Whisper

by Rose Middleton

  “So what do you think I do then?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t talk while you do that.”

  Roxanne paused. “Answer me.”

  “You’re always dressed in short skirts and heels that make a man’s mouth water, so I figured you were in fashion.”

  She grinned and tightened her grip on him. “Nice guess.” She had no intention of correcting him.

  “What about me?” he groaned.

  With her other hand, she rubbed his chest and tweaked his hard nipples. “Well, Mr. High-Powered-Business-Suit, I figure you’re either a banker or a lawyer. You like to be in control and you’ve got a great poker face. You’re articulate and smart and, damn it, you look hot in a suit.”

  He smiled briefly but then gave into the motion of her hand and pumped his hips. For a moment he went stiff before his hands shot out to brace against the tiles. Frenzied thrusts followed with an expression on his face that blended the pleasure and pain she knew gripped his body. With a throaty growl, he came, his hot cum squirting onto her belly.

  He stood with head bowed, hauling in deep breaths and pinning her with his stare from under long, thick eyelashes. Satisfied she’d paid him back for some of the night’s sensual torture, she giggled and reached to turn the showerhead on them. Before she succeeded, he pulled her back against his chest and began rubbing his cum over the skin of her belly.

  “Don’t wash it off. Wear me for the rest of the day.”

  His request shocked her, pleased her. She covered his hands with hers and followed his movements.

  “When you go to bed tonight, picture me. You and I are connected, Whisper, we’ll find each other in our dreams.”

  Chapter Two

  The instant he stepped into the reception of Taylor & Taylor Management Group on Monday morning, Jett wondered whether coming into work was a good idea at all.

  Professional footballer of the Australian Football League and longtime friend Greg O’Connor stood to greet him. Anxiety rolled off the fit six-footer in huge waves. The only time the footballers he managed came to him was when they were in trouble and he knew Greg well enough to know that look. He tucked away his exhaustion and smiled at Greg, shook his hand and invited him to wait in his office.

  “I take it you haven’t seen the newspapers this morning, Jett?”

  The familiar deep voice of Addison Taylor made Jett turn around. Even the old man seemed worried. “Not as yet.”

  “Well,” Addison nodded toward Jett’s office, “then I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you today. I don’t understand why you persist with them, really. With your talent, you should be catering to those who don’t have a penchant for punching nightclub bouncers.”

  Jett swallowed a groan. Again?

  “Whether you’re done with him by two this afternoon or not, you’re required in the boardroom. Your schedule has already been cleared and I want to start this week on a high note.”

  Jett blinked slowly. Whatever they were meeting about had to be important. “No problem.” He turned to go but Addison called him back.

  “I know I can’t insist on this but I want you to let Mr. O’Connor know that if his misbehavior continues then perhaps we’re not the firm to represent him. As far as public relations go, Greg O’Connor is a nightmare.”

  Addison was right on both counts but as Jett entered his office he acknowledged to himself the difficulty he’d face in detangling himself from Greg. They’d known each other since they were born. Not only were their mothers best friends but Jett’s mother had saved Greg’s mother’s life through the power of her healing magic. Greg knew all of Jett’s secrets.

  Well, all except one.

  Whisper.

  He fought the urge to grin at the thought of her and silently willed his body to settle down. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning, at least not in the flesh. As he’d promised, he’d found her while he dreamed, because their souls were connected. She might not have believed him when he told her but it was true. The divine lovemaking they shared in their dreams was as real as if they’d been there in the flesh.

  His body grew hard while he thought of her naked curves and willing surrender, and this time he gave in. Bathed in the sound of her low, husky voice, he remembered the pleasure and satisfaction they exchanged in the dream realm. Images flashed before his eyes. Whisper’s mouth descending on his cock, the spread of her wet pussy lips, the flare of her pupils every time he slid into her slick heat.

  An ache settled into his groin, the pulsing throb a reminder of how he craved her.

  “Jett?”

  He blinked and put the images away, though it wasn’t so easy to douse the erection. But it was time to dig his client out of trouble and he needed to think straight. “In your own words, Greg. Don’t give me any bullshit.”

  “It was self-defense, Jett. You know it. I’d never hit anyone without being provoked.”

  Jett set his briefcase down behind his desk, hung his coat on the rack. Once he was certain his erection wouldn’t show any longer, he faced Greg head-on. “I hate it when you lie to me. I mean, of all the people you could lie to, I shouldn’t be one of them. How the hell am I supposed to get you out of this mess?”

  Greg shrugged. “The coach wants to suspend me. Says I’m being a terrible role model.”

  Jett leaned on his desk but didn’t sit. He needed to take the high ground. “He’s right. Do you know how many young kids idolize you? You are more than a footballer, more than a sportsman. When are you going to get it through your thick, Neanderthal skull that you have a moral and social obligation that extends beyond the number of goals you kick and how many women you screw?”

  Slumping back in the chair, Greg clasped his hands over the buttons of his suit jacket and stared at feet shod in fine Italian leather. The man made oodles of money playing football and never once gave the responsibilities of his fame a second thought. “You couldn’t, like, weave a bit of that magic and make this all go away, could you?”

  Jett snapped straight, anger and dismay driving at his control. “Jesus, Greg. I can’t believe you just asked that. Shit. Listen, the boss wants me to drop your contract and if you keep going the way you are now, I might be tempted. Stop acting like a spoiled brat. Tell me what happened.”

  “I was talking to this chick while we were waiting to get into the club. Sweet little thing, she was. Best piece of ass I’ve seen in a long, long time. When we got to the door, the bouncer lets her in but not me. I ask him why, he says it’s because I’m a boring ball boy. I lost my temper, broke his nose.”

  Now Jett sat. He almost felt sorry for the bouncer.

  “I’m sorry, man, but honestly, no one dismisses the footy. You know that.”

  “Well it stops here.”

  His mind whirred with all the strategies open to him but they were fast running out of tricks. He’d almost need to pull a rabbit out of a hat to keep Greg off the front page and out of court. And he would not even consider the irony in that thought.

  “You need to let the coach do his thing. If the club wants to fine you, pay it. If they want to suspend you, take it like a man and support your team while you’re doing the time. In the meanwhile, we’re checking you into an anger management course and finding some sort of community service for you. And if the bouncer wants to charge you with assault, we’ll need a lawyer. This one is going to hurt, Greg.”

  Jett dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples. What he wouldn’t give to be back in that hotel room with his seductress. This might be the longest Monday morning on record and it did nothing for his bout of Monday-itis. Some days, mending PR nightmares like these, really did need a little magic.

  “That’s a lot of punishment. I punched a guy, Jett, that’s all. Why the hell do you want to send me to anger management?”

  Jett looked up to find Greg on his feet, hands balled into fists by his sides and fury painted bright red on the man’s face. Jett shook his head and pointed at him.
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br />   “That’s why. Take a good look at yourself, man.”

  “So, what? You’ll drop me, your best friend since forever, because I refuse to be disrespected? Some friend you are. You’re not even trying to see my side of this.”

  “What side? You have no side, Greg. You were in the wrong!”

  Greg shrugged. “If you’re not going to help me out then maybe I should fire this firm. We should never have mixed business with our friendship.”

  Jett sighed, too tired to argue. He’d used those exact words twelve months ago when Greg approached him with an offer. Of course they should never have mixed the two, it was a fundamental rule of business, but as Jett’s mother would say, there was no point in crying over spilled tincture.

  “Is that what you really want, Greg? If so, I’ll get Addison in here and we’ll clear this up in a matter of minutes. If not, sit your ass down so we can get on with cleaning up your image because that’s what is going to suffer here. Your actions can make or break you and with this being your second offence, it could get very ugly. What’ll it be?”

  Greg paced the small office uneasily, muttering under his breath words Jett had no desire to decipher. For one reason or another, Whisper had moved back into his thoughts. He felt her presence as strongly as if she were in the room. Her fire licked at his insides, her body a temptation he wanted to surrender to. Each time he blinked, she appeared behind his eyelids, a lure for him to lock himself away and indulge in her luscious curves and womanly heat. Out of the blue he wondered if she’d done as he requested last weekend and worn him on her skin all day.

  Chagrin heated his cheeks. They hardly knew each other. Part of him would understand if she’d raced home and showered and scrubbed until her skin glowed red. The rest of him desperately wanted to believe she’d carried him with her. He just didn’t understand why.

  “I’ll find other representation.” Greg’s voice penetrated his thoughts and, when Jett raised his face, his friend frowned at him.

  “What did you say?”

  “You weren’t even listening, were you? What the hell’s wrong with you today, Jett? It’s like you’re off in la-la land. You know, speaking as a friend, you need to get laid. How long has it been? I know you’re worried about the—”

  Jett shot to his feet, the scraping of his chair drowning out Greg’s voice. “Let’s see if we can go find Addison and get the contracts terminated.”

  Without another word, he rounded his desk and strode toward the door. Determined not to let Greg get another word in, he gripped the doorhandle and prayed his boss was free.

  * * * * *

  “Ready for that tour now?”

  Sitting in her plush leather chair behind her brand-new desk, Roxanne lifted her gaze from the immaculately organized desktop to the friendly face at the door. How could she not smile? Her new boss welcomed her with open arms and he’d lined up a series of potential clients for her to interview. Clearly he’d done his homework and knew the kind of clientele she’d handled. It brought a tickle of joy into her heart.

  “You realize you’re spoiling me, right?” She smiled as she stood and joined him at the door. One last glance behind her confirmed this statement. Her new office was furnished exactly as she would have done herself.

  “Well,” Addison Taylor held out an elbow for her and Roxanne slipped an arm through, “it’s hard not to. This firm hasn’t had a female PR consultant in a long time and it’s going to my head. You are going to be a huge asset to this team, Roxanne. I can feel the positive energy you bring and so will the others. I’ve set up an introduction for you at two in the boardroom, where you’ll have a chance to meet my brother Theodore and the rest of the crew.”

  The deep pile carpet beneath her feet cushioned each step as Addison led her through the corridors of the famed Taylor & Taylor Management Group. He seemed a proper gentleman though his reputation painted him as a ruthless businessman with an eye for talent. He’d chased her to join their firm a while back and, despite her polite decline, he’d left the invitation open.

  “It was shortsighted of Celeste to let you go,” he remarked when they reached a bank of windows that overlooked the heart of Melbourne. “Did she offer you a reasonable explanation?”

  Roxanne tamped down on the wry smile trying to break free. “Apparently she felt the firm was holding me back.”

  He shook his head. “Silly woman. Pillow Talk is only a viable company because of your hard work. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Laughing lightly, Roxanne removed her arm and stepped forward to get a closer look at the city. She’d never seen it from this high before. “Celeste worked as hard as I did.”

  “And that’s why the magazines want to interview you instead of her. There’s no need to be modest, Roxanne. Anyone with average intelligence can see that you were the face and the name of Pillow Talk. How did your clients take the news?”

  Hearing Addison Taylor, a respected and feared leader in PR and marketing, praise her left her feeling giddy. This time she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. “They were shocked,” she said to the window. “I didn’t explain the circumstances, just let them know I was leaving the firm and they would be in good hands.”

  Because, of course, the clients were contracted with the firm and not with Roxanne. As much as she’d wanted to rant and rave about Celeste stabbing her in the back, she’d had the presence of mind to explain that their representation wouldn’t be in any way compromised. It pleased her that so many of them wanted to tear up their contracts and follow her to Taylor & Taylor but she’d implored them to finish out their terms. Pillow Talk hadn’t done anything unethical in firing her and, while she wanted revenge on Celeste, she’d find it in the world of business and competition, not petty underhanded tactics.

  “How many will follow you here?”

  She turned and grinned at him. “Four, so far. Their contracts are up for renewal at the end of the month and they’ve chosen not to re-sign with Pillow Talk.”

  Addison barked a jovial laugh and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re going to be right at home here, my dear. Of course, there might be one or two consultants who may be thrown by your arrival. It hasn’t been common knowledge that we were hiring but don’t let them intimidate you. Deep down, they’re pussycats. Shall we continue?”

  Looping her arm through his elbow once more, Roxanne followed his lead and listened as he gave her both the tour of the offices and a brief history lesson. His deep, rolling voice and Irish accent caressed her ears and she knew if he chose a career in voice-over, he’d be a smash hit.

  Circling the square layout of the twentieth floor, they returned to reception. Three doors led from the waiting area. As she read each door in turn, she felt the bloom of Jett’s presence in her soul. Odd that she’d feel it so strongly now but she put it down to the need for his approval. God, but she wanted to blurt out her achievement. She now worked with Taylor & Taylor, the most respected PR firm in the city! He’d be so proud of her.

  She read the name Jett Rich on the third door and slowed as they neared it. Was he… Could he be… Roxanne blinked away the questions and plastered a smile to her lips. Of course he wasn’t. It couldn’t be him. When she’d suggested he was a lawyer or a banker, he didn’t correct her. But then, she didn’t correct him when he thought she belonged in fashion, did she?

  When they reached the door, it swung open with a force that made her jump. It ruffled her hair for a moment and by the time it settled back down, she found herself staring into very familiar ocean blue eyes. The recognition in them stung her and she let go of Addison’s elbow, tipping backward in shock. Lucky for her, Jett was quick on his feet and caught her. That memorable touch burned through her newly acquired business suit and she knew in a flash that coming to Taylor & Taylor had put an end to their Friday night fantasies.

  He murmured her name by her ear as he righted her but his gaze rested firmly on Addison. The older man laughed heartily and slapped Jett’s arm.


  “Good catch, Jett.”

  Roxanne’s heart thumped so hard in her chest she thought both men could hear it, but neither looked at her. She took a moment to straighten her jacket and suck in a deep, relaxing breath.

  It was no use. The man who knew her entire body, her every desire and wish, stood right by her side. The foot of distance between them did nothing to lessen his heat and she saw his jaw tighten, his lips press together, and knew he struggled to keep his eyes off her.

  “Jett, let me introduce you to our newest consultant.”

  His jaw went slack and her heart sank. “You hired someone?”

  Addison seemed totally unaware of Jett’s reaction to her and grinned like a proud father as he patted Roxanne’s shoulder. “I did, although it’s been a long time coming. Roxanne and I have been in secret talks for a while now. Jett Rich, meet Roxanne Whisper.”

  Jett’s head snapped toward her and she had to control the urge to look for somewhere to hide. “Roxanne Whisper?” Suddenly he smiled and the shock dissipated from his gaze. “Nice to meet you.”

  Roxanne stared at his outstretched hand. How could they shake hands after he’d…and she’d…and they’d… She didn’t give it another thought and shook his hand.

  “And you, Jett.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Roxanne. You’ll fit right in,” Addison added.

  The three of them laughed but Jett never let go of her hand. His laugh seemed as fake as hers and when they were joined by a third man, Jett’s grasp tightened. He stepped in front of her as if to shield her, though he never turned away. The intensity of his gaze deepened and he tugged her closer. She resisted. He winked.

  “Mr. Taylor? I think we should talk. It seems Jett doesn’t want to represent me, so I consider it best if we end our partnership today.”

  “Ah.” Addison nodded and turned to her. “Roxanne, this matter needs my urgent attention. I’ll leave you in Jett’s capable hands.”