A lump rises in my throat as my phone vibrates again. Another message from Carson. Apparently this meeting he wants to arrange is urgent.
God, please strike me down now.
Irrationally, I find myself cursing the fact that I won’t be able to get the billionaire in my bed once I’m fired.
Bracing myself, I decide to face the music and deal with Carson in whatever way I am able. I have no doubt that as soon as I step into his office he’ll tear me limb from limb, but at this rate, I’m only delaying the inevitable. I stand up from my office chair, my legs feeling like jelly as I walk towards the door. A funeral march plays in my head, and it’s all I can do to not burst into tears.
The walk to Mr. Sharpe’s office seems both agonizingly long and far too short. There’s silence on the upper floor, and I realize that most of the other employees on this level have departed for their lunch break. Thoughts of him having me right there and then creep up on me unexpectedly, and I laugh almost hysterically at how inappropriate they are.
“Quit being ridiculous, Aimee,” I whisper to myself, pausing outside the door to Carson’s office. The door seems to loom over me, large and imposing. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m walking to my doom, but I’m borderline hysterical at this point. Scratch the borderline part—I’m entirely hysterical, and internally lamenting the fact that if I had just kept my mouth shut in that first meeting, I wouldn’t be in this position.
In another lifetime, I could be in my simple marketing internship, happy as a clam to have the chance of a lifetime. Now, in one fell swoop (or more precisely, with the tap of a single button) I’ve thrown my entire future into the garbage.
I can only hope that Mr. Sharpe will find enough kindness in his heart to let me down gently. He holds the power in his hands to see that I never land another job in real estate, marketing, or the entire Seattle area. God only knows how far his reach extends. I would have to move back to Colfax. Everything would be over.
Swallowing my fear, I knock lightly on the door, then grip the doorknob and step inside.
Chapter Six
Carson
Wondering what has my sweet little Aimee looking so melancholy as she steps into my office, I offer her a warm smile that she nervously returns. I gesture towards the chair directly in front of my desk, looking away from the computer screen to study her face. She quakes slightly, and now that I can see her closely, I can see that she looks vaguely ill. I can only guess what has her so troubled, but it’s of little consequence for the time being.
“Aimee, I’m glad you could come and see me,” I say warmly. She laughs, and it’s an awkward sound, but an endearing one.
My eyes follow her every move, every quake of her body, the slight pout of her lips. She sits in the chair I’d gestured to, and it strikes me all at once how dearly I’d missed this young woman over the past week. I had been wrapped up so tightly in work that I’d had little time to indulge in our game.
The desire to toy with her is strikingly absent as I take in her nervous movements. Am I the source of her anxiety? Have I been pushing her too far? I can only hope that my peace offering will soothe her, though it hadn’t been intended as such.
“Sorry I took so long to reply to your message. I was, um, swept up in work,” she quietly explains, seeming to have no idea what to do with her hands as they fidget on the top of my desk. I can’t help observing her with a small smile, which she seems all too aware of. “What is it that you need, Mr. Sharpe?” she inquires, almost too softly to hear.
I reach out across the desk to rest my hand atop one of hers in what I hope is a comforting gesture. She starts at first, but relaxes into the touch and smiles sincerely for the first time since she entered my office.
“It’s perfectly fine. I actually had a small inquiry, in regards to the work you’ve been doing,” I begin, and her smile falters. I quickly move to reassure her. “You’ve been working very hard; that much is obvious. I think a vacation of sorts would serve you well.” I pause, gauging her reaction. She appears troubled and confused, so I tighten my grip on her hand.
“A vacation?” she repeats with uncertainty in her voice.
“I was hoping you could join me on a business trip. I know it’s not what most would consider a vacation, but—” I begin, cut short by a squeal of delight. Aimee turns those wide and soulful eyes upon me, and my heart begins to pound in my chest.
“I’d love to join you, Carson,” she replies with a broad smile, holding her hand to her chest. I make a valiant attempt to keep my eyes focused on her face.
When I force my eyes back up, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s considering me with a hard-to-read look, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Seems I’ve been caught in the act, but she doesn’t appear to be too bothered by the fact that I’m ogling her. Just the opposite, as a matter of fact.
“Wonderful. I’ll be closing a deal in Russia, and if everything goes as planned, my employees can plan to see a substantial raise,” I announce grandly, and she looks briefly hesitant, her lips parting as if to speak. However, she simply snaps her mouth closed and smiles.
“That’s amazing. I’ve never been to Russia before. I have to say I’m excited, even though this is probably just another day in the office for you,” she giggles.
My heart swells, and I rest my elbows on top of my desk, leaning in to speak softly.
“Oh, even I’m not as fortunate to close a deal of this magnitude very often. And the fact that you’ll be there makes the trip all the more exciting,” I say with a cheeky smile. She titters, burying her face in her hands in an attempt to mask her embarrassment. “So, to celebrate the deal and your first trip to Russia, maybe you’d like to join me for dinner this evening?” I ask casually.
Aimee draws her face out of her hands, watching me with a shy smile.
“Sounds like a plan,” she readily agrees.
“It’s a date, then,” I begin, pausing to glance at the time. “Oh, dear. I’m sorry to have kept you from your lunch break. Finish up what you were taking care of in your office, and take the rest of the day off. I’ll see you this evening,” I say with a grin.
That slightly worried expression crosses her face once more, but she nods and rises to her feet. She pauses, considering me fondly.
“See you this evening, Carson,” she murmurs, turning her back on me and slipping out of my office.
Shaking off thoughts of the possibilities, I return my attention to my computer, searching for the number of my favorite Italian restaurant downtown. Placing a call and making a reservation for the best table in the exclusive venue, I tuck my phone back in my pocket.
A smile tugs at my lips as I lean back in my office chair. I expect tonight to be one of the best nights I’ve had in some time.
After an uneventful afternoon, I leave my office as the clock strikes six thirty, giving myself a bit of extra time to change before picking up my date.
At least, I’d like to consider her my date for the evening. At the same time, I feel a bit of guilt at the idea of taking advantage of the young intern. However, when she so clearly wants me, it seems difficult to think of it as taking advantage.
In my previous experience, dating employees has never ended well. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, though. Her desire for me may be obvious, but it’s less clear whether Aimee sees me as anything more than a conquest. I’m not one to have self-doubt often, but Aimee brings out a new side of me, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Pulling into the lot, I walk briskly towards the elevator to my penthouse apartment. I keep an eye on my watch as the elevator moves up through the numerous floors. I’ll have to move quickly if I plan to pick Aimee up on time, and I have no intention of standing her up. As soon as the elevator reaches the correct floor, I stride into my apartment.
Taking a brief moment to sift through my wardrobe, I grab something refined yet more casual than my work attire. I then walk into the bathroom, spraying on some cologne and
swiftly changing clothes. As I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize I look more excited than I have in…hell, possibly years.
Checking my watch a final time, I rush back to the elevator and to the parking lot. I bypass my everyday car, moving to where my black sports car sits in its usual spot. I reserve this car for special occasions, and if this isn’t a special occasion, I’m not sure what is.
The trip to Aimee’s apartment is a short one, especially traveling at twenty miles over the speed limit. Pulling in front of the apartment complex, I text Aimee to let her know I’ve arrived. I step out of the car, circling around to wait for her.
When she steps out of the building, my breath catches in my throat. She’s dressed in a simple black cocktail dress, and though it’s not an extravagant garment, I’m certain that I’ve never seen anyone so attractive in my life.
“I didn’t know what was appropriate—is this okay?” she inquires shyly. I nod fervently, unable to find my voice for a long moment.
“You look beautiful. I’ve made reservations at Luigi’s,” I say, feeling bizarrely nervous. Her eyes widen, and she wrings her hands nervously.
“Isn’t that the super expensive place downtown? I’m not sure I can afford…” She trails off as I bark out a laugh, pulling open the passenger-side door for her.
“It’s on me tonight,” I say resolutely. Aimee looks as if she might argue, but she simply steps forward to grab me in a tight embrace before sliding into the car. I try to ignore the reddening of my cheeks, hoping it’s not as obvious as it feels.
Luigi’s is packed to the gills as usual, but we’re taken to our table in short order. Aimee is looking around the place with a sense of wonderment in her gaze, and my heart swells.
“I feel so out of place, here. Everyone is so well-dressed,” she chuckles, smiling sweetly as I pull out her chair. I pause, leaning in closer to her.
“Well, I think we make quite the pair ourselves, don’t you?” I breathe into her ear. She reddens, and I circle around to my seat, waving down a waiter to order a bottle of wine.
I pretend not to see how wide Aimee’s eyes grow when she sees the price list, and I waste no time ordering the finest vintage they have available. I plan to make this evening as enjoyable as I can.
“I certainly don’t fit in here. You’re the most handsome man in this place by far, but little old me?” She smiles coyly, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh, please, Aimee. You’re absolutely gorgeous. Everyone is probably wondering what you’re doing with a geezer like me,” I retort. She looks taken aback before letting out a laugh that is decidedly loud and unladylike, and I find myself even further enamored with her.
“You’re ridiculous. You’ve just got experience under your belt; no woman in her right mind would complain about that,” she teases. The waiter pours our wine, leaving the bottle and taking our dinner order. “I certainly don’t mind,” Aimee continues as he walks off.
I’m unable to smother the smug little grin that curls over my lips, and she looks adorably pleased with herself.
“Well, experience does go a long way in the real estate world,” I say, playing oblivious to her true meaning. She hums softly in acknowledgement, sipping her wine.
For the first time, she seems entirely at ease in my company. What I would give to have her look so happy every time we’re together.
When our food arrives, the banter between us slows a bit. She savors her food, and I savor her company.
“That was delicious. You really are too good to me, Carson. There has to be some way I can pay you back,” she says as she finishes her meal. She dabs at her perfect pink mouth with a napkin, her lips curled into a smirk.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize what she’s implying, but I can’t help feeling hesitant. I meet her gaze, pursing my lips as I struggle to formulate a response.
Do I want to sleep with her? God, yes. Of course I do; any man with a bit of sense would love to have her. I just don’t want to be the dirtbag I’ve been in the past. I’ve had enjoyable flings, sure, but I’ve never really felt a connection like I feel with Aimee. I don’t want to take advantage of her infatuation with me.
I brace myself to tell her as much, but the desire in her eyes is sending a very distracting tingle throughout my body.
If I refuse her, that might just make her want me more, so how do I handle this?
Chapter Seven
Aimee
Carson is obviously torn by my proposition, and I appreciate that, to an extent. However, when he looks as if he’s ready to let me down gently, I reach out to rest my hand atop his. His parted lips close, and he looks at our joined hands. I curl my fingers around his, stroking my thumb against the back of his hand.
“Something is bothering you,” I murmur, and he exhales sharply.
He shifts his hand to grip my own, meeting my gaze earnestly. The warmth of his touch sends pleasant tingles through my body, and I draw my eyes upwards with an easy smile.
“Am I that obvious?” he asks, looking entirely displeased with his transparency. I chuckle, idly stroking his hand as I grow hyper-aware of the people surrounding us.
“Is it that you’re not attracted to me?” I inquire hesitantly, not sure I want to hear the answer.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head fervently. I smother a giggle, trailing off into a quiet gasp as he raises my hand to his lips. He brushes his lips across the back of my knuckles, and I watch the subtly shifting emotions that cross his face.
“Of course not. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he breathes, resting his cheek against my palm.
I take the cue to cup his cheek, caressing my thumb against the slightly stubbly skin there. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, lips curled in a soft smile.
“I’ve never been as attracted to a woman in my life,” he says with ease, and in spite of myself, I hold no doubt that he is being sincere. I can only wonder what troubles him about my advances when he seems so at ease in my company.
“Then what’s bothering you?” I ask, giving voice to the thought.
He draws away from my touch, keeping his grip on my hand. It’s almost comical how large his hands are in comparison to mine, but I focus on his face. He appears to be heavily weighing his options, seeming to debate whether to be upfront about what, precisely, is on his mind.
“Come on, Carson. We’re past the point of being shy around each other, wouldn’t you say? You can tell me what’s on your mind,” I assure him. He seems to consider my words, breathing a sigh.
“I just don’t want to be some sleazeball boss,” he mutters, and I tilt my head, encouraging him to continue. “I’ve dated employees before. It’s never gone well. Granted, I’ve never felt as enamored as I feel with you…” he trails off.
A brief surge of jealousy washes over me, but I realize that there is little I can do but take him for his word. I can only believe him when he says I’m somehow different.
Granted, since I first met him, it’s become clear that it isn’t his first time around the block. While I can only hope I present something new and exciting, I can only muse that Carson could have any woman he desired. Then again, perhaps that’s what makes this so special. The fact that he’s chosen me.
Carson seems sincere in his desire to treat me as an equal, and not as though I were just any woman he’s encountered previously. I have no doubts regarding how intensely I want him, and it’s obvious from the dark desire in his eyes that he wants me just as badly.
“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t suggest…” I trail off, not wanting to be awfully blunt in the crowded restaurant. I’ve never exactly considered an older man sexy before, never been with someone more than two years older than me, but I find that I’m tempted to make an exception for Carson Sharpe. “I want you,” I say more quietly, putting as much feeling as I possibly can in my assertion.
He lifts a brow, looking vaguely taken aback.
“I just want to be ce
rtain that you’re sure,” he says quietly. “I don’t want you to regret this. If we were to return to work, unable to face each other…I don’t know that I could properly handle that.”
I chuckle softly, meeting his gaze with an expression that I can only hope conveys how strongly I feel.
“Nothing could make me regret being with you, Carson. I have confidence that we’ll manage to keep things professional at work, regardless of what happens between us,” I murmur.
Seemingly convinced, he looks at me with barely concealed desire.
“All right. What do you say we get out of here, then?” he suggests, flagging down the waiter.
He places a wad of cash in the younger man’s hands, telling him to keep the change. The waiter’s eyes widen, as if he’s never seen that much money in his life. Hell, I’m sure he hasn’t. Carson slides out of his chair, offering me his arm with a sly smile. I can see the arousal glimmering in his eyes, and I try to contain my own excitement.
It’s really happening. I’m going to sleep with my gorgeous billionaire boss, Carson Sharpe. I never could have expected this. Even now, as he guides me to his luxurious car, I can only wonder how I’ve come to this point.
All of my willpower is required to stop myself from locking lips with him as soon as we’re seated in the car. I reach out, resting my hand on his thigh. He breathes a shuddering sigh, curling his hands around the steering wheel.
“Is my place all right?” he asks quietly, and I pretend to consider the question very deeply as I stroke my hand up and down his inner thigh.
He tenses, and my eyes nearly bulge from my head as I take in the size of his member, which is now straining against his slacks. My hand quakes on his leg, and I try to control myself, try to keep a hold on the situation.
The Boss's New Plaything Page 4
