ELIJAH

She has a smart mouth, this one.

She’d looked so innocent walking down that carpet toward my office. I’d watched her on the security app that was attached to my computer, watched her in that tight little black dress, the material straining over her full breasts.

Her hair was pulled back from her face, her lips plump and wanting, slicked with a pale pink gloss that added to her overall look of vulnerability. For some reason I’d gotten up from my desk and walked to the door to meet her, something I never do.

And now here she is, sitting in right in front of me, talking back already.

Dark thoughts invade my mind, thoughts of taking her over my knee, pushing up the back of her dress. I imagine her in a lacey little thong, her ass cheeks round and ripe, waiting for my palm.

“Are they?” she demands, apparently deciding to double down on her disobedience. “Are all the lines that have faltering sales going to be closed?”

“No.” My voice is a growl.

“Then why are you closing mine? Is it because it’s romance?” She levels me with a glance that’s half accusing, half worried she’s gone too far.

I decide not to justify this allegation with a response.

“The market is shifting, Ms. Bennett. The cultural zeitgeist is changing. Women are looking for their romance to be a little more…mature.” I lean forward and pick up a thin manila folder that’s sitting on the desk in front of me. I slide it over to her, watch as she opens it and pulls out the paper that shows the research the marketing department has done.

“This says women are moving more toward steamy romance, away from chick-lit and sweet romance,” she practically scoffs, rolling her eyes. My palm itches. “This means nothing.” She pushes the folder back to me. “It’s a normal shift in the market, based on the success of that book, For Him. It was an erotic romance, so now people are looking for more of that.” She shrugs, meeting my eye again. “It’s like how everyone wanted vampires after Stephenie Meyer wrote Twilight. The market will shift back. And when we they do, we’ll be ready.”

“You think it’s a good business move to wait for the market to switch back?”

“I think it’s a good business move to stay true to what women always want.”

“Which is?”

“Love,” she says. “Not sex.”

I smile and steeple my fingers together. “Is that a personal opinion? Because the research here shows otherwise.”

Color blooms on her face, her cheeks warming. I have a feeling that under that dress, her heart is beating fast.

“That is my opinion, yes.”

“So then I’d venture to say that you’ve never been fucked until you screamed.” As I speak, my eyes run up her body, over those luscious curves and back to those full, pink lips.

“That is none of your business.”

“Perhaps.” My cock is filled with blood, pressing uncomfortably against my fly, and I sit up and shift in my seat. “But all I care about is this company. And the research is saying that the market is shifting. I don’t believe this is a shift because of one book. Women want sex.”

She snorts. “Of course you’re going to say that, even though you have a woman sitting right in front of you, telling you you’re wrong.”

“One woman. Who, apparently, is quite, ah, inexperienced when it comes to what I’m talking about.”

She stays quiet, but I can tell she’s seething, can tell by the way her hands fidget in her lap, taking the material of her dress and twisting it. I imagine her doing the same thing to the sheets on my bed as I plow into her from behind, her ass bouncing.

Fire her.

That’s what I brought her in here to do.

Her line is shuttering. Her and all the other editors who work on Sweet Kisses need to be let go.

There is no job here for her.

And the way I’m reacting to her? It’s dangerous. I’d never reacted to anyone like that in my life, and the fact that she works here…

A shot of something as close as I could get to fear pulses through me.

Fire her.

Instead, I lean over the desk. “Ms. Bennett,” I say. “The reason I brought you in here was to offer you the job of executive editor of Ravish, our new erotic romance line.”

Her lips part in surprise, and she opens and then clamps her mouth shut. Her eyes harden in determination, and she waits for a long beat, choosing her words carefully. “With all due respect, Mr. Armstrong, the Sweet Kisses line has historically been one of the most successful at Armstrong Media. I’m confident that I’ll be able to turn our sales around. I would respectfully ask that you give us another quarter, and reevaluate our numbers at that time.”

“You feel that strongly? That women don’t want sex?”

“I think they want love,” she said. “And sex is just the cherry on top of the sundae.”

“Not the way I do it.” I smirk, enjoying the warm blush that starts on her cheeks and slides down to her deep cleavage. “Fine.” I snap the file folder shut. “I’ll keep Sweet Kisses for now. And I will put someone else in charge of the Ravish line.”

“Thank you.” I see the look in her blue eyes. She’s confident. Confident that this Ravish line isn’t going to amount to anything, that’ll it’s a trend that will flame out.

“But if your numbers aren’t better, Ms. Bennett, I will cut Sweet Kisses. And there will be no job for you here at Armstrong Media.”

“I understand.” She meets my eye, still confident in her decision.

Jesus, she’s gorgeous.

Can she really believe the bullshit she’s spewing, though? Can it be possible that she’s never had the kind of sex I’m talking about? How old is she, anyway?

I glance at her HR record, which I’d pulled up on my computer before she got here.

According to this, she’s twenty-three.

Twenty-three and the head of a romance line already.

She must be smart as a whip.

Whip. My cock pulses.

“I won’t disappoint you, Mr. Armstrong.”

She stands up and walks toward the door, giving me a perfect view of that delicious ass.

“Wait.”

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Are you sure about this?” I demand.

It’s an out for her, but it’s also an out for me.

“I’m absolutely positive.”

She walks out of my office, and as soon as she does, I pick up the phone. “Get me everything you can on an Abigail Bennett.”

If I’m going to fuck everything up, I should at least know what I’m getting myself into.