely have to. “Cool,” I say, trying to be nonchalant. “Bring him by sometime so I can meet him.”

She’s mortified. “Seriously? You’re cool and all, but I don’t want to scare him away.”

Exactly, I think inwardly.

We finish breakfast and go out and get in my ride, a ten-year-old Maserati that I keep in tip-top shape. I could let the horses loose on her and smoke just about anything on the streets if I wanted. But it’s not my thing anymore. Like I told Roxy, I had to grow up fast. I usually drive Sophie to school instead of having a driver take her unless it’s unavoidable. I work so much that I don’t see enough of her as it is.

The early morning traffic is just starting to get brutal on the way to Sophie’s high school, but we talk about things on the way. Most importantly to me, this Jax. She tries to be as secretive as possible. I’m not liking it, but I’m not going to make a deal of it.

Sophie looks over at me as we pull to a stop light. “You look handsome today,” she says, changing the subject.

“All right,” I reply with a laugh. “What do you want this time?”

“No, seriously. You have an extra pep in your step or something today,” says Sophie. “Something just seems different. I’m not trying to be weird or say you don’t dress well usually. All my girlfriends seem to notice.”

“Good for them,” I say. “But I’m too old and definitely not the Prince Charming they think I am.”

Sophie laughs. “Just trying to poke and see if there’s something going on I don’t know about. It’d be nice to see you focus on yourself for once. You’ve done enough for me.”

I’m silenced, and I’m glad we’ve reached her school. It’s not really something I want to talk about right now. I pull up out front, seeing the crowded student parking lot. I’ve considered getting her a car for her next birthday, but as crowded as that parking lot is, I’m not sure it’d do any good.

Sophie opens her door and grabs her bag, starting to get out before she stops and sits back down, giving me a half-pouting look. “For real, Jake. Chill out some. Go have some damn fun.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She grins and jumps out. “Thanks. You’re still a jerk for threatening the Super Soaker, but I’ll keep you around.”

“You’d better ace that test!” I call after her as she closes the passenger door.

I pull away and turn left at the first light, catching the main boulevard to head into the office. As I park and take the elevator up to Franklin Consolidated, I watch the city rise through the glass outside the elevator. It’s beautiful, and I’m looking forward to the day, maybe even more than a normal Tuesday. I glance down at my Rolex as the doors open. “Just on time.”

It’s a bustle of activity as I walk onto the main floor. People are calling clients, and I can hear the hum, the lifeblood of business flowing through the cubicle maze. I see people hustling, and I wonder if just my presence here after one day is making the changes that I want to see.

My eyes scan the room as I walk through on the way to my office, but I’m really only looking for one person in particular. Finally, I see Roxy, my stomach going tight as I take in her dark skirt and blue blouse. She looks up, almost as if she felt my eyes on her, and our eyes meet. She tears her gaze away, but not before I see the slight flush of pink on her neck. The corner of my lips lifts into a grin, and I turn away, heading to my office.

I get in and set my briefcase aside. Pulling my laptop to me, I fire it up and get to work. There’s a report request from corporate about my first impressions on the managers and who I might see being potential ‘trimmings’, but it’s too early for that. I send back a message saying that I need the rest of the week for evaluations, but I’ll get them my initial ideas by Friday.

Elena sticks her head in ten minutes after I finish, a folder in her hands. “Here’s the building inventory report Tom wanted to give you,” she says, setting it down on my desk.

I glance at it, knowing I’ll need to read it over but not wanting to. It’s just not that important to me. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything I can get for you, sir?”

“Get me the Hendricks report and the projections for next quarter. I’d like to review those before lunch.”

“Right away,” she says, walking briskly to the door.

My next words fly from my lips before I can stop them. “Oh, and Elena? Send Miss Price in, if you would.”

Once again, she looks at me with confusion in her eyes. Roxy is supposed to be an assistant but not my secretary. She’s not even high enough up the ladder to be talking with me at all. I can see Elena wonders what the hell I’m doing. But she doesn’t question me. “Of course, sir.”

When she leaves, I sit back in my chair, inwardly shaking my head at myself.

Was there any reason for that? I don’t need anything from her right now. But I can’t help myself. I just want to see her, hear her.

Several minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and I set down the pen that I’ve been spinning across my knuckles. I quickly adjust my tie and turn to my laptop, trying to look like I’ve been working and not daydreaming. “Come in.”

The door opens, and Roxy walks in. I have a hard time keeping my jaw from dropping as she closes the door. She’s so beautiful dressed in her tight skirt and blue blouse, her curvaceous figure seeming to taunt me with the promise of paradise. Under my desk, my blood warms my crotch as I think of the things that I want to do to her. That I almost had.

“You wanted me, sir?” she asks softly.

Sir. All business now. None of that playful spark I’ve noticed since first meeting her. I see how it is. She’s trying to put a barrier between us by being professional. I don’t like it. I want her spread out on my desk, her legs wrapped around my hips as I fill her with my cock.

“Sir?” she repeats when I don’t reply, breaking me out of my reverie. My cock is twitching in my pants, and I take a deep breath before replying.

“Yeah. How’re things going?” Damn, I sound like a moron.

“They’re going fine, sir.” She continues to hold her facade. But beneath, I can tell it's hard for her too. “Elena told me I had to get some projections ready, and I’ve already pulled the data. It’s printing now.”

“That’s good,” I reply, still feeling like an idiot.

“Is there anything else you need from me, sir?”

Yeah, I need you in my lap with your tits in my face as you ride me in that skirt. It’s almost criminal the thoughts she invokes in me.

I part my lips to tell her that I want to see her again. That the night before, she awakened a need in me that I haven’t felt for a long time. But then I think twice. “No, thank you. That is all.”

She nods respectfully to me and turns away.

“Roxy,” I call.

She stops and turns, one graceful hand on the door handle, and the words dry up in my throat again.

Tell me you want it, I think to myself. Tell me you want me to take you, bend you over my desk and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Her lips are parted, and I imagine her saying yes if I just say the words. “Enjoy your day.”

Something flashes in her eyes, so fast that I can barely register it. “You too, sir.”

Then she’s gone, the door closing softly behind her. I drop my head to the desk, thunking softly on my blotter, feeling a cauldron of emotions swirling in my gut. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe I should have her transferred to another floor so this doesn’t get out of hand. But when I think about actually doing it, I know I can't. Looking up as my email dings softly with another request from corporate, I realize one thing.

“I’ve got to get myself under control,” I mutter.

* * *

Over the next several days, I do my best to juggle work, overseeing the night club, and basically being both Mom and Dad for Sophie. During the work day, I spend my time concentrating on staying busy and settling into my new role of playing house-cleaner for the company, keeping thoughts of Roxy from my mind. I even use my lunch hours to use the in-building fitness center, hoping to bury my desire under a giant pile of sweaty tank tops and a couple of thousand pounds of iron.

After work, I drop by the nightclub to check in with Nathan. So far, Mr. Creepy Bastard hasn’t popped back up, and Andre is itching to get his hands on him. Nathan, too, and I’m not sure which of them would be preferable.

Even with all I’ve got going on, my thoughts constantly return to Roxy. I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about me, and how I can spend more time with her. She’s a sweet distraction. Throughout the morning, I find myself looking at her through the big window of my office whenever she’s moving around the room.

She’s bedeviling, that’s all there is to it. The sway of her hips as she walks, the way she parts those sweet, luscious lips . . . it’s maddening. My cock is begging to have them wrapped around it, sucking and licking till I explode down her throat.

“Will that be all, sir?” Elena says, pulling me from my reverie. She's just finished giving me the files I asked for earlier, and I realize that it’s nearly lunch time.

Thank God the weekend is finally here. I’m ready to relax and release some tension. I need something besides the constant distraction of Roxy.

“That’s all. Any weekend plans, Elena?”

She beams at me, backing up. “Nothing much, sir. I can say it’s been a good week with you here. I won’t have to drink half the amount I thought I’d have to.”

I laugh, and this time, I don’t tell her to come back and call Roxy. I haven’t seen her all morning. But I’ve been trying to stay away, avoiding looking out my window on purpose. The sexual tension has grown so much between us you could cut it with a knife. People are going to notice if I keep it up.

I go back to my laptop, looking at what I was supposed to be doing for the past hour, which is the damn manager evaluation report. It’s nothing formal. Corporate will grind through this for weeks before they do anything, but I still need to get my recommendations right. I start pounding away at my keyboard, knowing exactly who I want to get rid of, and just as I hit Send on the email, my cellphone buzzes. It’s Nathan. “What’s up, Nathan?”

“Remember when I said we should have theme nights?” Nathan asks immediately, no ‘hi’ or ‘what’s up’. “Well, you know the bartender, Sarah? She thought it was a good idea to start a karaoke night. And I thought tonight would be a good time to do a sort of short test run. It’s Friday, and a lot of people will be here to test the reception. Hell, I might even get up there and make some bitches’ ears bleed.”

I think, shaking my head. I’m really not sure about karaoke. But then it hits me . . . Roxy. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about seeing her, but a part of me knows that she needs this. “Let’s do it. Book it, Nathan. In fact, later tonight, let’s talk. Maybe we can do an open mic night or maybe a singing contest, find some local talent that’ll kick some ass.”

“My fuckin’ man! I like the way you think,” Nathan says. “All right, I’ll book it and see if we can get some social media marketing going on. See you later.”

I get up from my seat, putting my phone away. It’s near lunch time, and I see my workout bag sitting on my spare chair, ready for me, but first . . . I look through the glass into the main room. I don’t see her at her cubicle, which until now, I thought was cursed since I could see directly inside.

I grab my bag and walk out into the main room, looking around. Finally, just as I’m about to give up and head downstairs, I see Hannah, her close friend, coming out of the bathroom.

“Hello, boss,” Hannah says, all business when I walk up, though I see the mischievous spark in her eyes. I can see why she and Roxy are good friends. There’s a lot of smarts in that wiseass look.

“Have you seen Roxy?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice neutral.

Her eyes furtively flit back, and she looks me up and down but doesn’t push it. I wonder what secrets she’s hiding. I know they have probably talked about me. “She went down to the mail room to get something for Matt.”

“Matt?”

“Yeah, you know . . .” she says before pointing. “The guy that works over there.”

I look over, seeing whom she’s talking about. I’ve seen him around. He’s got a smug countenance that puts me off. “And does Roxy report to him?”

“No, just—”

“Then that’s going to have to stop. Matt can get his own stuff, don’t you think?” I ask, glancing back at Hannah.

Hannah nods, smiling a little. “That’s what I always say, but he tries to use his seniority to get her.”

‘What’s his position?” I ask. “I don’t know the full chain around here just yet.”

“I honestly have no idea. He’s Byron’s buddy, that’s all I know,” Hannah says.

I’m going to have a talk with Matt, I think inwardly while shrugging. “Thanks. You have yourself a good weekend,” I say, holding back my grin. If things go right, I’ll probably be seeing her tonight if I can convince Roxy to come to the club.

“You too, Mr. Stone.”

I leave and take the elevator to the second floor, where I see the signs for the mail room. I don’t see her when I go in, and I wonder for a moment if Hannah’s lied to me. But then I see her, down the hall with a stack of papers in hand. I pick up my speed and catch her just before the elevator doors close.

I stick my foot in the doors before it can close completely and step inside. Roxy’s lips part in surprise when she sees me, and she practically stumbles back against the wall. “Mr. Stone,” she breathes. “What . . .?”

I grin as I press the Close button, then the button for the fitness center. As soon as the doors meet, I turn and advance toward her, caging her in with one hand on either side of her. She shrinks further against the wall as nerves pulse from her in waves.

Her perfume wafts to my nostrils. I love the fragrance, a serious yet still light tone. She even has sultry makeup to go with it. I can’t help it—being this close to her and looking into her beautiful eyes, my cock grows in my pants.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say. “Why?”

She ducks her head. “We agreed that we’d be professional.”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” I counter. “You said we should be professional.” I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m her boss and I am dangerously over the line on sexual harassment if she wants to nail my ass. But I don’t think I can abide by the rules. “I don’t agree.”

She’s panicked, her eyes darting back and forth as I move in closer, pressing my hard body against her, letting her feel me. All of me. “But, sir . . .”

“Stop calling me sir,” I growl, staring into her eyes. “You’re too innocent for that . . . unless you want me to give you a reason to call me sir.”

I tug on a wisp of her hair, moving my lips down to her neck, tasting her sweet skin again, my body throbbing with need. Usually, I can’t wait for the elevator to make it down to the gym, but this time, I reach over blindly, hitting the Stop button with my free hand, not caring about the dinging noise. “Oh, gawd,” Roxy groans, nearly melting into me as my lips trail her flesh. I can feel her heart pounding so hard in tandem with the blood pumping through my dick. “Yes . . .”

My whole body screams for me to take her. Right here and now, to hell with the consequences. If we got caught, the whole world be damned. It’d be worth it. She’s worth it.

I reach down, grabbing her ass and pulling her skirt up, squeezing her ass with my right hand as I nibble and suck on her lips, feeling her submit to my insane desire. And it is insane. Seeing an employee is one thing. But fucking her in the elevator is a good way to find myself fired.

Still, I slide my knee between hers and spread her legs. She moans, grabbing my head and kissing me fiercely, gasping as the bulge of my cock in my pants rubs against the satiny slickness of her panty-covered pussy. “We can’t . . .”

“We are,” I growl, staring in her eyes. “You wanted me . . . you got me, Angel.”

I grind my cock against her, staring into Roxy’s eyes as her hips start taking over, riding the bulge of my cock. Even through the cloth, her pussy is white hot, and I thrust against her, dry humping her. Grinding against her, I can feel my cock throb, and I don’t care. I’m tempted to pull back, undo my pants, and bury myself inside her. Our tongues twist and taste each other as I pin her against the elevator wall, our bodies needing it.

I can feel her start to tremble, shaking as I push her harder and faster, and I thrust harder, staring in her eyes as she digs her fingers into the back of my neck, moaning thickly. “Jake . . .”

“Come for me, Angel,” I growl, grinding into her. It’s all she needs, and she bites her bottom lip, shaking and whining softly as she comes. “My turn.”

I let her down to turn her around, pushing her lush body up against the wall of the elevator so I can free my cock. It’s throbbing, and I can feel the precum soaking my boxers. I need her so badly. “Bend over.”

She does, and I realize I don’t have a condom, but I’m so fucking hard that I don’t care. I’m going to fuck her anyway. I almost do, but she’s saved by the phone ringing. Fucking cockblocking Building Security. I pick up the phone. “Is everything okay?” a voice asks.

I step away from her, straightening my tie and fighting down my desire. My cock is raging hard in my pants, and I know that my underpants are ruined. Fuck it, I’m going to the gym anyway, and right now, I’ve got some extra motivation for my workout. “Yes, just a bit of nausea, thank you,” I say, hanging up the phone and starting the elevator again. I turn to Roxy, who’s still gasping. “Tonight is a special night at the club.” I omit telling her it’s karaoke night. “I expect you to be there. And wear something flashy.”

Her eyes seem to scream, But what about our agreement? despite the fact that we almost just fucked in an elevator. The car reaches the gym level, and with a ding, the doors open. Finally, Roxy speaks up. “What time?”

With one last look, I step out, grinning victoriously. “Make it eight thirty. I’ll see you then.”

The doors start to close, and just before they do, she flashes me a bit of her saucy grin. “Yes, sir.”

Oh, she’s gonna get it.

Roxy

“What happened to strictly business?” Hannah scolds me as we walk into our apartment after work and I toss my jacket on the couch. Squatting, I pull off my work heels and toss them onto the floor before I sag into the couch, exhausted by the half hour of bickering.

“And I have been!” I argue. “But I can’t help that he cornered me and ordered me to go.”

“Ordered you?” Hannah says, pulling off her heels and throwing them across the room and nearly hitting Mr. Felix, who goes scrambling away with a feline yowl of outrage. “What is he, your daddy?”

“No, but he’s my boss!” I groan, laying my head back on the cushion, hoping to keep the headache that’s threatening to break out behind my eyeballs from turning into a migraine.

“Yeah, but this isn’t something you had to say yes to!”

“He didn’t give me time to say no,” I half lie. “He walked off before I could say anything.”

Besides, the truth is, the way he made me come left me breathless. I still haven’t gotten over how good it felt to feel that big, hard cock rubbing up against my . . .

“You just want to go,” she accuses with a smirk on her face, pulling me out of my lustful thoughts. “Admit it.”

It’s true. I can’t even work up the energy to disagree. All week, I’ve been avoiding him, trying my best to do what needs to be done. But after that move he pulled in the elevator . . . shit. I have to go. He dropped in on me and tempted me. Now I’m like a bee that's going after her honey.

“Anyway, I’m going to get ready,” I say ending the conversation without admitting anything, but my eyes give it away. She’s right and she knows it. “Tonight, yes, I’m going,” I say when I’m not facing her. I laugh. “Don’t worry! I won’t overdo it.”

Hannah yells, “You lowdown, dirty tramp!”

I laugh, going into my bedroom. Wear something flashy. Jake's words come back to me. Flashy? Oh, I know flashy. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some of my club wear somewhere in here. I never throw anything out. I go plunging into my closet, reminding myself that someday, I have to clean and organize all this shit, when I see it. My dress. It was a gift from some of the guys at Trixie’s when I was getting scouted for a record deal. Thigh-length and sparkly, it’s flowy and flirty but still clings to my curves, molding itself against my breasts and making me look hot. Quickly stripping, I wish the dress had space for a bra, but there isn’t. I’m just going to have to go all-natural. It makes me feel sexy, my nipples hardening in anticipation before I go hunting for my naughtiest silver and white thong and let the dress pour over my shoulders and down.

I find the matching heels for this thing and slide them on, checking myself in my mirror. A quick tousle of my hair, and I look at myself again, stunned. “Damn,” I murmur, grinning. Here is what I’ve been missing. Here’s the Roxy who used to make people scream my name, and not just the few lucky men in bed. I do a quick little touchup of my makeup around my eyes and walk out, twirling as I do, showing off with a spunk I haven’t felt in a long time. “All right girl, whatcha think? Will I blow up the club or what?”

“Okay. Fuck this shit!” Hannah, who’s sitting on the couch, yells when she sees me. Without another word, she disappears into her room. I can hear her mumbling that I’m making a huge mistake and should listen to her, and I can tell she’s getting dressed. In minutes, she comes back in a similar sparkly getup and heels. “Take that, bitch!”

She struts in front of me, popping a hip in my direction. “As you can see, you’re not the only one with an ass around here.”

I laugh. At least she’s given up on lecturing me. “So you’re going?” I ask incredulously. “And where the hell did you get that?”

“Just from that thrift store downtown, and you’re damn right. Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble and show you how to do it. And someone’s got to protect the men from Roxy’s Raging Hormones!”

I laugh. “You could’ve at least worn something different. Copycat.”

Hannah scowls at me. “Copycat? Girl, please. I look good. Better than you! Don’t I, Mr. Felix?”

Mr. Felix, who is perched on the coffee table, jumps off it and crawls under the couch to the point where only his eyes are peeking out. I laugh hard. “I guess that answers your question. He knows the difference between class and ass.”

“You little bastard!” Hannah rages, pointing at Felix as she goes for her keys. “I’m serious, nothing but dry food from the dollar store for you, the cheapest I can find!”

I laugh uproariously as we leave our apartment.

We get into Hannah’s car, and on the way over to the club, she resumes her preaching. Thankfully, for my head, to a lesser extent.

“Remember, whatever happens,” she says as we park, “keep it cute or put it on mute. Just don’t go home with him. Let's have our fun or whatever.”

I roll my eyes, closing the door. At least this time, we’re in the main parking lot, even though it’s still pretty packed. “Yes, yes . . . I’ve heard this all before! Please shut up, Mother!”

We climb the steps to the door, where I see John from my last visit on door duty. He gives me a respectful nod again and a slight smile. “Miss Price, it’s good to see you again. Mr. Stone left instructions that he’d be waiting in the VIP section. Is this Hannah?”

Jake must’ve known I’d bring her. Hannah bites her lip, and I can see she’s into John a little bit. I get it. He’s handsome and charming in that mysterious kind of way, and anyone who could work security at a place like this has to know how to handle themselves. “Hi.”

John chuckles and opens the door. “Hi. Enjoy yourself.”

We go inside, and I’m immediately struck by how packed the club seems. There’s a trickle of energy threading its way through the crowd, and I feel more beautiful than even the first night I was here. There’s joy in the air, joy and excitement, and while I don’t know why, I can’t help but be infected by it.

“Come on,” Hannah says, smiling too as she tugs me toward the stairs to the upper level. “Hey, you know the doorman?”

“His name’s John, and that’s all I know.” I laugh, following her up the stairs. We reach the VIP section, and my heart stops when I see Jake. He’s sitting in a huge semicircular couch, Nathan relaxing next to him. The glass table in front of them has wine bottles and glasses and ice. Jake looks like a vision dressed in black pants and a red dress shirt, a hint of his muscular chest visible. Hot desire shoots through my blood as I look at him, barely noticing Nathan, who is grinning deviously.

“Who’s that?” Hannah asks, bringing me back to reality. “The other guy.”

“That’s his friend I told you about. The money man?”

“He’s too short for me,” she whispers. “Don’t care about the money.”

“But he has a big personality and maybe . . .” I start.

Hannah rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Gimme some credit, I’m not that shallow.”

“Ladies, ladies,” Nathan says in greeting. “Or should I say angels? Wow, I have never been more wrong about my first impression of someone.”

I laugh, shaking hands with Nathan while Jake gets up, coming over and shaking hands with Hannah before putting a hand on my lower back. “Nathan’s right, you both look stunning,” he says before whispering in my ear. “And you truly look amazing,” he says, his voice dripping with desire. “My Angel.”

Being called Jake’s angel makes my knees quiver, and I’m glad when he leads me over to sit down, the boys in the middle while Hannah and I take the outsides. I’m aware more than ever of Jake as his leg presses against my thigh, and I’m glad when Nathan leans forward and pours everyone a glass of champagne. “To a second successful week of Club Jasmine, and to wrong first impressions.”

“Not all first impressions are wrong,” Hannah says, toasting with us. “The place still looks just as awesome as it did last Saturday.”

“Well, of course. I’m still here,” Nathan says with a laugh, sipping his champagne. “And with you and Roxy here, it has class, too.”

I half choke on my champagne, laughing at the similarity to the joke Hannah and I had earlier, coughing a little before setting my glass down. “Sorry . . . don’t mean to make an ass of myself.”

Hannah must be remembering the same thing, because she starts laughing, thankfully without a mouthful of champagne to choke back, and she leans against the couch. “So, Nathan, Roxy tells me you’re the brains behind the place?”

“Hey!” I protest, but Nathan chuckles.

“No, it’s a team effort. He’s got the show, and I’ve got more than enough go.”

Jake shakes his head, leaning back. He teases, “Put a pretty lady on his arm in public, and he’s Mr. Confidence. Just be careful, Hannah. Get him alone and you might find yourself disappointed.”

We talk back and forth, relaxing and having fun, and while I can see Hannah likes Nathan, there’s not really sparks there. We finish our glasses of champagne when suddenly, Nathan gets up. “Excuse me guys, I’ve gotta do my announcement.”

Without pausing, Nathan hurries to the stairs, leaving me confused.

“What’s that about?” Hannah asks, thinking the same thing I am.

Jake bends over and whispers something in Hannah’s ears. She looks at me, lit up like a light bulb, grinning a secret smile.

“Hey what was that all about?” I ask, wondering what the hell Jake and Nathan have cooked up.

Jake’s smile is all mystery. “You’ll see.”

Just as I’m about to open my mouth, I hear Nathan’s Bronx accent amplified on a microphone, and I turn, seeing him on stage. “What’s up, Club Jasmine?”

There’s a cheer from the crowd, and Nathan grins. He’s got enough personality to look seven feet tall on stage. “It’s been a hell of a week, guys. And today, my partner and I were trying to think of what we could do to say ‘Thank you’ to everyone who’s been coming to Club Jasmine. And we came up with an idea we think you’ll like. A way to give a little back to you.”

I sit forward, intrigued. Nathan continues. “So tonight, we’re holding an impromptu karaoke contest. For the next half hour, you can sign up at the bar. And while this is supposed to just be fun, the winner tonight gets a thousand dollars.”

The buzz is huge, and less than a minute later, some guy’s up on stage, belting out Bon Jovi. While he’s got energy and is having the time of his life, I think, he can’t sing for shit. “Jesus, my ears are bleeding!” Hannah yells, covering her ears. “Make it stop!”

Jake laughs. “I’ve heard worse. You should hear Nathan!”

The first guy finishes, and next up on stage is a girl. She’s just as terrible, although she can shake her ass like it’s nobody’s business, so she gets plenty of applause as she caterwauls her way through Break Free.

Still, even though almost nobody can really sing, they’re having a great time. I’m feeling it, the itch in my toes and the thrum in my chest as each tone deaf contestant gets up there. Yeah, none of them are singers and they know it. But they’re up there, they’re performing and having a ball . . .

Nathan gets back on stage. “Jasmine, thank you. You guys are bringing it! Now, I have somethin’ special. She hasn’t signed up, but I think up next is my new friend over here.”

Suddenly, the spotlight shines up on us, and I’m blinded. It still hadn’t clicked until that moment, and I turn to stare at Jake in horror. “You did this!”

Jake shrugs. “Worked, didn’t it?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “No way, I’m not going!”

“Get your ass up there,” Hannah says. “You know you want to!”

Hannah’s right, the stage is calling to me. I can feel it pulling me. But I don’t move, setting my face. Hannah gets up and runs down to the stage. I don’t think she’s been in on this, but you could’ve fooled me. It damn sure seems it. The crowd roars as she snatches the mic from Nathan and starts shoving him off stage. “Go on, they’ve seen enough of your ass!”

The crowd laughs, and Hannah holds up a hand. “Guys, I wish I were the singer Nathan here was talking about, but I’m just the eye candy.”

There’s a few whistles about that, and Hannah grins. “Yeah, thought so. Listen, the person who is supposed to be down here is my best friend and roommate. She used to be a professional, so I think it’d be unfair to let her win the money. This is just for the love of singing. Now, I never actually saw her perform, but I’ve heard her sing around the apartment, and this bitch can sing!”

I blush, and Jake leans over. “Just one song. For me, Angel?”

I turn to him as Hannah continues. “So what I need from you guys, we need to give her some motivation. Roxy . . . Roxy . . . Roxy . . .”

The crowd picks up the chant, and Jake leans in again. “Okay, not for me. Do it for yourself.”

Jake’s closeness and the crowd’s chants leave me tingling, and finally, blushing furiously, I nod. “Fine!”

I get up, and I feel Jake behind me, escorting me down the stairs, his hand light on my lower back again. In my heels and outfit, I feel sexy. But most importantly, I feel special. The crowd goes nuts as I reach the steps, and Jake leans in again. “You can do this. Go knock ‘em dead.”

He gives me a kiss on the cheek, and I get on stage, waving. “What’s up, Club Jasmine?”

I see the teleprompter, and I start thinking of some of the songs I know by heart, when suddenly, Hannah goes over to the DJ, whispering in his ear. Oh, shit. What the hell is she going to put on?

The music starts, and I panic, recognizing the raunchy classic Milkshake almost immediately. She would do that. One fucking time singing it half drunk for Mr. Felix, and this is what I get? Oh, my God, Hannah. I’m gonna kill you.

The crowd’s into it, though, and I feel forced to perform, moving my body to the sexy high-energy beat.

I move on stage, singing my ass off, and I feel it. The buzz inside me grows into a fire as I see the crowd’s reaction. At first, the audience sits there, surprised. People start looking at each other as if shocked I can actually perform, then they start getting into it, singing with me.

I get into it even more and start shaking my ass, my confidence building as I work the stage. It feels like old times again, and the crowd roars as I switch voices, a talent I picked up because I love so many group numbers, going from a low contralto to a high pitch and back as I play the various parts.

The crowd is jamming, getting into the song and loving it. I even see a few couples start dancing together, grinding, and one small group working it. They’re good. They could totally be dancers on stage.

As the last notes fade, I’m covered in sweat, but the crowd roars their approval, and I raise my hands, thanking them. “Would y’all like to hear some more?”

The crowd screams. “Roxy! Roxy! Roxy!”

I grin and go over to the DJ, taking a minute to write down four songs and swig some water before coming back on stage. The next song starts, and I grin at Jake as I start with the popular club jam, Rihanna’s This Is What You Came For. It might be more electronic than what I normally sing, but the crowd loves it, and some are even singing along before I take it even more naughty, Britney Spears’ Toxic, and then one totally non-sexy but fun song, Uptown Funk.

I’m covered in sweat as the crowd roars again, and I feel my breath rushing in and out of my lungs. “Wow, thank you, guys. Now, I’d like to wrap up the same way I always did at Trixie’s with something a little slower. So if you don’t mind . . .”

The DJ starts the song again, the sultry, sexy tones coming through, and I’m glad that it calls for breathy singing, because right now, Dangerous Woman is about all I’ve got the lungs for. Still, I launch into it, and as I hit the end bits, the crowd’s loving it, hands in the air, and even the people at the bar are on their feet.

When I’m done, I have to almost stagger off stage, where Jake catches me coming down the steps. I’m literally slick with sweat, but he doesn’t care, pulling me close and kissing me hard on the lips. His arms are so strong as I kiss him back, letting him almost carry me to a waiting chair.

“I’m out of shape for this. How’d I do?” I ask. It’s the first question I always ask coming offstage.

Jakes eyes burn with desire, but he grabs a bottle of water, handing it and a towel to me. “You were absolutely incredible.”

* * *

Karaoke night was a hit!” Nathan crows. He looks at me. I’ve recovered enough that I’ve rejoined everyone upstairs in the VIP lounge as the club closes. “Jesus, Roxy . . . if you can sing like that, what are you doing working in the same shithole as Jake? You should be on a stage selling out stadiums!”

“Trust me, I tried,” I say, feeling the pang of regret that comes with his words. “But when it’s not paying the bills . . .”

“Fuck that noise,” Nathan says as I shrug. “If I had a voice like yours, I’d crash a record exec’s office and say you only need ten seconds before you’ll wanna sign me.”

If only it were that easy, I think inwardly. “What can I say? A&Rs are assholes.”

Hannah, who’s had a few too many Little Mermaids, giggles. “Hey, can I get another? I’m not ready to give up!”

I shake my head, knowing I’m going to have to take Hannah home. Besides, her last comment sort of stings, even though I know she wasn’t talking about me. I didn’t want to give up either. But in an industry where if you haven’t made it by twenty as a woman, you’re almost never going to make it, I just couldn’t face it anymore. Hell, some of the songs I sang tonight are damn near golden oldies, and the girl at the top of the charts this week wasn’t even born when Toxic came out.

“Yeah, well . . . listen, can we leave Hannah’s car here overnight? I don’t think she’s good to drive.”

Jake, who’s been smiling with Nathan, looks over. “Sure, but what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie, feeling a wave of depression start to creep in. “I’m just exhausted. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

Jake seems to understand. “Would you like to go home, then?

“I’d appreciate it,” I say honestly. “But Hannah . . .”

“Babe, I’m fine,” Hannah says, and I can see she’s ‘happy drunk’ but not ‘stupid drunk’. “You sure you’re okay, though?”

I make sure my voice is convincing. “I’m okay, just tired.”

“Okay then, go on, get out of here and get some rest. I’ll be along in a little bit.”

“But I can’t just leave you here. How are you getting home?” I ask, but Hannah waves it off.

“Honey, don’t worry about me!” Hannah assures me. “I’ll get a cab if I need to. But what I do need right now is another Mermaid!”

Nathan laughs. “One more and then I’m cutting you off. After that, black coffee. Owner’s orders,” he teases. “Don’t worry, Roxy. I’ll call her a cab or take her home myself if she wants.”

“Thank you, Nathan,” Jake says. He stands up and takes me by the hand. “Come on, Angel. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

Jake

“You were amazing on stage,” I tell Roxy, turning left. I’m driving her back to her place, glad that I only had a few drinks. Roxy did too, but she’s exhausted. The set on stage gave her a huge high that’s now crashing on her. She’s been quiet since leaving the club.

Thinking about Roxy, I’m still blown away. Her voice was pure heaven. She worked the stage like a pro. Every time I thought she couldn’t do more, she did. Watching her sway her hips to the beat heated my blood. Three times, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when she dropped it down on some of the songs, never missing a note as she did moves I don’t think are legal in some states.

Even more than how hot she was, watching her on stage ignited a crazy desire inside me. I want to help her. I mean, it wasn’t like I thought she was lying about the other club. I was sure she could hold a tune. But watching her tonight . . . she really has talent.

“Roxy?”

“Thank you,” she says quietly. Something is on her mind. I saw it in her eyes, the disappointment when Nathan was complimenting her. It was like it only made her more depressed.

“What’s wrong? The crowd loved you.”

I loved you, I think inwardly, remembering how she looked so in her element. But those three words are too close to something else, and I don’t want to have any confusion.

Roxy sighs, leaning her head against the window, looking out at the lights. “It just brought up memories, that’s all. Reminded me of everything I went through.”

My heart breaks for her. Her desire is one of those that sits right next to her soul, maybe even in her soul. Not having it is making her sick. I wish I could do something. I don’t know anything about the world of music, but I’d learn just for her. “You did so well out there.”

“I’ll admit it was fun and all. And the crowd gave me life. But after the adrenaline wore off, it kind of hit home. I’m not angry at you, Jake, but maybe I should’ve never done it.”

I’m speechless. It hurts to hear her say these words. I thought the exact opposite would happen. I was hoping that by showing her how good she is, she’d feel a jolt of energy again.

Roxy turns to look at me. “I’m not like you, knocking everything I try out of the park. I tried my hardest. Oh, my God, the number of hours I worked on my voice, doing lessons and sticking to diets to make sure I wasn’t just overlooked because of that alone. And you know what I’ve got for it?”

“No,” I reply, stopping at a red light.

“I’ve got a stack of demo CDs fifteen inches high. They’ll never be heard.”

I cringe inside, hating the defeat in her voice. “Did something happen to make you question your confidence in yourself?”

Roxy nods, looking in her lap. “Well, I’ve never told anyone this. But I did get an interview with this record exec while I was finishing my degree. He said he worked for a subsidiary of one of the major labels. He wanted to hear my voice, said he listened to my demo CD. I borrowed my stepfather’s car and drove five hundred miles to this guy’s office. I thought maybe he’d want to listen to me sing with a band, or maybe in person, so I took the time to work up my best piece in three different genres. I could do fast pop, a ballad, or one of those tearjerker songs.”

“Sounds like you took it seriously,” I admit. “What happened?”

“I didn’t even get to sit down before the guy said he’d get me a deal . . . if I gave him head. He said I’d get a Grammy inside of two years if I fucked him.”

“Son of a bitch!” I half growl, clenching the steering wheel angrily. “I’ve always heard the rumors of shit like that.”

“So yeah. I told him the only way his dick was getting off was by being jammed in his own ass. I’m pretty sure he spread rumors about my being difficult to work with after that, but I don’t know that for sure. I just know all interest whatsoever dried up after that. I ended up going back to college, then applying for Franklin Consolidated. The rest is history.”

Roxy falls silent as I drive the rest of the way to her apartment. I know this building. It’s a great place. Not quite as good as my penthouse, but it’s a good building.

“I guess this is it,” Roxy says, reaching for her purse. “Can you make sure Hannah gets here safely?”

“I will,” I say. I was gonna go back to the club, but now . . .

“Goodnight,” she says, getting out. Earlier, she was ready to take me right there in the club. I could see it, but now she’s down and I can’t help but feel responsible.

“Wait,” I say, getting out of my car. “Roxy, wait!”

Roxy turns, looking at me suspiciously as I approach, and I know she’s distrustful of me right now. After that story about the record exec, I’m sure she sees me like I’m a snake.

“Let me walk you up at least?” I ask. I can’t let her leave like this. She needs something to unleash all that emotion on.

“I don’t know,” she says, but I ignore her, taking her hand.

I hit my remote on my car, glad I parked in a visitor's slot. Then again, Roxy’s worth a ticket and a tow.

She grips my hand back, and I tug her gently to come on. “I mean, the place is a mess,” she finally says.

“I’m not worried about your dirty socks,” I reassure her.

“And then there’s Mr. Felix . . .” she says, giving me a half smile and a sigh. “My cat.”

We get to the elevator, and I’m reassured when Roxy hits the button for her floor. She doesn’t let go of my hand when the door opens, and instead, we walk down the short hallway, Roxy fishing her keys out and unlocking the door.

“Welcome,” she says, and I’m immediately greeted by the yowling of a big orange cat that goes streaking away from me at first sight. “That’s Mr. Felix.”

“I see he doesn’t like me,” I joke, closing the door behind me.

“Don’t worry, he doesn't bite. He does scratch, though, so make sure you’re on your best behavior.”

I laugh, and Roxy smiles. She lets go of my hand to hang her purse on the coat hook near the door, giving me a look before walking over near the couch, which has a great view of the floor-to-ceiling window and the skyline around us. I walk over, admiring the view. “This is a nice place.”

“Hannah and I make ends meet, but not much more.”

“You said your stepfather’s got money,” I note, turning around. “He doesn’t help out?”

“He would in a heartbeat, but I don’t need it,” she declares. “It’s nice to know I have a backup if something ever happened, but I’d rather handle things myself.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I lean in, kissing her on impulse. It’s deep and soft, not the hot passion of that first night or the seductive intensity of the elevator moment we dangerously shared at work. I’m kissing her because it feels so right, and Roxy kisses me back, her tongue touching mine, feather light.

“Jake . . .” she whispers, putting her hands on my chest. “You’re my boss. You need to leave. We can’t keep this up.”

I look into her eyes again, my hands tightening on her waist as I pull her closer. “I know I should . . . but I don’t want to. You’re driving me crazy. You’re all I think about. I don’t know if I care about shoulds and should-nots.”

Roxy looks like she’s about to protest when suddenly, she melts into my arms, her arms coming up around my neck to kiss me hard. This time, the passion, the need is immediate, and I push her against the window, my hand running under the hem of her dress to cup and squeeze her ass as I trail kisses over her lips and down her neck.

“Oh, God, this is . . .” Roxy moans as she runs her fingers through my hair.

“This is right,” I whisper as I tug at her ear with my teeth, pulling her closer. “I need you.”

“What if Hannah comes back?” Roxy moans, running her fingernails over my neck, pushing my shirt back a little as I squeeze her ass and move back to kissing her lips. “What if she walks in?”

“We just got here. She’s not going to be home anytime soon,” I growl, pulling her away from the window. “But we can still go to your bedroom . . . or the sofa, if that’s too damn far.”

I pick Roxy up. She feels like she weighs nothing in my arms as I carry her across to the couch. I set her down, and she lifts her dress for me. I’m stunned to my knees as her beautiful body is exposed to me.

I lean forward, pulling her into me as I kiss down her neck to her breasts, finding her right nipple and nibbling on it, the light bites making her gasp and moan. “Jake . . . oh, fuck.”

I let my tongue tease the stiff nub of her nipple. It’s perfect, tender and responsive. My cock throbs and my heart pounds as Roxy moans to every touch of my tongue, and when I start sucking on her nipple, she’s shuddering, her hips bucking in the nearly see-through white panties she’s still wearing.

“Oh, fuck, Jake . . . don’t stop.”

I reach down, sliding my hand inside her panties while I suck harder. Roxy throws her head back, gasping as I trace the wet outline of her pussy until I find her clit, lightly rubbing my thumb over it until she cries out. I look up at Roxy as her breasts quiver at the power of her orgasm. “Holy shit.”

“Just getting started. I need to see you, taste you,” I growl, tugging her panties down. She’s glistening, soaked in the light of the overhead lamp, and before she can even take another breath, I devour her, sucking and licking her pussy. I run my tongue deep inside her, savoring her wetness until I’m moaning even more, ravenous for her.

“Jake . . . fuckfuckfuck,” Roxy moans incoherently, tugging on my hair as she grinds her pussy into my hungry lips. “That’s it, baby, that’s how I like it.”

“Mmm, your milkshake is bringing me to the yard,” I half tease as I pull my tongue out to lick her clit. It’s perfect, and at the first flicker of my tongue over the tip, she lifts her hips, letting me slide my hands underneath her ass cheeks and not allowing her any respite.

There’s something about Roxy that drives me to new levels of passion and hunger. Growling, I suck and nibble at the tender button, my ears ringing with her cries as I push her, squeezing her ass even as my tongue flutters over her clit, circling it and driving her higher and higher.

My cock throbs in my pants, and I’m glad that I’ve already given her one orgasm, because the way I feel, I don’t know how long I’m going to last once I get inside her. Suddenly, Roxy pulls my head back, almost as if she senses my worry. “Fuck me! Pull your cock out and fuck me!”

I grin as I hurriedly undo my belt and yank my pants down, my cock standing thick and proud. I pull again, buttons flying as I tear my shirt off.

I don’t care. All I see is Roxy as she holds her long, perfect legs open for me, her pussy calling to me as I line myself up. I stop, just before taking her, realizing I don’t have a condom. I hadn’t thought of it. “Roxy . . .”

“In my bedroom nightstand,” she says, knowing what I’m thinking. “It’s the room on the right. And hurry. If you don’t fuck me now, you’re never getting another chance,” Roxy growls.

I practically run, grabbing a condom and getting back to her as fast as I can. Who am I to deny a lady what she needs? She’s writhing on the couch, moaning for me to hurry. With a deep growl, I slide it on in one smooth motion. I take a deep breath, then thrust forward, filling her in one long stroke that leaves us both wide-eyed. Her pussy is perfect, gripping me and massaging my shaft as I stay deep inside her, grinding my hips against her as I claim her. Never have I felt anything like it, and I pull back, pausing for a moment before I sink into her again, relishing the sensation. I moan deeply as Roxy wraps her legs around me, both of us lost in a haze as our bodies fall into rhythm.

I thrust hard and deep, each stroke of my cock making Roxy’s body shake as I pound her into the couch. Reaching up, I grip the back of her head as my lips find hers and we kiss hungrily. My hips stroke over and over into her, slapping against her legs and ass as I abandon myself. She’s perfect, squeezing and clenching around my cock so tightly that it feels like my balls are going to explode.

With each hard, driving stroke, Roxy’s eyes darken and her mouth drops open, her body overwhelmed by the feeling of what I’m doing to her. There’s no breath for words, just the harsh pants and grunts of two people meeting in deep, intense, passionate sex. My fingers clutch the back of her couch as I give her everything I have, my muscles rippling and the sweat running down our bodies as we hurtle together toward what I know is going to be an earthshaking orgasm.

“Almost there,” I grunt harshly with the last of my control, my cock throbbing and steely hard within her.

“Come for me, Jake!” Roxy moans, and I’m pushed over. I thrust deep into her, crying out as I come. She’s right with me, and her body shakes as she comes around my cock. I kiss her, holding her close as I tremble, staying deep within her as I catch my breath.

I pull back and rip off the condom when we can finally breathe again, looking at her, and she realizes I’m looking for a trash can. “Over there.” She points. As soon as I toss it in, I realize this may have been a mistake. We’re not going to be the same at work after this.

Who gives a shit? The little voice inside me whispers as I pick up her exhausted body and carry her toward her bedroom. I didn’t even notice before, but looking around, I can see the music posters adorning the walls. And next to her bed sits the pile of demo CDs she told me about earlier. You want her. She’s worth breaking the rules for.

“I’m going to have to go,” I whisper quietly as I stroke her angelic face. Roxy nods and gives me a hopeful smile. “I don’t think Mr. Felix is happy with me as it is.”

She smiles, looking at me with those same deep eyes. “Jake . . .”

“I know,” I whisper, kissing her softly. I’m so tempted to stay, but I have to go. It just isn’t the right time yet, and Sophie will probably wonder what the hell happened if I’m not there in the morning. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday,” she murmurs, dozing off. I watch her fall asleep, and I slowly make my way out to the living room, where I grab my shirt off the floor and shrug it back on. I let myself out quietly, a new thought coming to my mind.

Fuck any rules. I don’t care about any of that. All I’m thinking is that she’s got the talent, and she needs to rediscover her heart for it.

Roxy

I come awake with a gasp, my heart hammering in my chest. For an instant, I don’t know where I am. I reach for Jake, but I moan in disappointment when I realize he’s not here.

“It was just a dream,” I mutter. A dream in which Jake stayed the night, then served me breakfast in bed. Followed by the hottest morning cuddlefuck a girl could dream of.

“What’s the saying?” I yawn, stretching out my arms above my head and hearing my bones pop. “If it’s too good to be true then . . .” An ache runs down my side, bringing my mind back to last night.

I don’t know how long it was before Hannah came back in. She’d woken me up, but I dropped off again quickly.

I’ve never felt anything like what Jake and I did last night. It was amazing, the way his lips danced on my skin, the way electricity crackled from every touch. He was powerful, tender, demanding, and giving, all at the same time. I’ve never been driven so wild to demand that a guy fuck me. I blush as I remember telling him to fuck me.

“Those eyes,” I say to myself, lying back and putting my forearm over my eyes. “The way he touched me, the way he looked at me . . . he almost stopped my heart.”

There’s that nickname of his again, and as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Words and a tune start flowing through my head like a river.

I jump out of bed and grab a pen and notepad from my nightstand, scribbling down some lyrics as I hum the tune that’s running around in my head. It’s been a long time since I had the urge to write a song. I’ve always been more of a performer than a creator. But being with Jake seems to have inspired me.

“What are you doing?”

The words pierce my consciousness, and I let out a cry, my pen clattering to the table as I jump and look in the doorway. Hannah is staring at me, clearly hungover, with her hair in a disheveled blonde halo, looking like a crazy cave woman. “Jesus, Hannah, you scared the shit out of me. Ever heard of knocking?”

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be working with Mr. Rabbit,” she half jokes. She comes over and flops on my bed, throwing her arm over her eyes and groaning melodramatically. “Shoot me, would you? I have the worst headache.”

“So much for being the responsible one,” I tease, closing my notebook after picking up my pen. “Talking shit about me, and you look like you got fucking wasted.”

Hannah’s mouth pinches as she keeps her eyes covered. “I’m a grown ass woman. I can do what I want. But it won’t happen again . . .”

The door creaks open, and we both jump and let out bloodcurdling screams. Mr. Felix stops and peers curiously back and forth between us, padding into the room before hopping up on the bed, looking at us both like he’d like to give us a long lecture on duties to the boss . . . namely, him.

“Jesus.” We both laugh. “Can we get any jumpier?”

Hannah lies back on the bed, still shading her eyes. “So how did you get home last night?”

She knows damn well how I got home. That’s not what she’s asking. “Jake drove me home, remember?”

Hannah lifts her arm, peering at me suspiciously. “And that’s all that happened?”

I do my best to keep a straight face. “Yes, what did you think might happen?”

Hannah grins painfully. “I don’t know, maybe you screwed him and actually killed him this time with that hungry pussy of yours? Is his body in the closet?” She gets up off my bed and goes over, yanking the door open and taking a look. “Yoo-hoo! Jake? You in here?” she calls. “If you’re alive, tap your foot. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh, stop it!” I laugh. “He’s not here.” I grin, deciding to turn the tables on Hannah. “Speaking of getting hot and heavy, did you get down with Nathan?”

Hannah closes my closet, turning to look at me like I’m crazy. “You must be out of your damn mind. He’s cute and all, but he’s not my type.”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, unconvinced. “I don’t know, you were giving him a few looks like you were more than ready to ride his pony.”

Hannah growls. “I’m gonna kill you.” She starts toward the bed, then stops, nodding at my notebook. “What were you doing, anyway?”

“Writing a song.”

Hannah gawks in surprise. “A song? Now I know something’s really going on. It’s Jake, isn’t it? He’s got you seeing stars.”

“No,” I reply, even as I blush. I’m a terrible liar when it comes to Hannah.

“Come on, spill it. No teasing, no bullshit.”

I look at Hannah, who’s got her arms crossed, then roll my eyes. “Okay, maybe he is the reason, but singing at the club last night awakened something in me that I didn’t think was there anymore. Something I buried, and I want to find it again.”

I expect Hannah to laugh at me, to call me silly or something. Instead, she bites her lip then gives me a sad smile. “Okay, babe. If you need it, then I’ve got your back. Just . . .”

“What?”

Hannah sighs. “Don’t fall in love with Jake, okay? I could see it in your eyes, in the way you performed. You weren’t there for the crowd. You were cock teasing him and loving it. But more than that . . . I saw the way you looked at him. Just, be careful.”

“I am,” I reply, and Hannah sighs again. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ve got your back.”

I bite my lip. “I know.”

* * *

At work the following Monday, I try to avoid Jake whenever I can. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I want to see him. I want to talk to him. I want to be with him.

Even though I try not to, I find myself stealing glances at him when he’s in his office. As he talks, as he gestures, everything he does, he’s sexy. He commands the room like he owns it. His confidence is pure arousal, and I can’t help but rub my thighs together as I try to get work done.

Also, I can't get the song out of my head, and I find myself scribbling lyrics whenever Jake is around. Not all of them fit in this song, but there are some that do.

“Keeping a diary over there?” Matt asks out of the blue while I’m in the midst of trying to write the song instead of working.

“What’s it to you?” I growl, snapping the notebook closed.

“You keep looking off into space lately, scribbling in that book. Got someone on your mind?” He raises his eyebrows toward Jake’s office, and it unsettles me. I’m sure he’s just fishing. How the hell could he know anything?

“Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

Matt walks away, grumbling under his breath about moody bitches, and I’m pissed off. But more importantly, I’m wondering if he’s actually picked up on something. If he has, other people probably have also.

After lunch, I get up and go knock on Jake’s door. Elena’s still out at lunch, but Jake just came back from downstairs, and if I’m going to have any private moments with him, this is the time.

“Come in!”

I step inside, closing the door quietly behind me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, giving me a smile that makes the warmth between my legs rise to a deep burn. I do my best to reserve myself, but it’s hard. He looks so handsome with his tie loosened and his hair ruffled from a fresh shower. He just finished his lunchtime workout. Watching his biceps flex as he fixes his shirt and tie, I remember how his lips and hands felt all over my body. The tension is so thick, I want to run and jump into his arms, sweep the stuff off his desk, and have him take me right here on top of his blotter.

I blink, clearing my mind. I’m about to tell him that what happened in the elevator and later when we got down and dirty was a fluke, that it can’t happen again. Suddenly, he grins, holding up a hand. “Wait, I can see what’s in your eyes, and I’ll let you tell me, but first . . . I have a proposition for you.”

“What?” I ask, hoping and also not hoping it’s for me to get on my knees under his desk. Because I just might do it if he asks.

“Nathan’s been going gaga all weekend, and I have too. We want to put you as a drawing act. One night on the weekends. You said you love to sing. The pay would be good. Not better than here, but it’s only one night a week.”

I stand in shock. I hadn't expected something like this. Sexual? Sure. But to sing . . . “Oh, my God.”

“The people loved you. Nathan and I were shocked by how many people requested for you to come back. Seriously, you should see the club’s Facebook page. There’s over three hundred likes to someone requesting that you sing some more. They want you.”

His eyes gleam, seeming to say, And I want you too.

I breathe, still stunned. The tune of the song I’ve begun writing for him hums in my head. Staring at his face, I realize I can’t say no to him. I’m weak in the knees. But I also don’t know if I should say yes.

“Well?” he says, taking his seat behind his desk and giving me that same smile. “I know you want this.”

I stand there, leaning against his office door, uncertain. The fact is, music to me is like an addiction. It was so hard to walk away from it last time. I spent weeks unable to sleep on Fridays and Saturdays because those were my performance nights. I still wake up sometimes with a little voice inside me wondering where the stage is, where the crowds are.

If I do this, I don’t want that to happen again. Jake doesn’t know what he’s asking for. I’ll have to train again. Vocal exercises, getting my body back in shape to maintain the high energy performances that I have to do . . . wardrobe, practicing lyrics, all of it. How’s it going to affect my work?

I tried the club scene before, and it went nowhere but having one club love me. This can’t be much different. Sure, I’m excited right at this moment, and yeah, Club Jasmine loved me Friday night, but once people got used to me, it would die down. I’d be right back to being a local act and that’s it.

Still, maybe it’s enough. The idea of singing, of being on stage . . . even if it’s not my name selling out big shows, it feeds a piece of my heart. When I sing, I put my soul out there, vulnerable and excited to see if the audience will respond with cheers. And I can see Jake genuinely wants me to do it. Damn me, there’s a part of me that wants to please him, too. Finally, I take a deep breath and look into his expectant eyes.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jake

I hate the smell of cigar smoke. Sure, it’s got the whole alpha male mystique attached to it, but damn if most cigars don’t smell like burning dirty undershirts.

Tell that to Nathan, though. “We’re looking at recouping our investment and turning a working profit within six months,” Nathan says over a haze of his cigar smoke. Thank God we’re up here where nobody except security is allowed and the air conditioners can deal with his disgusting habit.

“Show me the money,” I say, sitting back and rubbing my hands in relief that this is going well. I was half-expecting for us to fall flat on our faces. I knew the market. So many clubs fail. But everything is turning out better than I dreamed.

“We’re killing it, Jake!” Nathan says, grinning while sipping on some champagne, “And with karaoke night being a success, I think we should adopt it regularly. By the way, did your girl say yes about doing weekends?”

My girl. The thought is strange, but I like the sound of it. After I tasted her, after I filled her up and carried her to bed, I know that Nathan’s right. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about her.

“She said she would think about it.” I don't point out that she isn’t my girl. She will be soon enough.

“Think about it?” Nathan asks, surprised. “Didn’t you say she was crazy about singing? What gives?”

I think back to what she told me and what I saw in her room. “She has some hang-ups. She’s been burned before. But I think she’ll come through.”

Nathan shakes his head and puffs some more cigar smoke toward the ceiling. “Shit, I hope so. Those people were in fucking love with her! She rocked that stage like nobody’s business. Shit, Beyoncé who? Selena what? Fuck that skank bitch Miley Cyrus. I’m telling you, man, Roxy should be a household name! One name too. She’s gonna be so big if you say Roxy, the whole fuckin’ world knows who we’re talkin’ about.”

I sit back, sipping my own champagne and chuckling to myself. It’s funny how Nathan went from calling her a sleazy broad to this. But I don’t blame him. Part of that is Nathan. He’s always been one to do a lot of shit talking until he really likes you. Most of it is Roxy, though. Her taking this gig will end up doing big things for her. I can just feel it.

I chuckle. “Brother, I totally agree. She is pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

Andre’s voice crackles over the small walkie Nathan carries. “Hey, I think that creepy dude is back at his shit.”

My heart jumps in my chest as we both leap to our feet, Nathan just a fraction of an inch faster in snatching the radio up. “Where?” Nathan almost yells.

Andre’s voice crackles back. “At the bar. Near the bathrooms. He’s wearing a fucking purple blazer. Can’t miss him.”

We both take off, Nathan running ahead of me, pumping his shorter legs as fast as they will allow. I’m behind him simply because I don’t want to send him tumbling down the stairs. It’s early still, and the club isn’t quite packed since it’s just a Thursday night. We reach the foot of the stairs and I reach out, grabbing Nathan’s shoulder. “Wait!”

“What?” he asks, turning. “Let’s go bust this motherfucker!”

“No doubt,” I reply, “but we need to make sure we don’t freak everyone out. Go chill, okay?”

Nathan takes a big breath but nods. “Fine, I’m chill. Now where is he so I can go unchill?”

We look, and I see him first at the bar, that loud blazer making him stand out. He’s pressuring some girl who’s saying no in heavily-accented English.

The game is up, though, when the girl’s eyes flicker over to Nathan and me in desperation and the guy turns. Seeing us, he takes off. Nathan flies through the crowd while I cut at an angle. He’s so busy looking behind him for Nathan that I barely have to do anything to grab his arm and spin him around, locking him in an armlock with my other hand grabbing the back of his horrendous jacket. “Shouldn’t have come back,” I say in a threatening tone.

“Let me go, man!” the guy whines, squirming in my grasp. “I didn’t do nothing!”

“You’re full of shit, you . . .” Nathan yells before he lowers his voice, getting up close to the guy as I start pulling him toward the door. “You’re fucking scum of the earth,” Nathan rasps.

Nathan leads the way to the side door as we drag the guy outside. I see John, one of the security guys, covering our back, which I’m glad for. The former Delta Force operative can make sure we don’t take things too far.

“Is this your thing, going around and drugging women in clubs?” Nathan demands as I hold onto the guy. “How many?”

The guy sputters, trying to play it innocent. “I didn’t drug nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying, asshole,” I rasp in his ear, jerking him around. “I drank one of your little spiked beers. So Nathan, what do we do to him?”

“You already know my answer. I say eye for a fuckin’ eye,” Nathan growls, cracking his knuckles. “He wants to drug and fuck women? I say we make him a bitch.”

Nathan’s threat makes the man struggle wildly, and he jerks his head back, catching me on the lip. I feel my lip split, and I grunt in pain as I pull my head back, loosening my grip just enough that the guy breaks free.

He takes off, trying to make a run for it, but Nathan’s quick for his size and tackles him around the knees, taking him down to the ground. Before Nathan can move, though, the guy kicks Nathan in the shoulder and tries to get up before my flying bodyweight drives him onto his back on the concrete.

I pop him once in the face, his head rocking back and hitting the concrete. I rear back again, but Nathan grabs me, pulling me off.

“He’s done, man!” he says. “His head went down pretty hard. You keep going and you’ll be talking with the cops.”

He’s right. Adrenaline just kind of took over. “John, call the cops,” I say.

“Just a second,” Nathan says, turning and punting the guy as hard as he can in the ass. He howls in pain, and I gotta believe that a size eight pointy wing tip up your ass has to hurt. “Get this fucking piece of shit outta here!”

After the cops come by, we go back in the club, where we’re both treated to a standing ovation and cheer from the patrons—the story’s spread that fast. “See, brother?” Nathan says, patting me on the back. “Take out the trash, and the people love you!”

It’s just after midnight when I walk into my apartment. I know I look like hell. I’m wearing another torn shirt, and I’ve got a bruised hand to go with my busted lip. Icing it helped some, but I’m going to look strange in the office tomorrow.

As I step into the living room, I surprise Sophie, who quickly flips her tablet face down on the sofa. “Jake,” she says, jumping up, her eyes looking furtive and nervous. “I didn’t know you’d be back so early.”

I’m sure I just caught her doing something, but my brain is too overloaded to consider what it could have been. “It’s after midnight, Soph. What were you doing?”

Sophie’s guilty look makes me more curious as she shifts from side to side. “I was just watching this gross video. You know, girl stuff, disgusting, really. You wouldn’t wanna see it.”

I can tell she’s lying, but I’m too exhausted and emotionally drained to push the issue. Instead, I remind myself to keep a closer eye on her. “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow.”

Sophie squints her eyes, peering at me. “Jake, your lip . . . what the hell happened to you?”

I shrug, not wanting to go into it. “Just some club business. Roughed up some douche.”

“What the fuck?” Sophie asks, shocked. “Jake, you got into a fight?”

I shake my head. “Remember when I said I got drugged? Same asshole came in tonight, trying the same angle on some girl.”

Sophie grins, going into the kitchen to return with a popsicle, which she hands to me. “Glad you got him.”

I take the frozen treat gratefully. “I am, too. We already called the police, and the girl he’d been stalking tonight gave a statement. His ass is going down for a while.”

I put the popsicle against my lip, sitting down on the couch. I pat the spot beside me, saying nothing when Sophie moves her tablet out of the way. She sits, curling her leg underneath her, and I give her a lopsided smile. “So what’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, you know, just school work, the usual,” Sophie says. “Oh, I got a B on that test you were hyping me on.”

“Did you? That’s great,” I reply, feeling a little bit bad. I haven’t been able to spend as much time with Sophie as I’d like. I’ve been so busy with the club, and when I have been home, I’ve been distracted so often by thoughts of Roxy. “And you’re getting along well?”

“It’s okay, really. I mean, I’ve been thinking of joining the track team, so I’ve been able to get along, make some new friends.”

Track, huh? That is new for Sophie. “Well, I want you to know that I love you and as soon as I get a hole in my schedule, we’re gonna do something special.”

That makes Sophie grin, and she gives me a hug. “Oh, thank you, Jake! You know, I was really hoping you could take me to—”

Before she can answer, there’s a buzz on my phone. “One sec,” I say, holding up finger. I pull out my phone to see a text from Roxy.”

Fuck it. I’m in. Next week?

“What’s that?” Sophie asks curiously.

I shake my head. I knew she couldn’t resist. I’ll get that spark to ignite in her if that’s the last thing I do. I quickly hit reply.

I knew you’d pull thru. Incidentally, we caught that creep. He won't be spiking anymore drinks. Talk details tomorrow at the club, nine thirty.

Buzz.

Thank God. I owe u 1. 9:30 OK.

“Jake?”

“Just some club business,” I half-lie to Sophie, sitting back and relaxing on the couch with a satisfied sigh. I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Now, where were you saying you wanted to go? I’m thinking Sunday would be a great time for some ‘us’ time.”