Unsatiated with Dad's Best Friend: Taboo Romance

by Ami Snow

  My stomach dropped.

  Unusual indeed.

  End of Book 1

  WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY

  Please ensure this ebook is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.

   Copyright 2014 by A.J Madison - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Royal’s Reputation

  An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 2

  By: A.J Madison

  The Royal’s Reputation

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth

  Elizabeth,

  Mr. Sharpe wants to see you in his office. I told him you would go there as soon as you were back at your desk. Please let me know how the meeting goes, it’s very unusual for him to meet with interns.

  I stared at the email, my fingers trembling. If I looked at it long enough, perhaps it would magically disappear. It would become just a normal email from my boss, maybe asking to see my notes from the meeting that morning. Or wanting to discuss the meeting itself—which would be terrible, since I honestly couldn’t remember a thing they’d talked about. All I could think about was the fact that the Ethan I had uncharacteristically taken home from a bar was actually Ethan Sharpe, the CEO of the company that I was interning for.

  It didn’t disappear or transform. The email stayed as it was, mocking me from the screen of my computer with its sharp, crisp text. I knew I needed to get moving. Ethan might have been a perfectly amiable man, but I suspected that Mr. Sharpe was far less patient. And I couldn’t jeopardize my job.

  My job. I repeated the phrase in my head over and over as I followed my boss’s directions to the CEO’s office. It was on the first floor of the building, and I watched each number on the elevator panel light up with increasing trepidation as it rose higher and higher.

  My heels tapped on the tile floor as I walked down the long hallway, to the imposing desk in front of his office door where his secretary sat. She looked up at me, her eyes narrow.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  I tried to keep my voice steady, as if I belonged here. As if I routinely came up to see Mr. Ethan Sharpe in his office.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Sharpe. He’s asked me to give him a rundown of the meeting this morning.” My voice was cool and confident, as I’d hoped it would be, and I curled my fingers into my palms, hoping to maintain my composure.

  She raised a well-groomed eyebrow, and reached for the phone on her desk. “Mr. Sharpe? Yes a…” she glanced at me. “What did you say your name was, ma’am?”

  “Elizabeth Matthews,” I answered politely, keeping my face neutral.

  “Ms. Matthews is here. From the meeting this morning. Yes, she said you requested to see her. Very well, sir.” She set the phone down and nodded. “Go ahead.”

  I reached for the doorknob, hoping my fingers weren’t shaking too badly. I took one step into the room and closed it behind me. Ethan was sitting there at the desk, a pile of papers in front of him, an untouched cup of coffee at his elbow. He looked up, saw me, and I could have sworn a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth for just an instant.

  It was gone just as quickly.

  “Elizabeth.” I had forgotten how deep his voice could be. He motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit down.”

  I sat.

  He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “So, Elizabeth, I see two different possibilities here. One is that you saw me at the bar, knew I was the CEO of the company you were interning for, and decided that sleeping with me would boost your chances of success.”

  I felt myself go white, and opened my mouth to protest. He held up a quick finger—he wasn’t done.

  “Or, you had no idea who I was. That option means that you’re an intern who doesn’t do her research on the company she’s about to start working for, but not someone who tries to sleep her way to the top. I’m guessing it’s the latter, although that disappoints me…you seemed much smarter than that.” His expression was stern, and I wanted desperately to wilt into my chair and disappear. Instead, just as I had done in the meeting that morning, I sat up straighter in my chair, and looked Ethan directly in the eye, desperately trying not to think of what he looked like naked. I’d seen every inch of this man’s body, let him do incredibly intimate things to me, and now he was chastising me from the other side of his grand desk. It was beyond humiliating.

  “Mr. Sharpe,” I began, and I gathered a small bit of confidence from the way his eyebrow rose slightly. Clearly he hadn’t expected me to be so professional. I kept going, hoping my nerve would hold. “I did, indeed do my research on this company. I knew the CEO’s name, but you introduced yourself to me only as Ethan, which is a common name, and didn’t tell me enough about your business dealings for me to guess that you were a CEO at all, let alone at the same company. D.C. is a large city, and “business” can mean many different things. I will admit that I did not look for a picture or other information about the CEO of this company, instead, I spent more time researching the people that I would be directly working for, since I doubted I would ever have the opportunity to meet the CEO, being a lowly intern.”

  He looked for a moment as if he were about to speak, but I plowed forward. “I would never have sex with someone to further my career, Mr. Sharpe. I assure you, had I known who you were, I would have politely thanked you for the drink, and wished you a good night. This internship and my reputation are very important to me, and I wish to tarnish neither of them by improper behavior.”

  I stopped for a moment, and then continued. “I also think, Mr. Sharpe, that you are not the kind of man who wants to be known as someone who screws the interns. I think we can mutually agree that it is better to forget about this unfortunate incident, and move on without mention of it again.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest; I could feel a lump in my throat. I knew he could fire me on the spot, send me packing back to the university without a question. I knew my high ground was actually on a very slippery slope, and I hoped he would respond quickly.

  He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes appraising me. Finally, he spoke.

  “You’re right, Ms. Matthews. I don’t screw the interns, as you so crassly put it. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, you’re new to all of this, and you meant well in your research of the company, I’m sure. Your boss speaks highly of you, and I think you will continue to be an asset to the company.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sharpe.” I waited for a second, and then stood. “If you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do today still.”

  “Of course.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Have a good day, Ms. Matthews.”

  “You as well.” I turned and walked towards the door, careful to keep my pace measured and steady, although I wanted to run and fling myself headlong out into the hall. Just as I reached the door, I heard him call my name. “Elizabeth!”

  I froze, my fingers on the knob. I said nothing, my heart pounding.

  “Was it really so unfortunate?” His tone was muted, questioning.

  His mouth between my legs, his tongue hot and pliable, the pleasure more intense than anything I’d ever felt before in my life.

  The sound of him gasping in my ear as he lost control, pressing me down into the carpet, his whole body trembling as he came.

  His hand, hot and strong under my thigh as he picked my leg up and thrust into me, the hot water drenching us both.

  I took a deep breath. “Yes, Mr. Sharpe. Unfortunate.” I turned the knob then and walked out, shutting the
door without looking behind me.

  ***

  Ethan

  I watched her leave, nursing a sense of frustration and hurt that was entirely unusual for me. Unfortunate? Had she really just used that word to describe the night she’d taken me home to her house? I could think of many words to describe that encounter, but unfortunate wasn’t one of them. Hot. Sexy. Mind-blowing. Those were words I might use to describe it. But not unfortunate.

  I believed her when she said that she hadn’t known who I was. It was a rookie mistake, a common thing for student interns to do. They researched just enough to answer the boilerplate questions in the interview, and then they stopped there. She’d have known my full name, but not what I looked like.

  I imagined what might have happened if I’d told her my full name that night at the bar. She’d have turned pink, stammered, and held out her hand for me to shake, maybe? She might have said how excited she was to work for the company, or what a pleasure it was to meet me.

  No, I didn’t think that was Elizabeth’s style. She had a great presence of mind for a girl her age. She would have raised an eyebrow, smiled, and thanked me for the drinks. Then she would have returned to her table and her friends, and left me there at the bar.

  I wouldn’t have had her up against the door, or on her knees. I wouldn’t have found out what she tasted like while she writhed on the carpet underneath me. I wouldn’t have fucked her in the shower.

  My body responded to that line of thinking with a surge of lust, and I looked down at my lap with an expression of frustration.

  No, Elizabeth hadn’t known what she was doing that night…or whom. But she was definitely making my life a whole lot more difficult as a result.

  ***

  Chapter 2

  Elizabeth

  Once back at my desk, I sent a quick email to my boss. I made up an excuse for the meeting, saying that he had wanted to introduce himself to the intern who had sat in on the meeting in the morning. I told her he had given me some tips for success at the firm, and that it had all been very brief and businesslike. She didn’t seem to be suspicious, as the email that came into my inbox later was entirely positive.

  Elizabeth,

  Mr. Sharpe rarely speaks with interns, so this is good news for you! He approves all new hires post-internship, so this means you are a step ahead. Keep distinguishing yourself in the intern pool and I think you will have a bright future here.

  A bright future indeed. I tried to picture my career after graduation here. I’d be sitting in on meetings with Ethan, avoiding him in the hallways, pitching ideas to him. I wondered if the awkwardness would fade with time, if it would become just a forgotten misstep, or if I would forever feel as if I’d done something terrible, stepped over a line that I shouldn’t cross.

  The really infuriating thing about all of it was that we had both done the exact same thing—unknowingly slept with someone inappropriate. If it came out, though, only I would be blamed. I would be the conniving woman who tried to sleep her way to the top, and Ethan would get away with it. He didn’t need to get to the top, after all—he was already there.

  I knew, although I didn’t want to admit it, that the misstep of sleeping with Ethan would result in this not being somewhere I could hope to be employed. The best I could do was continue working hard during my internship so that I could get a good letter of recommendation and employment elsewhere. I hoped I could get offers, so that I would have a reason to turn down any offer that might come from this company.

  For that matter, I had no idea if Ethan would even approve an offer of employment made to me. Surely he didn’t want me here in his building, a constant reminder that he’d foolishly had sex with me. I resolutely looked at my list of tasks for the day, determining that I needed to stop thinking about it. There was nothing to be done now except to keep pushing forward.

  The rest of my week passed without incident, as did the next. I wasn’t invited to attend any more meetings, and although I worried sometimes that it was a mark of my performance, I was also secretly relieved. I didn’t want to see Ethan. It was all I could do to stop from thinking about him sometimes, and when I saw the other interns whispering it made me anxious. I knew it wasn’t rational to think that they somehow knew—there was no way for anyone to know, but I still worried. I heard my boss mention in passing to her co-worker that Ethan had shown up to multiple meetings the past two weeks, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “He hardly ever attends meetings unless there’s a big merger or something else coming up. I wonder what could possibly be going on.”

  “I have no idea.” I heard the co-worker respond. “It isn’t like him at all. Doesn’t it make you nervous, not knowing when he’s going to pop in? At least his visits used to be pretty regular—once every two months or so…”

  Their voices faded down the hall, and I couldn’t hear anything else of their conversation. I let that bit of information sink in. Ethan had been going to meetings—something that was out of character for him, apparently. I knew without too much thought what it must mean—he was hoping to see me. I supposed he couldn’t just call me to his office without questions. It would seem strange for him to be paying too much attention to one of the interns.

  I hadn’t been asked to attend any more meetings. I had been drowning in work anyway, so I hadn’t really thought about it very much until exactly that moment. If anything, I had been a little bit disappointed that I hadn’t had the opportunity to sit in again. Now I just felt relieved. If I had gone, I would have had to see Ethan again.

  And this was the problem—and the reason why I was certain this firm would no longer be a potential landing spot for me after graduation. I shouldn’t be grateful to be missing the opportunities to sit in on meetings, simply because there was a man I didn’t want to see. I needed to be pushing forward, plowing ahead. I resolved then and there to spend the weekend at home, recharging, and then to come in to work on Monday morning and speak to my boss about sitting in on meetings again. I couldn’t allow myself to fall behind.

  So, when Catherine and Billie inevitably asked me to join them that night, I said no. Instead, I waved them out the door and poured myself a glass of red wine, changing into my fleece-lined pajama pants and favorite worn-in college tee, and curled up in bed with one of my books. The room was warm and quiet, and despite myself, I felt my eyes closing about thirty minutes into my reading. I didn’t even realize that I had drifted off until I heard my phone chime, and I opened my eyes, pushing the book that had fallen onto my chest away.

  Ethan, read the name on the text message.

  My heart leapt into my throat at the same time that my stomach sank, and I felt a little sick. I debated for a moment if I should delete it without reading it. That would be the wise, adult, professional thing to do.

  But I also knew that I would wonder forever what it said if I didn’t open it.

  So I did.

  It was just one line. I can’t stop thinking about you. The words leapt off of the screen, and for a sudden moment I felt elated, joyful. He wanted me. He hadn’t forgotten me.

  And then I remembered that he was my boss in the highest possibly capacity, and the excitement died. I was not a girl happy that a boy had texted her. I couldn’t be that person in this circumstance. I needed to be the professional woman who looked out for herself first.

  I think you’ve gotten the wrong number. I texted back.

  A few moments later, my phone chimed again.

  Elizabeth?

  I wondered if I should play dumb, suggest that he really did have the wrong number. Would he hunt me down at work, demand to have the right one? Or would it end this nonsense for good?

  Finally, I sent back: Yes. But you shouldn’t be texting me.

  Have you forgotten about me?

  I sighed audibly, as if he could hear me. No, I typed back. It’s hard to forget the man who occupies the highest position in the company you work for.

  What about the night at the
bar?

  I didn’t know who you were then. And you didn’t know who I was. Things were different.

  I just want to talk to you. Somewhere that isn’t work.

  What could we possibly have to talk about? We made a mistake.

  It wasn’t a mistake, Elizabeth.

  I think that it qualifies on every level as a mistake, Mr. Sharpe.

  Please meet me, Elizabeth. Just a drink, even. I need to see…to talk to you.

  I paused, my fingers hovering over the letters. Part of me desperately wanted to take him up on his offer. That was the part of me that still remembered the way his hands felt on my skin, the way his lips skimmed across my mouth. The part of me that was particularly attached to my tiny cubicle and piles of papers knew that I should shut him down until he gave up.

  I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see him again. I knew with every fiber of myself that it was a bad idea, but in the pause between his last text and the one I was about to send, I convinced myself that it would be easier to turn him down in person. That I could explain, face-to-face, why we absolutely had to put that night behind us.

  I will meet you for coffee, I typed. Tomorrow morning at 9:30. I gave the name of a coffee shop near my house.

  See you then, was all he wrote back.

  ***

  When I walked into the coffee shop the next morning, he was there already, seated on the far side. He was wearing chinos and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, a leather jacket hung on the back of his chair. The shirt looked soft, worn-in. I wondered if he particularly liked that shirt, or if he had bought it that way.

  I’d dressed down on purpose, wearing black leggings and a long grey merino wool sweater with a hood, and slouchy black boots, a thick plaid scarf wrapped around my neck. I pulled the cable-knit beanie I was wearing off of my head, and my hair tumbled out. I heard him breathe in sharply.