The Wrong Brother

Monica Murphy
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Also by Monica Murphy
About the Author
Chapter One
Grant

There’s a woman in my bed.

I scratch my jaw, contemplating the small lump lying
under my covers. I’m exhausted after a brutal day at work,
and this is the last thing I expected.
Though I’m not necessarily surprised.
The curtains were left open, the lights of the city
skyscape shining into my bedroom, but it’s not enough
light that I’m able to make out the color of her hair. Is she
blonde?
I prefer blondes. The brighter, the better. With a tiny
waist and giant tits. Real or fake, it doesn’t matter to me.
Long legs that wind around my hips as I drive my cock
inside her, soft moans falling from her lush lips. Though my
ultimate preference is that she doesn’t speak at all. She
just shuts up and takes it.
Slowly I shrug out of my jacket, dropping it onto a
nearby chair. Loosen the tie at my neck and unfasten the
top buttons of my shirt. Undo the cuff links at my wrist,
settling them into a small dish with a gentle clink.
She doesn’t stir.
Fuck, is she dead?
I consider turning on the light but decide against it. This
sort of thing has happened before. Unfamiliar women
appearing in my bed isn’t that unusual. A gifted fuck from
my brother, my best friend, a business associate.
We deal in real estate. Buy and sale and trade. And
sometimes, we do the same with women.
 They’re easy to find, and always willing, with sweet
words and soft touches and generous mouths. A skilled
seductress whose number one goal is making a man feel
good.
Making a man come.
I’m sure this is her sole purpose this evening. I’ve been
stressed the fuck out for what feels like most of my adult
life and this past month has been particularly bad.
Important deals have fallen through—not that I want to go
into the details, even in my thoughts.
Especially my thoughts.
This is the perfect distraction. Losing myself in a
woman.
Eagerness makes me shed my clothes quicker, until I’m
completely naked. I walk to my side of the bed and
carefully pull the covers back, then just as carefully crawl
beneath them. The Egyptian cotton is smooth and cool on
my heated skin and I roll over on my side, facing her.
Stretching my hand out, I gently push the hair—it’s not
blonde—away from her face, careful not to touch her too
firmly.
I don’t want to disturb the sexy little bundle. Not yet.
She moves, a little sigh escaping her, and the sound
goes straight to my dick, making me hard. I reach for her,
my fingers brushing her bare arm and another sound
leaves her.
“Oh.”
I pause in my movements, waiting for her to wake up.
To acknowledge me. But she must be only half awake,
because other than that whispered word, she remains
quiet.
She doesn’t even move again.
This one must be from my brother. I can imagine Finn
giving a list of instructions and expectations on what he
wants the woman to do. He’s just as particular as me,
maybe even more so.
Shifting closer, I settle my hand on the woman’s hip,
touching bare, smooth skin. Then, I slip my thumb under
the thin waistband of her skimpy panties, lightly caressing
her.
She still doesn’t move.
I drift my fingers up, slow and steady. Along her flat
stomach, her ribs, until I encounter her breasts.
They’re smallish. Barely a handful. Just enough for me
to cup in each palm, holding her as I slowly sweep my
thumbs over her nipples.
Huh. That’s odd.
A soft moan leaves her, and she arches into my hands.
I squeeze her flesh again, my thumbs circling, gradually
increasing my speed around the hard little peaks just
begging for my mouth.
“Please,” she whispers, her sweet voice rippling across
my skin, making my temperature rise.
“Please what?” I ask, my voice coming out rougher
than I planned.
She’s quiet, just as I like them. Just as I always
request.
But for some reason, tonight I want to hear this one
beg.
“Tell me,” I demand, removing my hands from her body.
She whimpers as she rolls across the bed, until her
warm, bare skin wraps all around me. “I want you.”
“What part of me?”
I want to hear her beg for my cock, but there’s
hesitation. Perhaps she’s not that experienced? Usually
they eagerly ask for what they want.
My brother would never send me an inexperienced
woman, though. I’m not one for gentle words and soft
touches. For taking it slow.
Absolutely not.
Romance is for pussies.
“Any part I can get,” she admits.
The sweet sound of her voice is like a hit of the most
intoxicating drug. My entire body breaks into a sweat and I
push the comforter off, exposing her.
Exposing both of us.
It’s still too dark to make out her features, even with the
light coming in from outside, but I can see she has long,
dark hair. Those smallish tits. A tiny waist and flaring hips.
The only thing she’s wearing is a pair of the skimpiest
panties I’ve ever seen in my life.
And I’ve seen a lot of panties in my time.
“Let’s take these off,” I growl, reaching for the flimsy
waistband, tugging until the fabric cuts into her flesh. I feel
the give, the sound of fabric ripping hits the air and I yank
on them, ripping the panties right off her body.
A gasp leaves her and I bring the thin fabric to my face,
holding it up to my nose. I inhale the delectable, musky
scent of her cunt, my mouth watering for a taste of her.
Not yet though. She needs to earn it first.
I grab her silky hair, pulling just hard enough to sting,
and she hisses out a breath, completely frozen.
“Get on the floor and suck me,” I tell her, thrusting my
face in hers.
Her breath comes out in accelerated pants, her eyes
wide. I stare at her, contemplating her familiar features.
Do I know this woman?
Once I let go of her hair, she does as I command,
readjusting herself so she’s on the floor, on her knees. I
spread my legs wide, and she scoots closer until she’s in
between my thighs. When she leans forward, her small tits
sway, her hard nipples tempting me.
 I grit my teeth, my gaze going to her face, but her head
is bent down. All I see is the sweep of her dark eyelashes,
the elegant tilt of her nose. She grabs hold of the base of
my cock, her fingers firm as they wrap around me, and she
presses her mouth onto the head, pausing for a moment.
My heart thunders in my chest, my entire body tense as
I wait to see what she does next. She completely envelops
the tip with her mouth, her tongue lightly teasing, tracing
the slit.
Fuck.
“Harder.” A grunt leaves me when she does exactly
that, exerting more pressure on my dick with her mouth,
her fingers clasping tight around the shaft. She sucks and
licks, alternating between the two, and I sweep the hair
away from her face, holding it back so I can watch.
She doesn’t look at me, too focused on my cock, and
the sight of her lush lips wrapped right around me makes
everything inside me clench up. She cups my balls with
her free hand, massaging them, and I exhale roughly.
Lifting my hips, I thrust forward, fucking her mouth. Her
hands drop away from my body as I push in between her
lips again and again, increasing my speed while she
increases her suction.
Frustration zips through my veins, and I exhale roughly,
mentally telling myself to calm down. I don’t want to come
yet.
Slow the fuck down.
But her mouth is like a weapon, fucking with my head—
both heads. A tingly sensation starts at the base of my
spine, slowly creeping into my balls, and I know I’m going
to come.
But I don’t want to yet.
I push her off me, her lips releasing my cock with a loud
pop, and I rise to my feet, hovering above her as I furiously
jack myself off.
“Going to come on your face,” I tell her between ragged
breaths, wanting to see her features.
Wanting to know who this sexy little goddess might be.
A pained sound leaves her, and she averts her head,
her hair completely covering her face, fucking with my
plan.
It’s too late. It’s coming…I’m coming.
At the last second, I change my aim and let go all over
her chest, my cum splattering her tits, dripping in the valley
between them. She’s breathing hard, as if she’s the one
who just came, and my semen runs across her upper
body.
A work of fucking art.
As I come down from my orgasm, I reach out, tracing
my fingers through my own cum. Rubbing it into her skin.
Toying with her nipples with my fingertips until they’re
covered in cum and glistening.
I scoop up a healthy wad and press my cum-coated
fingers against her lush mouth. “Open up.”
She turns to face me and parts her lips, sucking on my
fingers hard, a soft, husky “mmm” sound coming from her
throat. I curl my fingers, clamping them against her lower
lip, and her eyes fly open. Wide. Unblinking.
Dark brown.
Yeah. Very fucking familiar.
Ignoring the warning bells sounding in my head, I
remove my fingers from her mouth and thrust my face in
hers, staring at her, taking her in.
No way is this her.
My mind is playing tricks on me. That’s the only
reasonable answer.
I bend down and kiss her to see what she does, and
instead of pushing me away, she rises up on her knees
and pulls me closer. Her slender arms wind around my
neck, her fingers sinking into my hair as our tongues war
with each other.
A groan leaves me and the next thing I know, we’re
back on the bed, the woman lying beneath me. She parts
her legs, my body sinking closer to hers and just like that,
my dick roars back to life, hard and eager to slide inside
her.
I cannot slide inside this woman.
No.
She winds one of those long legs around me, the heel
of her foot pressing against my ass. I break away from her
eager mouth and slide downward, kissing her neck. Her
collarbone. Her chest. Her tits.
I gather her breasts in my hands, pressing them close
together, her nipples hard and begging for my mouth. I
suck on one, tasting the salty essence of my cum and she
writhes beneath me, her fingers gripping my hair.
She’s so responsive. Eager. Loud. She whimpers and
moans, and when I bite her left nipple, she cries out as if I
hurt her.
I want to hurt her again.
I pull the other nipple, tugging on it with my teeth, and
she moans. I lave the tender flesh with my tongue, trying to
ease the sting. Desperate to make her cry out again.
“Grant.” She groans my name and I go still, my eyes
popping open as I stare up at her beautiful face.
She doesn’t even realize that I’m looking at her, too lost
in the sensations I’m making her feel. I let my hand drift
downward, along her side, fingers streaking across her
stomach until they’re sinking in between her thighs,
stroking her.
She’s wet. Soaked.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she lifts her hips,
wanting more.
I want to give her more, even though this is really
fucked up.
I know who she is. The little bitch tricked me.
And I fell for it.
Fell for her.
We can’t do this. It’s wrong. But she doesn’t stop me
and I wonder if I’m in the middle of a fever dream. No way
can this moment be real.
Removing my hand, I slip my cock inside of her
welcoming body and it’s like coming home. I begin to move
within her and she shifts beneath me, her rhythm matching
mine, her moans getting louder and louder with my every
thrust. Until my speed is so fucking fast our skin slaps
against each other and I’m dripping with sweat. My mouth
finds hers again, our tongues dancing, her hands settling
on my ass as she grips me tightly.
Fuck.
I come with a shout, filling her with my seed, not even
remotely concerned with the fact that I’m fucking my
brother’s assistant because no way is this actually
happening. I’m going with this being a dream, because
never in a million years would this woman hide away in my
bed, naked and waiting for me.
She hates me.
I hate her.
But fuck. Her pussy is like a goddamn dream.
And I can’t stop fucking it.
Chapter Two
Grant

I’m awakened by the sound of a ringing phone.

Cracking an eye open, I glance toward the nightstand
to see it’s my phone that’s ringing.
And it’s my brother calling me.
I scrub my hand across my face, over the bristly
stubble covering my cheeks, and I roll over on my side,
away from the nightstand.
To find a sleeping, naked woman lying beside me, her
bare back on complete display. The sheet is draped across
her lower body, but I can see the crack of her ass and fuck,
I’m tempted to touch it.
Claim it.
Taking a deep breath, I stare at the dark waves
tumbling down her back. Her narrow shoulders. I reach
out, grabbing one shoulder and pulling her into position, so
she’s lying flat on her back, her eyes flying open and
staring into mine.
Fuck.
“Fuck!” I jump out of bed, not caring that I’m naked, that
she can see me.
She sits up and bends her knees, pulling them forward
and wrapping her arms around them as she contemplates
me. She doesn’t look disturbed. In fact, she’s downright
calm, and I run my hand over my face one more time,
closing my eyes for the briefest moment before I pop them
back open.
Nope. She’s still sitting there. Freshly fucked, thanks to
me.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” My voice is
icily calm, which should scare the absolute shit out of her.
She doesn’t even flinch.
“You weren’t protesting last night when I had my lips
wrapped around your cock,” she says matter-of-factly.
My cock twitches, but I ignore it.
“I didn’t know who you were last night.”
“Oh, come on. You knew.” She releases her knees and
kicks the sheet off of her, putting her naked body on full
display.
Goddamnit, she’s gorgeous. My cock is more than
twitching now. It’s fully hard and eager to be inside her.
“I didn’t.”
“You stared right into my eyes as you entered me,
Grant.” Her voice is steady, her chin tilted upward, giving
her a defiant look. “You knew who you were fucking.”
I blink at her. “I thought it was a dream.”
A soft laugh leaves her as she goes onto all fours and
crawls across the mattress, stopping directly in front of me,
my cock in her face. “Best dream you ever had, right?”
She grabs hold of me and I take the smallest step, until
the head of my cock nudges against her lips. She parts
them with a moan and I push inside, then pull back out. In
and out, until I’m fucking her mouth just as I did last night,
and she’s sucking and licking my dick like I’m the best
damn treat she’s ever had.
I shouldn’t do this. But it’s like I can’t stop. I see her
every day I’m in the office, sitting outside of Finn’s door at
her desk, typing away at the keyboard with her hair up and
glasses on her face.
Not looking a thing like the sex goddess who’s currently
sucking my dick.
She pulls away, her lips swollen and wet, her eyes
narrowed as she watches me. “You had to know this
wasn’t a dream.”
I remain quiet, trying to fight the shame that wants to
wash over me.
“You wanted it just as bad as I did,” she continues.
Swallowing hard, I don’t answer her.
“And now you’re worried I might…I don’t know. File a
sexual harassment claim?” A single, delicate brow shoots
up.
Her words make me fucking sweat, though my dick
doesn’t deflate.
The fucking traitor.
“Don’t worry. Like I said, I wanted it as bad as you did.”
She rises to her feet, so she’s standing in front of me.
She’s short and slender, a tumble of dark hair spilling over
one shoulder, her brown eyes hot as they lift to mine. “You
look like you swallowed your tongue.”
My eyes narrow. “Not quite. You just—”
“Surprised you?”
She’s got a lot of nerve, interrupting me. I wrap my
arms around her upper arm, holding her firmly. “You’re
ballsy.”
“Another surprise, I’m sure.” Her smile is confident.
This woman is definitely unexpected. I never really
noticed her beyond being my brother’s assistant, who
guarded his door like a rabid dog, which I found fucking
annoying. Finn complimented her abilities when I
complained about her that one time, calling her efficient
and claiming he couldn’t manage without her.
I called him out for being too dependent on a woman
and he just laughed at me, the prick.
Releasing my hold on her, I glance around the room.
“You should find your clothes and leave.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
 “You weren’t invited in the first place.”
Her mouth sets in a hard line as she contemplates me.
“I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t think you’d be this
bad.”
“See what happens when you sneak into my bed
without asking?” The moment I spot the hurt flare in her
gaze, I regret the words I just said.
She’s right. I’m as mean as a snake, but she knew this.
Everyone knows this.
I’m a Lancaster. It’s in our blood. We can’t help
ourselves.
“You’re a dick.” Lifting her chin, she marches right past
me, going to the chair in the farthest corner of my room
and grabbing a black trench coat. “Go ahead and deny it
all you want, but you enjoyed last night. You were enjoying
this morning too, until you had to go and open your mouth
and ruin everything.”
I watch as she slips the coat on over her naked form,
doing the buttons up and wrapping the matching belt tight
around her slender waist. She slips on a pair of black
stiletto pumps that increase her height considerably, then
runs a hand through her long hair, trying to smooth it out.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. Standing in my bedroom wearing
a trench coat and a sexy pair of shoes, her dark eyes
blazing with fury when they land on me.
“You really have nothing to say?”
I shrug. “Better to keep quiet, considering my mouth
ruins everything.”
Her eyes narrow, and she stomps her way over to me,
thrusting a finger in my face. “I don’t like you.”
I settle a hand on her waist, pulling her into me so
quickly, she gasps. “You weren’t saying that when I fucked
you last night and you were coming all over my cock.”
She’s breathing hard, her chest rising and falling
rapidly, brushing against my naked chest. Just having her
this close sets my body on edge, my cock responding by
growing hard all over again.
“You’re horrible.”
“You like it.” Leaning down, I brush my mouth against
hers, fighting the spark that lights up between our lips.
“See you at the office later?”
She wrenches herself out of my grip. “Fuck you,” she
yells as she marches out of my bedroom.
My laughter follows her all the way out of the room.
Chapter Three
Alyssa

I’m typing furiously, my concentration focused solely on the

report I’m working on for my boss, Finn Lancaster.
Desperately trying to keep my mind on work and not on the
insufferable man I had sex with last night.
Grant Lancaster. Finn’s older brother, the eldest of
Reginald Lancaster’s children. The two brothers went into
business together years ago, starting their own real estate
firm after each of them came into land holdings, thanks to
their trust funds. Of course, with their connections and the
family name, their business became lucrative almost
immediately.
I did my research, and I knew they were the ones I
wanted to work for.
Ah, to be so rich. I have no idea what that’s like, but I
have aspirations—don’t we all? I come from a middle-class
family. Grew up in Brooklyn. Worked hard on erasing the
accent from my voice, curated my wardrobe with a mix of
basics that look good no matter how much you spend and
only splurged on classic pieces that I found at designer
sample sales.
I wanted to look a certain part by the time an entry-level
spot opened up at Lancaster and Lancaster. I applied for
the greeter job and was hired practically on the spot, taking
on the position as the first person anyone makes contact
with upon entering the building.
I worked my way up the ranks, and within eighteen
months, I became Finn’s assistant, a position I’ve held for
over a year. I make excellent money, get a hefty bonus
every quarter and have all the perks of being employed by
one of the richest families in the country, if not the world.
But Finn is not endgame. I enjoy working for him. He’s
respectful and no nonsense. I do exactly as he says and
he appreciates my work ethic. I’m currently taking courses
to become a real estate agent, and Finn encourages my
endeavors. Says he will hire me the moment I get my
license.
We get along well, Finn and me.
His older brother? That’s a different story. Grant is a
complete asshole.
Sexy as hell, with the Lancaster trademark golden
brown hair and icy blue eyes. The stern yet lush mouth,
the firm jaw and aristocratic nose. He always has this faint
look of disgust on his face that I somehow find endlessly
appealing, despite how his rude demeanor and curt
responses also make me incredibly angry.
Grant Lancaster has no qualms barging into his
younger brother’s office or demanding to speak with Finn
when I answer the phone. He’s never polite. Never outright
mean, but certainly not warm and friendly either.
Far from it.
For whatever reason, I find his attitude…arousing.
Maybe something’s wrong with me. Maybe I have issues,
but whatever they are, I’m highly attuned to every single
shitty word that comes out of Grant Lancaster’s mouth.
And I enjoy being snotty toward him too.
When Finn came to me yesterday with his rather
unusual request, I know I gave him a shocked look. His
expression turned sheepish as he explained himself.
“It’s something we’ve always done,” he said, barely
able to look me in the eye as he handed over the slip of
paper with the phone number written on it. He was on his
way out of the office for the rest of the day and incredibly
busy. I knew this. I’m the one who keeps track of his hectic
schedule. “Make the request. Mention my name and say
it’s for Grant. They know his preferences and they’ll send a
woman to his apartment tonight.”
I did my very best not to gape at Finn. He was ordering
a woman for his brother. A call girl. Prostitute. Whatever
you wanted to call her, that’s what she was.
I’m not completely innocent. I know these sorts of
things happen, but I’ve never been given the duty to make
such a request before.
The moment Finn was gone, I crumpled that piece of
paper in my hand and tossed it in the trash. Then I set my
plan into motion.
I would be the one waiting for Grant in his bed. Not
some expensive lady of the night or whatever.
Sheesh, I sound like my grandmother.
I’ve been drawn to Grant Lancaster since the moment I
started working here. Despite the rude way he treated me,
his snappy comebacks and bossy attitude. The man
bleeds confidence, and I find it incredibly attractive.
Sexy.
I’m staring so hard at the computer screen, I don’t
realize someone has entered the vicinity until I hear the
light clearing of someone’s throat.
A male someone.
His scent, the smell of his cologne, enables me to know
who it is before I even look up at him.
Rich. Spicy. Mysterious.
Freaking Grant Lancaster.
I barely glance at him. “He’s not in the office at the
moment.”
I don’t bother explaining where Finn is either.
“I’m not here to see my brother,” Grant responds, his
deep, gravelly voice setting every one of my nerve endings
on fire.
Going completely still, I chance a look at him. He’s
dressed in a black three-piece suit. White shirt beneath.
Black tie. His hair is slicked back, not a strand out of place,
and his face is clean shaven. Not a stray whisker
anywhere. He’s tall and imposing and I can feel his stare
on my face, heating my skin.
The memories of our time together come racing back,
the longer we watch each other. It had been an honor and
a goddamn privilege to have this man’s cock in my mouth.
He knew what he was doing with it. The rough things he
said to me. The way he took complete control over the
situation, just as I knew he would. Telling me what to do.
Losing total control when I gave him the blow job—that
had been a complete surprise. Fucking me so thoroughly,
the orgasm he gave me had felt like a gift.
I’m still a little giddy over it, if I’m being honest with
myself.
“What do you want?” I ask when he still hasn’t said
anything.
He slowly approaches my desk, his gaze never straying
from mine. “I want to apologize.”
Shock courses through me. “For what?”
“For the way I spoke to you earlier.” He pauses, tearing
his gaze from mine to stare at Finn’s closed office door. “It
was—rude.”
Well, well. Mr. Rude admitting his faults. I’m pleasantly
surprised.
“I accept your apology,” I tell him.
He inclines his head toward me before turning on his
heel and walking away without another word.
I watch him go, admiring the straight line of his broad
shoulders. The perfect cut of his expensive suit. I think of
the commanding way he touched me. The way he looked
standing naked in his bedroom as he stared at me in shock
when he realized who he was with last night.
As if he didn’t know.
Did he really not know?
Without thinking, I toss my glasses onto my desk, rise
onto my feet and follow after him, relief flooding me when I
find him standing in front of the elevator, waiting. He’s
glancing at his phone, his brows furrowed, a frown on his
handsome face, and when he glances up to see me
standing in front of him, his frown deepens.
“Miss Ramirez—”
It’s him calling me “Miss” that does it for me.
I march right up to him, wrap my fingers around his tie
and give it a firm yank, his mouth somehow finding mine
almost instantly.
He groans against my seeking lips and I take my
advantage, sliding my tongue into his mouth. Somehow, he
pockets his phone and wraps his arms around my waist,
hauling me to him, and when the ding of the elevator
sounds, we don’t even acknowledge it.
No one exits the car. I’m fairly certain the elevator was
empty, but it doesn’t matter now. The telltale swoosh of the
doors closing indicates he missed his chance, but he
doesn’t seem to mind.
Grant is too busy devouring me.
And I’m letting him. I don’t want him to stop.
Ever.
Chapter Four
Grant

What the fuck am I doing?

Finn’s assistant wraps herself around me and I let her.
Hell, I encouraged her by pulling her into me. She grabs
hold of my tie like she owns me and I fall into her lips like it
was an accident. The moment our mouths touch, it’s as if I
can’t get enough of her. She consumes me just as eagerly
as I consume her.
Fuck me, this is wrong. I don’t get involved with
employees. That is rule number one. Rule number two? I
don’t get involved with anyone. I keep my relationships
very casual. To the point that they don’t exist. I’ve
witnessed my parents’ relationship, and that hellish
arrangement is enough to remind me that I don’t need
anything like that in my life.
Rule number three: I don’t like brunettes. Never have. I
prefer blonde bimbos, as my youngest brother Crew calls
them. And he’s right. The blonder the better. The bigger
the tits? The more I can grab. And if she’s not much of a
conversationalist? That’s fine. She’ll be too busy sucking
my dick to talk anyway.
What is it then, about this skinny, semi-flat chested
brunette who has me acting the fool? So she has a great
mouth, so what? I’ve been sucked off by plenty of women.
I can easily find someone else who can give me an epic
blow job.
I sound like a callous asshole in my thoughts. And
that’s because I am a callous asshole. This woman
deserves more than that. I find her annoying and a
complete nuisance most of the time, but my brother thinks
very highly of her. Claims she’s the best damn assistant
he’s ever had—direct quote.
Meaning I shouldn’t do this. If Finn finds out I fucked his
assistant, he’ll probably let her go to protect her from me
and then curse me out for ruining a good thing. He’d be
right, too. Being with Alyssa intimately is bad for her future
employment at our office.
Meaning, she’ll be let go. I can’t have a woman I fucked
working for us. That could end in potential disaster for all of
us, and that’s a risk I don’t want to take.
Breaking the kiss first, I stare down at her, my breaths
coming fast. Nearly as fast as hers. Her fingers are still
curled around the end of my tie until she slowly lets go of
it, smoothing the end of it with her fingertips, her touch
burning me despite the layers of clothing I’m wearing.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I say, my voice stern.
She nods. Swallows once. “I agree.”
“Anyone could’ve seen us.” I wave a hand at the
elevator, realizing, belatedly, that I missed it when it
stopped on this floor. For all I know, someone has already
spotted us kissing furiously in front of the goddamn
elevator.
“You’re right.” Her expression is solemn. Even a little
contrite. She takes a step backward, my arms falling away
from her, and I watch as she continues backing away, until
there’s enough distance between us that I shouldn’t be
tempted to reach for her again.
Yet I am.
I should walk away and pretend this never happened.
Avoid her for as long as possible. Until I can’t remember
the sounds she makes when I thrust inside her body, or the
way she looks when she’s kneeling before me with my
cock in her mouth.
The moment I forget about that—forget about her—
then I can move on. Perhaps we could banish her to
another part of the building for a while. Temporarily. I hate
for her to lose her job. That wouldn’t be fair—and would
open us up to a lawsuit for unlawful firing, of which she’d
totally have a case.
Can’t risk it.
“We need to talk though,” I find myself saying, unable
to stop the words from leaving my mouth. “Tonight. At
dinner?”
Her lips drop open as if I shocked her. “Are you asking
me to dinner?”
“A business meeting,” I correct, not wanting her to get
the wrong idea. “To discuss next steps.”
“Next steps for what?” she asks warily.
“You’ll see.” I smile at her, but it’s like a baring of teeth,
as if I’m a feral dog. I snap my lips shut. “I’ll text you the
details.”
“You have my phone number?” she asks, sounding
surprised.
“Alyssa.” I let her name linger on my tongue. Then think
of how it might sound when I growl it in her ear just as I
thrust deep inside her. “I know plenty of things. Including
your phone number.”
Before I can say—or do—something worse, I leave her
where she stands, heading for the stairwell.
The walk up eight flights will be a bitch, especially with
a hard on, but maybe it’ll help clear my Alyssa-fogged
head.
Chapter Five
Alyssa

I left work early thanks to Finn not being in the office. I sent
him a quick text, asking if I could take off at four, and he
told me I could leave earlier if I wanted. He trusts me that
much. Values me that much.
And now I’ve gone and had sex with his brother.
What in the world is wrong with me?
Worry gnaws at my gut as I stroll through the
department store, wandering through the endless racks of
dresses, picking up a few to try on. A salesperson
approaches me, offering to start a dressing room, and I let
her, trying to fight the anxiety that’s making my shoulders
tight and my back rigid.
I may be worried and anxious about my “business
dinner” with Grant, but it’s not stopping me from trying to
look my best.
I end up with ten dresses in the dressing room. I try
them on rapidly, dismissing one after the other.
Too sexy.
Too demure.
Too party-like.
Too…ugly.
“Miss, I might’ve found something for you,” the
salesperson calls from the other side of the door, as I’m
staring at my reflection in the mirror, hating the frumpy
dress I’m currently wearing.
Going to the door, I slowly open it, peeking my head
through the crack. “Please tell me it’s going to be my
dream dress.”
The woman smiles. “I paid attention to what you chose,
and I think this might do the trick. Hopefully.”
She hands the hanger over to me and I contemplate
the black dress hanging limply from it, frowning. The top is
like one giant ruffle and the skirt is tiered. I wrinkle my
nose, turning it so I can check out the back.
There isn’t much of one. Mostly just the skirt.
“I don’t know…”
“It’s not much on the hanger, I agree, but you have to
try it on to see what it’s really like,” the saleswoman says
eagerly.
I check the price. It’s over four hundred dollars. The
price alone will deter me from buying it. I could afford it—
I’m paid well. But I’m saving ever dime I make right now,
hoping to find a classic black Chanel bag on one of those
used sites. Though honestly, they’re just as expensive as
retail right now.
That damn Chanel flap bag is the epitome of rich bitch
to me, and I want one. I’ve wanted one for years, but my
Chanel lust has amped up since I started working for Finn.
Every female client who comes into the place carries one.
Or Hermes.
That’s still a little out of my price range. A girl has to
have goals though…
“I’ll try it on,” I tell the saleswoman when I realize she’s
waiting for my reply. “But I can’t make any promises. It
looks—scandalous.”
“It’s quite lovely on,” she says cheerily.
“Thank you.” I offer her a wan smile and close the door,
a sigh leaving me as I study the dress on the hanger.
Then I look at myself in the mirror, an even heavier sigh
leaving me.
Anything has to be better than this hideous dress I’m
currently wearing.
I place the hanger on the hook and shed the dress I
have on, then take off my bra. Not that I need to wear one
with any of the dresses I’ve tried on so far. My smallish tits
leave me self-conscious most of the time, but lately I’ve
learned to embrace them.
Grant certainly didn’t have a problem with them. He
groped and nipped at them as if he couldn’t get enough. A
shiver moves through me at the memory, but I banish it
from my mind as I slip the dress on, pushing my arms
through the holes because there aren’t any sleeves.
And no back either. The dress ties at the back, right at
my nape and I do my best to make that happen, but it’s
awkward. So I hold the pieces in place and turn to look at
myself in the mirror.
A gasp leaves me.
Oh.
The saleswoman was right. This dress is divine.
Cropped short enough to show off my legs but nothing too
indecent. The top has a deep V-neck, almost to my navel,
and my waist is exposed. As is the entirety of my back.
There’s a light knock on the door. “Do you need help
with the back, Miss?”
“I do.” I go to the door and open it, and she slips inside.
“Can you tie this for me please?”
She does as I ask and I turn to face the mirror once
more, the saleswoman standing beside me, her eyes
dancing with delight. “Oh, it looks beautiful on you.”
“It’s gorgeous.” I turn to the side, contemplating my
open back. “Is it too scandalous?”
“Depends on what you’re doing. If it’s for a business
meeting, I’d suggest something else.”
Shit. That’s exactly what Grant called it.
“If you’re going on a date with a handsome man, or
perhaps to a party? Then I would say it’s perfect.” She
beams.
Well. I am going to dinner with a handsome man, so
that has to count for something, right?
“What shoes should I wear with it?”
“Stiletto sandals? Though I’ve sold this dress to a few
women right around your age. One of them chose tights
and boots.”
I make a face. No.
“Another chose sky high black stiletto sandals.”
Hmm, maybe.
“Another woman paired it with black nylons with tiny
polka dots. Very retro, eighties vibes.”
“With what sort of shoes?”
“Knee high boots.”
“That could work. I don’t know how I feel about nylons
though. I mean, didn’t our mothers fight to not wear those
back in the day?” My mother actually used to work at a
department store where they were required to wear
pantyhose, back in the early nineties, but she and her
coworkers formed a minor protest. Eventually that
requirement was kicked off the dress code rules.
“They’re making a comeback. Whimsical nylons with
patterns are quite popular, as are boots and tights.” The
salesperson taps her finger against her pursed lips as she
studies me. “Let me go find a couple of options. I’ll be right
back. Don’t take that dress off.”
She leaves before I can say anything and I turn to the
mirror once more, coming closer so I can really look at
myself.
I love it. I do. But do I love it enough to spend four
hundred dollars?
Turning from side to side, I bite my lower lip as I stare
at the bits of flesh exposed, thanks to the cut of the dress.
There’s a lot of skin on display. Legs and arms and a hint
of my shoulders. My back and my sides. My chest. One
wrong move and a tit could fall out.
I think of Grant and his appreciation for my tits and my
skin grows warm. I can only imagine what he might do
when he sees me in this dress. Would his eyes pop out of
his head? Would he growl his appreciation, just before he
mauled me in the middle of the restaurant?
There’s a rapid knock on the door before the
saleswoman bursts in, clutching three packs of nylons in
her hand. She holds up the one she described earlier—
sheer black with tiny black dots. “I like this one best.”
“I’ll take it,” I say without thought. To think too hard is to
convince myself I don’t want it. And really?
I do.
“You’ll take the dress?” the woman asks, lifting her
brows in question.
Forget how expensive the dress is—I want it. All of it.
“I’ll take the dress, the nylons. Maybe you could help me
find some shoes?” My voice is hopeful.
She breaks out into a smile. “Of course. Go ahead and
change and meet me just outside of the dressing room.”
When she starts to leave the dressing room, I call out,
“Thank you. You were right. The dress is amazing.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she actually winks. “Told
you.”
Chapter Six
Grant

I’m sitting at a small table for two at the newest, hottest

restaurant in Manhattan, clutching a glass of whiskey as I
wait for Alyssa’s arrival.
Strictly business, I remind myself as I take another
fortifying sip, the slightly sweet, oaky flavor hot on my
tongue. I’m going to keep it strictly business the entire
dinner, and once we’ve been served our entrees and she
has a few drinks in her system, I’m going to mention the
potential switch from being Finn’s assistant to…something
else.
Haven’t come up with her new position just yet, but I
can make it sound good. Like a promotion. She’ll
understand. She’ll probably be eager to accept. I’m sure
she doesn’t want to be Finn’s assistant forever. He told me
she’s preparing to take her real estate license. Maybe we
should put her into the department with the agents on staff.
Have her help upload listings and the like. Have her
answer the phones even, though that’s more of an entry-
level job.
Most of our clients call their agents on their cell phones,
which makes complete sense. Though, we do get a lot of
older clients who call us direct…
“Another drink, sir?”
I glance up to find my server hovering at my side, his
gaze on the now mostly empty glass in my hand.
“Sure,” I say, with a firm nod. “Thank you.”
He walks away and I glance around the restaurant
before I check my phone for the time. She’s late.
By ten minutes.
I am punctual to a fault. Lateness is like a disease, and
I don’t like it. I have fired people for being late before.
Maybe that’s what I could do to Alyssa. Fire her for being
late to this meeting.
Even though it’s off the clock. Unofficial business.
Yeah, probably can’t fire her.
Fuck.
I scrub a hand along my jaw, my gaze snagging on a
dark-haired woman moving through the crowded
restaurant, being led by the hostess, who brought me to
my table twenty minutes ago. I blink the woman into focus,
my jaw hanging open when I see that it’s, indeed, Alyssa.
And what the fuck is she wearing?
Our gazes connect and her eyes light up, as if she’s
pleased to see me. A faint smile curves her lush lips and I
tilt my head to the side, taking her in.
That dress should be fucking criminal. So much smooth
skin on display. And is she wearing…pantyhose? Sheer
black clings to slender legs, black dots scattered
everywhere, knee fucking high boots on her feet.
It shouldn’t work. I’ve never taken pantyhose off a
woman in my life. That kind of shit reminds me of my
mother—heaven fucking forbid.
But somehow, seeing the combination on Alyssa, it’s
sexy as fuck.
“Here’s your table, Miss,” the hostess says to Alyssa
when they stop by our table. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Thank you,” Alyssa says before she settles into the
chair directly across from me. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Traffic
was hell. My Uber driver wouldn’t stop cursing.”
I appreciate her immediate apology. “You took an
Uber?”
 “I normally take the subway, but I was running late
and…” She shrugs. “I know how you don’t like it when
people are late.”
I frown. “You do?”
“Finn has mentioned it a time or two.”
I’m marveling at the fact that she remembered what
Finn said about me. And that she takes public transit. I
avoid it as much as possible. Even Ubers are a big no for
me. I have a personal driver. Why would I need to use
anything else?
“Here you go, sir.” The server appears, settling the
fresh glass of whiskey in front of me before turning his
attention to Alyssa. His eyes flare with interest when he
takes her in and I immediately want to rip his face off.
“Well, hello. Can I get you something to drink?”
“A lemon drop martini please,” Alyssa says, smiling at
the server.
He grins in return. “Coming right up.” He’s gone before
I can say anything else.
“He likes you.”
“Who?” She opens the menu, not even looking at me,
while I can’t stop staring at her.
Her lips are a deep, luscious pink. Nothing too glossy,
thank God. I hate kissing a woman and coming away with
remnants of her sticky, glittery gloss on my lips.
Wait a fucking minute. I can’t think about kissing her.
That’s never going to happen again.
“The waiter,” I finally say. “He was undressing you with
his eyes.”
She lifts her head, her wide-eyed gaze meeting mine.
The glow from the candle sitting in the middle of our small
round table flickers golden across her face. She’s
breathtakingly beautiful. How did I never notice before?
“Not hard to do with this dress. There’s not much to it.”
 “I see that,” I bite out. “You changed.”
“Don’t worry, I’m still me.” She smiles, and I wonder if
she’s teasing me.
“I mean your outfit.” I nod my head toward her. “That’s
not what you were wearing earlier.”
“Oh this?” She glances down at herself before lifting
her gaze to mine once more. “It’s nothing.”
It most definitely is. That deep V shows a tantalizing
amount of flesh. Skin I just mapped with my lips only last
night. “Not what I would consider business attire.”
“Was this supposed to be a business meeting?” She
wrinkles her nose, which is fucking adorable. “I thought it
was a date.”
“It’s definitely not a date.”
“So it’s just dinner.” Her smile is serene, reminding me
of a queen’s.
“We need to discuss what happened last night.” I take a
giant swallow of my drink, the alcohol slipping down my
throat, easing the knot of tension that’s twisting my insides.
“What about it?”
I decide to get right to the point.
“How the hell did you get into my bed?” I raise a
questioning brow.
The server chooses that moment to deliver her drink,
then asks if we want any appetizers, his gaze on Alyssa
the entire time, which I find infuriating. She contemplates
the appetizer section on the menu while he hovers, his
gaze on her chest.
“Do you like lettuce wraps?” she asks me.
“Get whatever you want.” I wave a dismissive hand.
“We’ll take the lettuce wraps then.” She smiles up at
the googly-eyed server.
“I’ll get them started. I’ll be right back.” He takes off like
a shot.
 “You shouldn’t flirt with him,” I tell her when he’s gone.
“I’m not flirting. I’m being polite. Trying to offset the dark
glower on your face every time he comes around.” Her
pointed look is fucking hot, when it absolutely shouldn’t be.
“I don’t like how he looks at you.”
“And how does he look at me?”
“Like he wants to fuck you.” Again with my getting
straight to the point.
She doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Something you’re
familiar with?”
Frustration rips through me and I want to bash the table
with my fist, but I contain myself. “Tell me. How did you
end up in my apartment? In my bed?”
Alyssa takes a sip of her lemon drop martini, her lips
glistening from the sugared rim on the glass. “Your
brother.”
What the ever-loving fuck? “Are you telling me Finn
encouraged you to sneak into my apartment and slip into
my bed wearing panties and nothing else? I find that hard
to believe.”
“Not quite.” Her voice is soft and calm. The complete
opposite of my current chaotic emotions. “He asked me to
make a call and order you—a woman.”
She actually sneers.
And I actually feel faintly embarrassed. That’s
something he usually handles on his own.
“Thought you’d insert yourself instead?” Unbelievable.
“That’s exactly what I did.” She props her elbow on the
table and rests her chin on her curled fist, studying me. “I
didn’t hear you complaining. Not once.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“Really.” Her voice is flat. She doesn’t believe me.
“At first,” I add.
“Even when my lips were wrapped around your cock?”
 Jesus. A beautiful woman wearing a dress like the one
Alyssa has on has no business saying something like that
while in the middle of a busy restaurant. My cock responds
immediately.
“How about when you grabbed hold of my hair and
fucked my mouth? Did you figure it out then?” She takes
another sip of her drink, as calm as a queen standing over
her court. “Or maybe when you came all over my tits. Yes,
I bet that’s when you realized who I was.”
I am literally squirming in my seat like a little kid who
just got busted at school by the principal. “I thought I was
having a dream.”
The moment the words leave me, I realize how lame
they sound.
I don’t like how this woman makes me feel. Unsettled.
Unsure. I never experience those emotions with a female.
I’m the one who’s always in command.
Maybe this woman needs to be shown her place.
“You keep saying that. Have you dreamed of me
before, Grant?” I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard
her say my name. “I know I’ve dreamed of you.”
My skin grows tight at her admission. “Really.”
She nods, reaching out to trace the bottom of her
martini glass with a single finger. “I probably shouldn’t have
done what I did.”
“No, you definitely shouldn’t have,” I agree.
“I might’ve risked my job.” She bites her lower lip, those
big brown eyes drinking me in.
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to lean over the table
and nibble on that tempting lower lip. “You definitely risked
it.”
Her expression fills with worry. “I don’t want to lose my
job at Lancaster. I love it there. I love working for Finn.”
The wave of jealousy that washes over me is palpable.
“I don’t think it’s smart to have you working for Finn any
longer.”
I didn’t plan on bringing it up so soon, but she forced
my hand.
Her lips part. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll need to work in another department. Another
position.”
“And what position would that be?”
The server arrives with our appetizers, setting the plate
on the table with a flourish, the cocksucker. “Have you had
a chance to look over the menu yet? Have any questions?
Or are you ready to order?”
“No,” I bite out at the same time Alyssa says yes.
The server barely glances at me. “And what would you
like?”
“I’d like you to get the fuck out of here. Give us a few
more minutes,” I demand.
The server blinks at me and slowly backs away. “I’ll
give you ten.”
The moment he’s gone, Alyssa is laughing.
Laughing.
“You’re so mean sometimes.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s harmless.”
“He wants to fuck you.”
“So do you.” Her smile is small. Triumphant.
“You can’t work for Finn anymore.” I want that smug
look off her face. She needs to know who’s in command.
Her smile fades. “And who am I supposed to work for?”
“Me.”
Chapter Seven
Alyssa

Is this man for real right now?

“What do you mean, you want me to work for you?”
“As my assistant.” He reaches for his glass and drains
every last drop before setting it back on the table. His
expression is stone-cold sober.
“But I work for Finn,” I remind him.
“Not any longer.” His expression hardens. “You want to
work at Lancaster, you have to work for me.”
It’s my turn to reach for my drink with shaky fingers,
draining it completely. The tangy sweet taste slides down
my throat like molten lava, setting me on absolute fire.
Or maybe that’s the uncontrollable anger I feel at this
man’s ultimatums. His bossy, shitty attitude.
Who the hell does he think he is?
Your boss, silly.
I shove that nagging voice into the furthest corner of my
mind.
“As what? Your personal whore? Because if that’s what
you’re proposing…” I rise to my feet, clutching the back of
my chair so tight I’m white knuckling it. “I quit.”
A ragged sigh leaves him and he scrubs his hand along
his jaw. I take in his golden brown hair and those piercing
blue eyes. The sharp jaw and equally sharp nose, all those
hard angles offset by the lush beauty that is his mouth.
It’s a talented mouth. A cruel one as well.
“I’m not asking you to be my—personal whore, as you
put it.” His icy gaze flicks to mine, sending a shiver down
my spine. “Sit down.”
I do as he says with no argument, staring with longing
at my empty martini glass.
I would just about kill for another lemon drop right now.
“What are you asking from me then?” I ask when he
still hasn’t said anything.
“Like I said, you can be my assistant.”
“You already have one.”
“I’m a busy man. I need two.”
I don’t believe him. I don’t believe any of this. I don’t
know why he asked me to meet him tonight, but if this was
his motive, I feel like a fool.
It wasn’t a date, as I’d hoped. He really was calling a
business meeting to discuss my future position at
Lancaster. I bought a four-hundred-dollar dress for nothing.
I dressed up, trying to drive him mad with lust and instead,
I just made him…
Mad.
“I assume you’ve discussed this with Finn,” I say,
glancing around the restaurant in search of our waiter.
“Of course I have,” he retorts. I can feel his gaze on me
as I continue searching for our waiter, heavy and
foreboding. “And look at me when I speak to you.”
I jerk my gaze back to his, anger making me fume.
“Don’t talk to me as if you’re my father.”
“Don’t disrespect me when I’m talking to you.”
Clenching my hands into fists in my lap, I lean forward,
lowering my voice as I say, “You’re a monster. I regret
fucking you.”
“You didn’t seem too regretful last night when you were
screaming my name.” His grin is wolfish.
Oh, how the tables have turned. I don’t like this.
At all.
“I need to use the ladies’ room.” I rise to my feet, a little
slower and steadier this time around, tilting my chin up and
hoping I look as if he doesn’t bother me whatsoever. “I’ll be
right back.”
“You so sure about that?” A single brow arches and I’m
tempted to slug him in his beautiful, aristocratic face.
But I don’t. I do have some semblance of control.
“Yes,” I say through tight lips, offering a closed-lipped
smile before I turn and flee the table, making my way
blindly through the restaurant, trying my best not to make
eye contact with anyone.
I’m on the verge of tears, and I don’t understand why.
More out of frustration than anything. The man is
insufferable. Awful. I don’t want to be his assistant. I’m
sure he’s difficult and unyielding. In fact, I know he is. Finn
gripes about him enough for me to realize that Grant
Lancaster would be a disaster to work for. He’d drive me to
drink.
Drive me straight out of the office.
I stop and ask the hostess where the restrooms are,
and she directs me with a kind smile, as if she understands
I’m about to lose it. I thank her and escape into the cool,
elegant ladies’ room, thankful it’s empty.
Pressing my forehead against the sleek white tile, I
briefly close my eyes, take a deep breath and count to five
before I push away from the wall. The door swings open,
revealing Grant standing there, and I don’t hesitate.
“Go away.”
He doesn’t budge. “Are you alone in here?”
“What does it matter?” I rest my hands on my hips.
His smoldering gaze rakes over me, a slow perusal that
leaves my skin hot. My mouth dry.
“Are you?”
Unable to speak, I nod once.
He rushes forward, crowding me, backing me into the
largest stall. He pulls the door shut behind him, the quick
snick of the lock loud in the otherwise quiet room and the
next thing I know, he’s got me pressed against that cold,
white tile wall, his hands on my hips.
His mouth finding mine.
I open to him immediately, unable to stop myself
despite how angry he makes me. He disrespects me every
chance he gets and I let him. I might even like it
sometimes.
Like right now.
“You frustrate the shit out of me,” he mutters against my
lips, his fingers seeking the bare skin at my waist. His
touch is hot, like a scorching brand on my flesh, and my
pussy floods with moisture. The greedy thing.
“Right back at you.” I nip at his lower lip, tugging on it
with my teeth, and he growls. Literally growls.
Cue me soaking my panties thoroughly.
“Why are you so goddamn defiant?” His hands drop,
grasping at the hem of my dress until they’re beneath it,
his fingers sliding along the outside of my hips, along the
nylons I’m wearing. “And why the fuck are you wearing
pantyhose?”
The old-fashioned, feminine word dropping from his lips
makes me laugh throatily. “You don’t like them?”
“I hate them.” He’s cupping me between my thighs, his
fingers exerting just enough pressure to make me suck in
a breath. Good lord, that feels good. “You should hate
them too. I’d have my fingers in your panties by now if you
weren’t wearing the damnable things.”
He presses again, slow and rough, his fingers pushing
so the middle one is in between my lower lips and I close
my eyes, a shuddery breath leaving me when he rubs my
clit. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“You like that?” More pressure, a direct hit on my clit,
and I bite my lower lip, nodding. “You’re not shy, are you?”
“Not with you,” I admit, my eyes flying open when he
grabs hold of my chin with his other hand. “What?”
“I’m going to fuck you in this bathroom if you keep this
up.” He thrusts against me, nice and slow, his erection
rubbing against my stomach. “See what you do to me?”
Our gazes lock, our faces so close his breath fans
across my lips, his fingers still between my legs. We say
nothing for what feels like long, tension-filled minutes, and
then his mouth returns to mine, drinking from my lips, his
tongue doing a deep dive.
The kiss is sloppy. Wild. He’s tearing at my nylons, his
fingers ripping into the delicate fabric and then they’re
beneath my panties, just as he promised. The moment his
fingers sink into my pussy, he groans, pressing his
forehead against mine as he breaks our kiss.
“So fucking wet.” He strokes, the sound of my juices
seeming to bounce off the tile walls, echoing in the empty
room. “All for me?”
I say nothing, but he knows.
All for him.
So annoying.
He ratchets up his speed within seconds, his attention
on my clit and nothing else, his forehead still pressed to
mine. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me as I struggle
to stay upright. My clit tingles, my entire body tingles, and I
close my eyes, the breath stalling in my throat when he
rubs tiny circles again and again. Fast. Faster…
The bathroom door opens, laughing women walk
inside, and Grant stills his movements, his body coiled and
tense as he lifts his forehead from mine.
I watch him, my eyes widening when he slowly
resumes stroking me, his expression like a warning.
Be quiet.
 Don’t say a word.
Don’t give yourself away.
I nod slowly, pressing my lips together when he takes
his hand away from me. If I could, I’d moan from the loss.
Cry out with need.
He puts his hands on me, and it’s as if I forget
everything else but the intense pleasure I know he can
bring me. No man has ever made me feel like this one
does.
The women are chattering away, but I can’t make out
what they’re saying as they each go into a stall. I’m too
caught up in a web of desire created by this man. This very
powerful, seductive man who commands everyone he
encounters with a look. A sound.
A touch.
His hands rest on my waist and he’s lifting, urging me
up. I wrap my legs around his waist, biting back the gasp
that wants to escape when he angles his hips just so, his
hard cock rubbing against the front of my damp panties.
He thrusts against me, nudging my clit, and that’s all it
takes.
A small but intense orgasm rocks through me,
rendering me momentarily blind. Speechless. Soundless.
My lips part and my vision blurs as the subtle waves wash
over me. Again and again. It’s unlike any orgasm I’ve
experienced before and I almost come all over again when
he presses his hand against my mouth in a precautionary
move.
He thrusts his face in mine, those cold blue eyes locked
on me as he fumbles with the front of his trousers. His belt
comes undone, the clanking sound masked by the
women’s laughter and within seconds, his cock is out, my
panties are shoved to the side and he’s entering me in one
smooth, sure stroke, pinning me to the wall.
 When he begins to move, I close my eyes, lost to the
sensation of his cock filling my body. A soft grunt leaves
him with every thrust, but I don’t even care if they can hear
him. Besides, the women are washing their hands so the
sound of the running water covers whatever noise we’re
making.
Because we’re both becoming noisy. I crack open my
eyes, whimpering beneath his palm, his fingers tightening
on my face and I love it. I shouldn’t, but it’s such a turn-on,
the way he’s holding me. Glaring at me. Fucking me.
My body tingles, my second orgasm of the night
hovering in the distance and I can’t look away from him.
The women exit the bathroom and he increases his speed,
fucking me in earnest, his cock moving in and out of my
body rapidly. His movements are jerky, borderline out of
control and the orgasmic wave slams into me out of
nowhere, a sharp cry leaving me, the sound loud even
from beneath his hand.
He removes it from my mouth, kissing me hard,
swallowing my moans as my pussy milks his cock, my own
orgasm wrenching his right out of him. Until he’s the one
groaning against my lips, his big body shuddering, his
semen filling me up.
Shit. We didn’t use a condom. Didn’t use one last night
either, though I shouldn’t get pregnant, thanks to being on
birth control.
But he fucks other women. I don’t know how frequently,
but enough to know I should probably be concerned.
His kisses turn gentle. Almost sweet as the tremors
racking his body slowly subside. He touches the side of my
face, fingers drifting across my cheek as he slowly pulls
away, so he can look at me. Our bodies are still connected,
his cock buried deep inside of me and we stare at each
other, our chests brushing against one another as we try to
calm our breathing.
“I’m starving,” are the first words he says, and I can’t
help it.
I burst out laughing.
Chapter Eight
Grant

After an especially aggressive bout of sex in the women’s

bathroom at one of the most popular restaurants in all of
Manhattan, a man works up a hearty appetite.
Like me. I’m that man.
Once we’ve composed ourselves, I escort Alyssa back
to our table, our hovering server waiting for us upon our
arrival. I order the steak and lobster plate while Alyssa
orders a shrimp salad, me giving her a skeptical look the
entire time she’s speaking to the besotted server.
She only wants a salad? After I made her come twice?
I bark out a fresh drink order to the server and the
asshole scurries away like I whipped him in the ass.
Huh. I wish.
I wonder if he could smell the scent of sex on us. I can.
I’m smothered with it, along with the scent of Alyssa’s skin.
I washed my hands, but I swear to God I can still smell the
distinct aroma of her pussy on my fingers.
That moment in the bathroom was hot. That first
orgasm that hit her—totally unexpected. I couldn’t resist
fucking her when the women came inside. Half the thrill
was possibly getting caught.
I also don’t know what came over me, demanding she
be my assistant. What a terrible idea. Having her work
closely to me would be a disaster. She’s a complete
distraction. I’d fuck her all over the office, most likely in the
first week of her coming to work for me.
Can’t do it. Can’t risk it.
 “I’ve been giving it some consideration,” I tell her, once
the server drops off our fresh drinks. “And I don’t want you
to be my assistant after all.”
The hurt look on her face is unmistakable as she takes
a healthy sip of her girly cocktail. “What are you suggesting
then?”
“You could take a little time off—”
She interrupts me, her dark gaze lit with flames and
smoke. “Are you firing me?”
“Of course not,” I snap, then immediately soften my
tone. “You should take your time and work toward your real
estate license. Finn mentioned you were working on that.”
“Oh.” She sets the glass on the table, contemplating
me with those big brown eyes. Her hair is mussed. Her
dress is a little crooked. She’s fucking beautiful. “I can’t
afford to take time off work.”
“I’ll pay you.”
Her eyes widen. “I won’t take charity.”
“Think of it as a benefit to your future. And to mine—for
the business.” If she’s not working, she won’t be at the
office because she’ll be too busy studying for her license.
That might be a good thing. And once she gets it and
begins working for us in that capacity, she’ll always be out
and about and I’ll never see her.
Perfect.
So why does my heart pang at the potential loss?
“That’s so—generous of you.” The words are
unspoken, but I’m sure she thinks I’m trying to pay her off.
Shut her up. Though that’s not my goal. Not at all.
What the hell even is my goal? I’m not sure.
I’m just running on pure instinct.
“Once you pass, you can come work for us as an
agent.”
Her smile is small. “That’s my dream.”
 “Finn mentioned that as well.”
“Do you and your brother talk about me often?”
“No, not really.” Again, I never thought much of her
beyond being a pain in my ass every time I tried to get in
contact with my brother. She guards his time like it’s the
most important thing on the planet. “He casually mentioned
the real estate license bit a few weeks ago. Said he
wanted to make sure we had a spot open for you once
your license is secured.”
“That’s so sweet of him.” Her smile is genuine, her
cheeks still flushed from those two orgasms I just gave her.
“Finn is very kind.”
No one should describe what a Lancaster does as
sweet, no matter what we do. We are not a kind family.
Certain members head charities and run fundraisers, but
that’s mostly for show. My aunt Sylvia is an advocate for a
variety of charities involving children. Our name appears
on hospital wings and college buildings all over this state,
even across the country, but those things are born out of
necessity. For tax purposes, not because we’re generous
with our money.
We’re forced to be generous or else we’re giving every
cent we make to the IRS, and the generations of
Lancasters before us ensured we’d avoid massive tax
payments as best we could.
So no. Sweet and kind are not words we’re used to.
Words I’m definitely not used to. Finn is the gentler of the
three of us Lancaster brothers, but still…
“Do you think Finn wants to fuck you?” I ask
conversationally.
Alyssa is mid-sip and she practically chokes on her
martini, setting the glass on the table as she launches into
a coughing fit. I watch her helplessly, not sure what to do,
and when the coughing finally subsides, she’s glaring at
me, slowly shaking her head.
“Not everything is about sex, Grant.”
My skin warms. “Say it again.”
“What? The word sex?” She rolls her eyes.
“No.” I shake my head. “My name.”
“Oh.” She sits up straighter, and there’s a glint in her
eyes as she watches me. “Not everyone wants to fuck me
like you do. Grant.”
This woman is just…I don’t even know how to describe
her. She is unlike any woman I’ve dealt with before.
“Been there, done that.” I smirk, unable to help myself.
“Not even a few minutes ago.”
Her cheeks go pink. “You’re rude.”
“You were right there with me, enjoying every second.”
I need to stop flirting with her. It’s getting me into trouble.
“You never did answer my question.”
“What was it again?” She’s flustered, and that’s all my
fault.
“Do you think my brother wants to fuck you?” I pause
for only a moment. “Because if you do, that could be a
major problem.”
She goes still, her eyes wide and unblinking. “I don’t
think so. He doesn’t flirt with me. Keeps everything on a
business level.”
I stare at her, fixating on her mouth. It’s a beautiful
mouth. The shape, the natural rosy shade of her lips, how
lush that bottom one is. I want to bite it. Shove my dick
between her lips and watch her suck it—
“Unlike you,” she adds.
Leaning back, I cross my arms like the defensive
asshole I am. “When did I ever have an interaction with
you that wasn’t strictly professional before you hopped into
my bed last night?”
She visibly bristles at my words. “You were always
glaring at me whenever you came around. Insulting me.”
“I’m grumpy. An asshole even.” A soft laugh escapes
her when I say that. “You know this.”
“I thought you were flirting.”
I scoff. “If you thought that was me flirting, you are way
off.”
“Do you flirt?”
“I don’t know, Alyssa.” I drop my arms and lean
forward, my gaze zeroing in on her chest, wishing I had x-
ray vision. “Do I?”
The server chooses that moment to show up with our
meals and Alyssa smiles up at him, relief written all over
her pretty face at the break in conversation, I’m sure.
When he chances a glance in my direction, I scowl, letting
my hatred for the guy be totally obvious. He fumbles with
my plate as he sets it in front of me on the table, it nearly
slipping from his fingers and dropping in my lap.
“Watch it, you fucking moron,” I mutter.
The server apologizes and flees like the devil himself is
chasing him.
“You’re going to give him a heart attack,” Alyssa
chastises once the waiter is gone.
“If he’d stop staring at you, then maybe I wouldn’t have
a problem with him.” I grab my knife and fork and attack
my steak with gusto. It’s perfectly cooked, medium rare
with a nice pink center and I savor the taste, eating a
quarter of it in mere seconds.
“Hungry?”
I glance up to find her watching me, an amused
expression on her face. “I told you earlier I was starving.”
When I was still inside her. Just after we’d both come.
During one of the hottest sexual encounters of my life. In a
bathroom. At a restaurant.
Fuck me, I’m losing grip on my sanity.
 “Why does it matter if that waiter was staring at me?”
she asks, looking genuinely curious. She hasn’t even
started eating her salad, and I’m halfway finished with my
meal. “It’s not like we’re…together.”
Spoken like a true woman. Hinting around, wanting to
know if I consider her an important part of my life or not.
Well, the answer is or not. I barely know the woman.
We’ve had a couple of hot rounds of sex. She infuriates
me most of the time when I’m with her.
Not at the moment, though. The soft look in her gaze
as she watches me, waiting for me to say something.
I decide to change the subject.
“How’s the salad?”
She frowns. “Delicious.”
“You’ve barely touched it.” I briefly glance down at my
half-empty plate. “Will it be enough?”
“What do you mean?”
“We just had a big—workout.” What a way to describe
what just happened in that bathroom.
“I’m on a diet,” she admits.
I scoff. “As if you need to watch what you eat.”
She sets her fork down on the edge of her plate.
“Actually, I do. I also work out a lot. At the gym.”
“And with me.” I’m teasing her, like a besotted idiot.
By the frown that’s still on her face, I’m guessing I’m
doing a terrible job of it.
“Hmm. Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all.”
Now I’m the one frowning. “What do you mean?”
“The two of us, getting—involved. If I were to become
your assistant, you’d have to see me every single day.”
For the briefest second, I think that sounds like a great
idea.
“And that could become a real distraction,” she
continues.
 Reality comes crashing down at her words and I
remember how awful I am when it comes to women. As in,
I’m not interested in a single one for an extended period of
time, and for good reason. A woman is a distraction. A
vulnerability. They want things I can’t provide. Not now.
Maybe not ever.
Alyssa needs to understand that. What happened
between us last night, just a few minutes ago, means
nothing.
Nothing.
“Right.” I offer a firm nod, all business. “I thought we
already made that clear. You won’t be my assistant. And
you won’t be Finn’s anymore either. You’re going to take
some time off. Focus on studying for your license.”
“Are you trying to get me out of the office so you won’t
have to deal with me any longer?” She looks hurt, and I
feel like shit for causing her pain. Something I rarely
experience. “Is that the purpose behind your suggestion?
Or do you really want to help me become a real estate
agent?”
“Of course I want to help you become a real estate
agent,” I tell her with all the sincerity I can muster.
She’s watching me as if she doesn’t believe me for a
second, and I wonder what gave me away.
Chapter Nine
Alyssa

It’s been two weeks since I had sex with Grant Lancaster
in a restaurant bathroom, and I haven’t seen him since that
night. He didn’t invite me back to his place. Or even offer
me a ride in his private car with the driver who takes him
wherever he wants to go. Instead, I Uber’d back to my sad
little apartment and tore the offending four hundred dollar
dress off, vowing to never wear it again. I tossed the ripped
pantyhose in the trash and then I threw myself on my bed
and cried.
And cried and cried.
I haven’t cried since that night. The next day I
refocused. Found my center. Marched into work with my
head held high and all sorts of things I could say on the tip
of my tongue.
Finn met me at my desk, letting me know that someone
else was covering my position for the interim while I went
on sabbatical for the next month.
An entire month.
He wouldn’t let me argue or plead my case. He was
very firm as he gave me a small box to pack my personal
belongings in. I for sure thought I was being fired, but I got
paid today—the direct deposit amount hit my bank account
and it was a full two weeks’ salary.
So. Weird.
I threw myself into studying. I took courses online. I
obtained the hours of coursework necessary to take the
proctored test, and then I took the course practice test this
past Saturday.
And passed with ease.
The real test is happening in a week, and I’m nervous,
yet ready for it. I’m also excited. The next stage in my
career path is that much closer, and I’m beyond ready to
start working for Lancaster and Lancaster as an agent.
Thinking of the brothers leads me to thinking of Grant,
and I’m equal parts annoyed and aroused. The man is
infuriating. There is no other way to look at what he did to
me—he banished me from the office and I know why.
To keep me out of his sight. Out of his mind. If I’m not
around then he can’t be tempted by me, right?
I hope he’s suffered. I hope he thought about me every
single minute of each day since the last time we were
together. I hope he’s in absolute agony with wanting me
still.
I know that’s how I feel about him.
“Ugh!” I stomp my booted foot on the floor so hard, my
neighbor below me shouts her displeasure. “Sorry!”
She’s a grumpy old woman who’s in a perpetual bad
mood. Grant would probably love her.
I go to the full-length mirror I keep propped against my
bedroom wall and check out my outfit one last time before I
leave. Sleek black shift dress with cap sleeves. Black
tights on my legs, the now infamous black knee-high
boots. My hair is slicked into a low ponytail, not a hair out
of place. Thin silver hoops hang from my ears, big enough
for me to wear as a bracelet if I wanted to.
I look like a bad ass. Ready to go out into the world and
conquer.
There’s only one person I want to conquer today
though.
Grant Lancaster.
 ***

The moment I sweep into the building, it’s as if a secret

alarm is set off because I’m greeted by, not only Finn at his
office, but Grant too, which is unexpected.
Not a part of my plan.
Seeing Grant after two long, study-filled weeks is like a
shock to my system. He’s impeccable as usual in a three-
piece navy pinstripe suit with a crisp white shirt beneath,
his tie a rich, dark purple. Not a hair out of place, not a
single whisker on his chin or cheek. His mouth is formed
into a stern line the moment our gazes meet and my knees
buckle, threatening to give out on me.
No, I tell myself. You’ve got this.
You’ve got him.
“Alyssa,” Finn greets me, his expression easy, his smile
faint. He draws me into a brief hug, never getting too close.
“It’s so good to see you.”
“Nice to see you too.” I pull away from him, my skin
heating from Grant’s intense stare. Someone is not happy
that I just hugged his brother.
Or maybe he doesn’t give a shit. I’m not too sure—and
that’s what I hate the most.
The uncertainty I feel when it comes to Grant. I only
have myself to blame for it too, which makes it worse. I
suppose this is what I get for sneaking into his bed and
having sex with him. I brought all of my Grant-induced
troubles upon myself.
“You look great.” Finn’s gaze roams over me, but it
doesn’t feel sexual in any way. “What brings you into the
office? I thought you were still studying.”
“It’s been two weeks, and I’ve been studying nonstop.
Add that to the hours I’ve already accumulated these last
few months, and I have the hours necessary to take the
test.” I stand a little taller. “I passed the practice test
already.”
“That’s fantastic,” Finn says, nodding.
“When do you take the test for your license?” Grant
asks me.
I dare to look over at him, pinned in place by his
penetrating gaze. “In a week.”
“And what do you hope to do once you pass?” He
raises a brow.
Is he dead inside? Everything about him seems so
unfeeling. Nonreactive. It’s just another day at the office for
him. And I’m just his brother’s former assistant stopping by.
“Become a real estate agent?”
I ask like it’s a trick question or something.
“She’s coming to work for us,” Finn says, his voice firm.
I nearly sag with relief when he says that.
I was afraid Grant would find any reason to keep me
away from this building—and him—permanently.
A phone rings, the sound coming from Finn’s pocket,
and he pulls it out, grimacing when he sees the name
flashing on the screen. “I need to take this. Give me a few.”
He strides away from us, answering the call by barking out,
“What?”
Reminding me of Grant.
Who’s currently watching me. I can feel his gaze on
me, drinking me in, heating me up. Deciding to be brave, I
turn to face him fully, not looking away. “You’re
disappointed, aren’t you?”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” The fire in his
tone tells me he’s affected by my being here, and for some
stupid reason, that gives me hope.
“You were thinking you could send me away and you’d
never have to see me again.” I lift my chin. “I’m harder to
get rid of than you thought.”
“Like a cockroach,” he mutters.
I almost want to laugh, even if he’s insulting me. “I think
you might like this particular cockroach.”
And now I just insulted myself.
“They’re disgusting.”
“Are you saying I’m disgusting?” I take a step toward
him. Then another. “Or did you miss me while I was gone?”
What is it about this man that makes me say such bold
things? He should terrify me. If I was smart, I’d go running
from the building, screaming the entire way. Putting
enough distance between me and Grant that I would
guarantee never having to deal with him again.
Instead, I backtalk and taunt him the first moment I’m in
the same room with him. I don’t know why he makes me
act this way.
He should probably fire me. I’d deserve it.
“I never thought of you once.” His gaze flickers away
from mine at the last second, and I realize…
He’s lying.
My heart trips over itself as I take another step toward
him. “I’m not afraid to admit I missed you.”
He lifts a brow, but otherwise doesn’t say a word.
“I missed everything about you.” A few more steps
closer, until I’m within touching distance. “Your growly
ways. How you glare at me when you’re annoyed. How
you look at me when you’re drunk with desire, just after
you’ve come inside my body.”
His eyes flare with heat. “Alyssa…”
“I wish we could do that again.” I rest my hand lightly on
his chest, the fine silk of his tie smooth beneath my palm.
“Don’t you?”
He glances around the cavernous, empty room, as if
seeking help.
Sorry buddy, there’s no escaping me.
Without warning, he grabs hold of me, his fingers
curling around the crook of my elbow, making me gasp. He
hauls me in close, his mouth slanting over mine, and I’m
lost.
Lost in his kiss. In his taste. In the sensuous glide of his
tongue against mine. A whimper leaves me and he
swallows it. He drops one hand to my ass, pushing me
closer to him, and I can feel his unmistakable erection
pressing against my lower belly.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, marching into our
building dressed like this?” he mutters against my lips, just
before he slides his mouth along the length of my neck.
“You act like you own the place.”
“No, I-I don’t.” I squeeze my eyes closed, everything
inside of me clenching tight when he licks my neck. Bites
my earlobe.
“I should fire you.”
“On what grounds?”
“For being too goddamn sexy.” He pulls away slightly,
and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his lips
damp, his gaze full of heat. “I’m not fucking you in the
bathroom.”
My entire body lights up at his mention of the word
fucking. I glance just over his shoulder. “Finn’s desk?”
“Absolutely not.” He releases me, and the
disappointment I feel at losing his touch is incredibly
painful. “Come with me.”
He takes my arm and leads me out of the office. Down
the hall to the other side of the floor, where his office is. All
the while, he never says a single word, though his body
vibrates with unmistakable tension.
I’m okay with his silence. More than okay. My body is
wound tight with excitement, my lips still tingling from his
breath-stealing kiss. I had zero plans on anything like this
happening today, though I’d hoped he’d at least see me.
Catch sight of me in my power dress, with my sleek hair
and giant hoops and ball stomping boots.
He’s lucky I’m not particularly angry with him. I might’ve
tested out the ball stomping part if he said one wrong thing
and pissed me off.
Grant escorts me into his office, his hold loosening as
we walk past his assistant, Astor, who’s sitting at her desk,
typing away on her keyboard. She barely looks at us as we
walk past her, heading for Grant’s private office.
“Hold all of my calls,” he grits out as he practically
shoves open the door.
“Even from your family?” Astor is still staring at the
screen in front of her, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Especially from my family.” He slams the door shut
before she can utter a response, his fingers going for the
lock, turning it into place.
I escape out of his grip and turn to look at him, slowly
walking backward as he stalks toward me. My heart is
racing at his dark expression, the gleam in his eye. I
glance over my shoulder, making sure I’m not going to run
into anything or trip and fall, and when I turn back to face
him, he’s closer than ever.
Handsome as ever too. Those blue eyes are shining
bright as he drinks me in, a lock of golden-brown hair
falling across his forehead. Without thought, I come to a
halt and reach for it, pushing it back, my fingers tangling in
the silky strands and his eyelids fall to half-mast, as if my
touching him might feel good.
Like he might enjoy it.
They call him cold. Unfeeling. Almost all of the
Lancasters are referred to in that way, but this man…I’ve
seen more emotion come from him than any other man
I’ve been with like this.
They just don’t know him. Not as well as I do.
“I’m going to fuck you on my desk,” he says, his voice
firm, as if the decision has already been made.
Fine by me.
His hands are on my waist, and he starts guiding me
backward once more, until my butt hits the edge of his
desk. “O-okay.”
“First, I’m going to spread you out and eat that needy
pussy of yours.”
Oh, the promise in his voice. It’s enough to set my so-
called needy pussy on absolute fire.
“And every single day after this, when I sit here and
take calls or have meetings or even when I’m in here by
myself, I’m going to remember this moment. When I had
your bare ass right here.” He leans over and pats the spot
just behind me. “With my mouth on your cunt, my tongue
plunging inside of you.”
Shit. That sounds…
Amazing.
With little effort, he lifts me up, settling my butt on top of
his desk. His gaze drops, taking in my tight-covered legs
and the knee-high boots with the zippers in the back. He
makes a face. “Why do you always dress in such
complicated shit?”
“It’s cold outside,” I admit.
“Yet you’re wearing short sleeves.” He runs his hand
down my bare arm, making me shiver. “You make no damn
sense.”
“You like it.” His gaze catches mine. “You like me.”
“Fuck.” He shakes his head, his eyes falling closed for
the briefest moment. My heart is in freefall, waiting for the
next words he might say.
 If he pushes me away right now, I’ll cry. I know it.
But when his eyes flash open, I see nothing but lust
and heat swirling in his gaze. “I like you too much. That’s
my problem.”
My heart threatens to burst out of my chest when he
goes to work on my boots, slipping them both off and
cursing the entire time. He reaches for the hem of my
dress, shoving it up and revealing me to his gaze.
I am the farthest thing from sexy in the black tights that
go all the way up to my belly button, but from the way he
stares at me, you’d think I was already completely naked.
“Jesus, woman.”
He claws at the waistband of my tights, tugging and
pulling, ripping and snagging the thick fabric like a brute.
“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound sorry about it at
all.
“This is the first time I’ve worn them,” I protest, which is
the truth. “And they were expensive.”
Also the truth.
“I’ll buy you a new pair. Twenty pairs.” He’s tugging
them down my legs, kneeling before me, his mouth finding
my bare skin, covering it in hot kisses.
I watch in absolute amazement while I have one of the
most powerful men in the city on his knees before me,
impeccably dressed, his cheeks ruddy, his eyes flaring with
unmistakable want. The moment the tights are off both my
legs completely, he’s breathing a sigh of relief, his hot
breath wafting across my skin, tickling me. He lifts his gaze
to mine, never looking away as he kisses my shin, the
inside of my knee. He does the same to my other leg.
My mouth goes dry as all of my breath escapes me. I
brace myself, my palms flat on the desk behind me, and I
widen my legs, my skirt riding up, revealing my sheer black
thong.
 The pained expression on his face is worth all of it.
Every single moment of suffering I’ve gone through at
being alone the last couple of weeks.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says with a groan, his hands
pressing on the inside of my thighs, spreading me even
wider. “Look at you.”
He’s staring at the spot between my thighs. My pussy
floods with moisture, and I know my thong is soaked. It has
to be.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he reaches out, his
touch gentle as he barely strokes the front of my thong.
“Wet.”
I sink my teeth into my lower lip, nodding my answer.
He rubs up and down. Back and forth. Staying on top of
the fabric the entire time, the bastard. “Needy, just like I
said.”
My whimper is a sign of my total agreement.
“You want my mouth on you?” His gaze lifts to mine.
My nod is rapid, my heart racing.
“Need to take these off first.” His fingers curl around the
waistband of my thong and he starts to slip them off. I lift
my butt, allowing him to pull them down, past my hips, my
thighs, exposing me completely until they’re gone. A
crumpled reminder lying on the floor. “Lay back.”
I do as he says, careful not to knock over anything,
though I’m lying on top of papers and a cold, closed laptop.
He realizes it and reaches for the computer, pulling it from
beneath me, so I can lie there as comfortably as I can.
Which is to say not very comfortably at all, though I
don’t care.
I just want to feel his mouth on me. Something he’s
never done to me before.
He shoves the dress up, until it’s bunched beneath my
breasts, my entire lower half on full display for him. My
legs fall open and he dips down, his mouth directly in front
of my pussy. His eyes close, and he breathes deeply, as if
he’s enjoying my scent and oh God…
That’s kind of hot.
He suddenly puts his mouth on my pussy and I nearly
buck off the desk, it’s such a shock. His tongue works me
as if it was made just for my pleasure, searching
everywhere. Circling my clit. Teasing my entrance.
“Grant.” I groan his name when he slips his finger
inside me. Then adds another. Another still. Until he’s
stretching me wide and fucking me with three fingers. I
writhe beneath him, whimpering when he lashes his
tongue across my clit. Crying out when he sucks it
between his lips.
It all feels so good. Too good. And so naughty, with
Grant’s head between my thighs as I’m sprawled across
his desk. Is it even noon yet?
I don’t think so.
He grips my hip tightly with his other hand, his tongue
slicking through my juices, and I can hear the sloppy
sounds. Another surge of moisture floods me, and I lift my
hips, seeking his eager mouth. God, it’s hot, what he’s
doing to me.
So fucking hot…
“You going to come, dirty girl?” I glance down to find
him watching me, his tongue out as he delivers an
exaggerated lick for my viewing pleasure, making me
shudder. “You’re close. I can tell.”
I nod, my entire body growing tight with anticipation.
He focuses all of his attention on my clit, his eyes
closing, his fingers moving within my body. A steady drag
in and out, his tongue pulsing against my clit, and I watch,
helpless, unable to look away. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve
ever seen. As if I’m starring in my own personal porn
video. I strain toward my release. Searching for it. Seeking
it. Oh God, it’s almost there—
His tongue hits a particular rhythm and that’s it. I thrust
my fingers into his hair, tangling my fingers in the silky
strands as I hold him in place. My entire body shuddering
as I cry out, rubbing my pussy against his face. He
continues his attack, drawing the orgasm out of me until
I’m a shaking, incomprehensible mess. I’m babbling, I
swear there are tears streaking down my face and when
he pulls away from me, I really do feel like crying.
“Wait! Don’t leave,” I protest, but he ignores me.
When I hear the unmistakable clank of a belt coming
undone, I literally moan in anticipation, my body still strung
tight. He thrusts inside me with a groan, furiously fucking
me. His moves are so powerful, he’s pushing me across
the desk. The papers catch beneath me, crinkling noisily
and something spills onto the floor. Pens, maybe?
I don’t know. I don’t care.
He fucks and fucks, and when I crack my eyes open, I
watch in fascination as a myriad of emotions cross his
handsome, tightly concentrating face. His hands are
braced on the edge of the desk as his hips shift and move,
his cock nudging a spot deep within me that has me
moaning.
“Can’t fuck you out of my system,” he says, each word
accompanying a thrust. “Don’t think I want to.”
A laugh leaves me, I can’t help it, and when I look at
him, he’s smiling.
Actually smiling at me.
The smile fades fast, replaced by that intense
concentration that comes over him as his orgasm draws
near. His movements become out of control, sloppy. He
grunts with every thrust, his hips slapping against mine just
as he comes to a stop, an agonized groan sounding from
deep in his chest as he spills inside me.
Again, no condom, but I don’t even care. He feels so
good, bare and hot inside me. And I’ve never been fucked
on a desk before. By my intensely sexy boss.
There are lots of things I haven’t done before, not until I
met Grant.
Chapter Ten
Grant

I’m not even going to bother denying it to myself or to

anyone else any longer. Facts are facts.
And I am obsessed with this woman.
Completely and utterly obsessed.
The moment I banished the princess to her tower—
AKA her Brooklyn apartment—I missed her like some sort
of lovesick teenager. I’d visit Finn’s office, just to see her
empty desk. I’d glare at her eventual replacement, as if it’s
her fault that Alyssa wasn’t sitting there, ready to argue
with me when I tried to bust into my brother’s office.
It’s no one’s fault but mine that Alyssa wasn’t at work
anymore.
Finn resents me for sending her away. He was also
onto my game—he figured me out fast and knew that I’d
fucked his assistant. He asked me about it, and I denied
the accusation, but I know…
He knows the truth.
Here I am again, fucking her on my desk with my own
assistant sitting in the next room, and I don’t give a shit.
Did Astor hear me? Hear us?
Who cares? I think I’m in love.
Oh fuck.
A sobering thought.
Alyssa is currently putting herself back together as best
she can, sans the tights, since I tore the fuckers to shreds.
The dress is back in place and she’s sitting on the small
couch on the far side of the room, slipping the boots back
on. Looking sexy as fuck with a slightly mussed ponytail
and lipstick wiped clean from her lips, thanks to my mouth.
“You’re coming back to work here as soon as you get
your license,” I tell her. “Even if you fail the test, you’re
coming back. Finn misses you.”
I miss you.
I don’t say it. Not out loud.
Worry fills her eyes. “Do you think I’m going to fail?”
“Hell no,” I say, not wanting her to freak out. “You’re
smart. You already passed the practice test. You’ll do fine.”
She sags with relief, zips up the other boot and then
rises to her feet, brushing her hands down her skirt. “Do I
look all right?”
It took me two seconds to make myself presentable.
Slowly I approach her, sneaking one arm around her waist
and yanking her to me. “You’re stunning.”
I press my lips to hers, and she rests her hands on my
chest, lightly shoving me away.
What the hell?
“Grant—we need to discuss what we’re doing.”
We study each other, and I find myself getting lost in
her dark eyes, and all the emotion I see swirling there.
Maybe it’s not love—yet—but damn, I like her. A lot. I
missed her terribly. I want to be with her all the time, and
not just sexually. I like her attitude. Her mouth. The things
she says.
The way she’s looking at me right now, as if I could
change everything for her with a few choice words.
“We’re going to give this a try,” I tell her, my voice light.
As if we’re making casual conversation when, really, I’m
altering my entire universe.
And hers too.
“Give what a try?”
“Us.”
 “Oh?” Her brows shoot up, and she curls her fingers
around the lapels of my jacket, ruining the clean lines. I’m
a stickler for clean lines. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s the best fucking idea I’ve had in years.” I let
my hand wander, slipping down to smooth over the lush
curve of her ass. “We should have dinner tonight.
Together.”
“It’s not even lunchtime yet,” she says with a grin.
“I already had lunch.” I’m referring to her delectable
pussy. My mouth waters just thinking about it. “Might need
a snack later.”
From my suggestive tone, I know she gets what I’m
talking about.
“You’re bad,” she murmurs.
“You like it.” I dip my head, my mouth about to devour
hers when there’s a clicking sound, like a lock being
undone.
My office door swings open, revealing my brother
standing there, an incredulous look on his face as he takes
us in. Alyssa in my arms, my mouth mere inches from
touching hers.
“Ah Jesus. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your
hands off her.” Finn points at me. “If you fire her, I’m going
to kick your ass.”
“I’m not going to fire her.” I snuggle her close, and she
tucks herself just beneath my chin. Fuck, who am I right
now? “She’s going to be the best damn agent we have at
this place. Just watch.”
“Damn, you okay, brother? You don’t sound like
yourself.” Finn’s smile is way too big. Smug and knowing
too, the dick. “And you look all lovey-dovey and shit.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I mutter, and Finn slams the
door before I can say anything else.
“Do you really think I’ll be the best real estate agent at
the company?” she asks once Finn is gone.
She sounds so unsure of herself, which is unlike the
Alyssa I usually see.
“You can be whatever you want. You’re smart. You’re
driven and focused. I recognized those qualities in you
from the start,” I tell her, meaning every single word I say.
“Really?” The doubt in her voice is obvious.
“That and you have an ass I can’t help but grab.” I
squeeze it with both of my hands.
“Grant. Focus.” She jerks on my tie, pulling my face
down into hers. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t either,” I say truthfully. “Fair warning, I’m a
complete asshole sometimes.”
She arches a brow. “Sometimes?”
“All the time,” I practically growl. “But for some reason,
you seem to like me.”
“I like you.” She smiles just before I kiss her. “A lot.”
I cup her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin.
“Think Astor heard us earlier?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks go pink. “Maybe?”
“Can you be quiet this time around?”
I’m growing hard just thinking about sliding back inside
her welcoming body.
“Depends on what you have in mind.” Her tone is
saucy. Her eyes are sparkling and full of mischief.
“Just you wait and see.” I grab hold of her perfect ass
once again, pulling her in so she can feel what she does to
me. “No way are you working for Finn ever again.”
“Why not?”
“He’s the wrong brother for you.” I press my mouth to
hers. “I’m the right one.”
“Yes, you most definitely are,” Alyssa says with a smile.
Just before she grabs my junk like she owns it.
 ***

I hope you enjoyed Grant and Alyssa’s quick and hot

romance!
Like dark bully romance set at a prep school? Read Crew
Lancaster’s story now!
A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime

Also, you can read Charlotte Lancaster’s story The

Reluctant Bride, available April 19th!
Also by Monica Murphy
Standalone
Things I Wanted To Say (but never did)
A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime

The Arranged Marriage

The Reluctant Bride

College Years
The Freshman
The Sophomore
The Junior
The Senior

Dating Series
Save The Date
Fake Date
Holidate
Hate to Date You
Rate A Date
Wedding Date
Blind Date
The Callahans
Close to Me
Falling For Her
Addicted To Him
Meant To Be
Fighting For You
Making Her Mine
A Callahan Wedding

Forever Yours Series

You Promised Me Forever
Thinking About You
Nothing Without You

Damaged Hearts Series

Her Defiant Heart
His Wasted Heart
Damaged Hearts

Friends Series
Just Friends
More Than Friends
Forever

The Never Duet

Never Tear Us Apart
 Never Let You Go

The Rules Series

Fair Game
In The Dark
Slow Play
Safe Bet

The Fowler Sisters Series

Owning Violet
Stealing Rose
Taming Lily

Reverie Series
His Reverie
Her Destiny

Billionaire Bachelors Club Series

Crave
Torn
Savor
Intoxicated

One Week Girlfriend Series

One Week Girlfriend
Second Chance Boyfriend
 Three Broken Promises
Drew + Fable Forever
Four Years Later
Five Days Until You
A Drew + Fable Christmas

Standalone YA Titles
Daring The Bad Boy
Saving It
Pretty Dead Girls
About the Author
Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today and
international bestselling author. Her books have been
translated in almost a dozen languages and have sold
millions of copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published
and independently published author, she writes young
adult and new adult romance, as well as contemporary
romance and women’s fiction. She’s also known as USA
Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.
Copyright © 2022 by Monica Murphy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
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without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or
locales, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design: Emily Wittig

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Editor: Rebecca, Fairest Reviews Editing Services