Lose Control

by Donina Lynn

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Donina Lynn

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-314-5

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Brieanna Robertson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to everyone who has ever found love with someone who taught them that what might be considered to be an imperfection to one is actually perfection to another.

  LOSE CONTROL

  Donina Lynn

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  “Cassandra, are you even listening to me? What are you doing?”

  Cassie Sorrelson cringed at her mother using her full name. Any second, the usual lecture would come pouring out of the speaker of her cell phone. “I’m sitting at a red light with my hands in the correct o’clock positions and looking both ways before I cross.”

  She glanced up through the windshield to make sure the light hadn’t turned green and quickly applied her mascara in the rearview mirror. Multi-tasking because she was royally running late was what she was really doing. Her mother didn’t need to know that, though. That would just start a whole other conversation and it was bad enough Cassie was about to get the “you could have done something with your life” speech—for the hundredth time.

  “Don’t be flippant, dear. Your father and I just want you to be happy.”

  Tossing the tube of mascara into her bag, she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and checked her reflection. Not bad for sleeping through her alarm and racing around her apartment to get out the door. If the light would actually change, she might even have a shot at being on time.

  “Cassandra?”

  “Yes, Mom. I heard you, and I am happy.”

  “No, you’re not. How could you be? You’re twenty-five years old and you have no job, no husband, no kids, and no prospects. You have so much potential. You are an intelligent, beautiful woman and could have done something with your life.”

  And there it was. Cassie hit the accelerator and sighed. She really didn’t want to have this talk. It always ended with her being more than frustrated and her mother in near tears, fearing for her daughter’s future. Expectations were a bitch, and her parents had plenty of them for her.

  “Mom, I do have a job.” There was no way in hell Cassie was going anywhere near the husband or kids topics. She steered clear of them at all costs. They led straight into her obvious indecisiveness, fear of commitment, and Cassie’s favorite—how her carefree attitude and inability to settle down would only find her gray and alone. Not like talking about her employment—or in her mother’s mind, the lack there of—was any safer, but she’d take her chances. “In fact, I’m on my way to a new assignment now.”

  “That is not a career. That’s something to pass the time.”

  Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Cassie felt her patience slipping. “I like what I do. Why is that so hard for you to accept? I don’t need or want some mundane position where I go to the same place, look at the same faces, and do the same thing each and every day. I’m happy right where I am.” It was the truth. Cassie liked the diversity that went hand-in-hand with working for The Temporary Assistant. Every time she received a new assignment, she got the rush of excitement with starting something new. Nothing ever got stale or routine, simply because she was never at one place long enough for it to do so. She was constantly meeting new people, learning new skills, and even at times got the chance to travel and see new places. Which, she was lucky enough her current assignment just so happened to offer.

  She didn’t have much information other than there’d been a request for a temp with the required background, and who could leave on a business trip for three days. She didn’t have a clue where she was going and didn’t care. As long as it had a beach, that is.

  Cassie packed every bikini she owned, hoping for some free time to relax, catch some sun, and have a little fun—preferably with a toned, tanned, and tremendously hot man sporting a nice bulge in the front of his swim trunks. In Cassie’s eyes, all work and no play wasn’t even an option. And it had been a long time since she got to run around in a playground. Six months to be exact. If she went any longer, she’d have to add spinster to her name.

  “Cassandra, I’m well aware of how you think you’re happy, but at some point, you are going to have to realize there is more to life than having no responsibilities and your freedom. The financial security of having a steady income, the stability of having a home to call your own, and a family to share it all with is what true happiness is about. Just look at your father and me.”

  Cassie resisted the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel when she pulled into the parking space. Didn’t matter what she said or how many times she said it, her mom would never really hear her. There was no point in even trying. “Sorry, Mom. I don’t mean to cut you short, but I’m here. Got to run. Love you.”

  Hitting the end button on her cell, Cassie turned off the engine and breathed out a sigh of relief. She loved her mother and father, but they just never understood why Cassie couldn’t fit into the life they’d carved out in their minds for her. Even young, she’d struggled trying to make them see what had worked for them didn’t automatically mean it would for her, too.

  Struggled? Cassie smiled. It was more like rebelled. She’d acted out, got in trouble, spoke her mind and, as she was continuously told, was the sole reason why her mother had to start coloring her hair to hide the grays at such an early age.

  Little had changed other than now her rebellious side took on a more independent, always keep your options open and grab on to opportunities when they presented themselves type of tone. Who cared if all her friends were getting married, having children, or had what most would consider a career? All of that would fall into place eventually. For now, Cassie was free to go where she wanted, do what she wanted and with whom she wanted. Variety, change, and excitement were what she craved. Heaven forbid she would ever settle down or—gasp—become boring. It wasn’t her. Never had been and, honestly, she couldn’t imagine it ever would be. What she could imagine, however, was her being unemployed if she didn’t get moving soon.

  Leaving her luggage in the backseat to retrieve later, she grabbed her bag and sprinted for the parking garage elevator. Hitting the button for the floor the e-mailed instructions stated was her destination, she rode up and anxiously tapped her foot, waiting for the doors to open.

  When they did, she immediately found herself standing in a reception area for the headquarters of The Mountain’s Peak, Inc., one of the largest outdoors and sporting equipment retailers in the U.S. You couldn’t go to a city without finding one of their stores anchored to a mall or popping up along the highway. By catering to anyone from the weekend camping warrior to the extreme sporting enthusiast, they’d cornered the market. They were large and in charge and Cassie would be working for the VP himself for the next few days.

  Checking her watch to confirm she was on time, she walked over to the receptionist who was busy typing away at her computer. The older woman glanced up and gave Cassie a warm smile. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m supposed to report to the vice president. I’m with The Temporary Assistant agency.”

  “Oh yes, he’s been expecting you. Hold on one second. I’m
Margaret, by the way.” The woman punched a key on a desk phone and spoke into her earpiece. “Mr. Dayton, the temp you requested is here.” There was a pause before she continued. “Yes, sir, I’ll send her right back.” Margaret pressed another button and stood up to point in the direction of a corridor on their left. “Okay, just go down the hall and at the very end will be Mr. Dayton’s office. Go straight in, he’s waiting. Oh, and don’t let his gruff attitude get to you. On the inside, he’s a decent and fair man.”

  “Thanks, Margaret, I’ll try to remember that. I’m Cassie, nice to meet you.”

  After shaking the woman’s hand, Cassie turned and headed down the hallway while silently replaying how Margaret had said decent and fair. She would have much preferred hearing friendly, generous, or even fun. Oh, how she hoped for some fun. If not, these three days might turn out to be very long, indeed.

  Getting to the VP’s office, Cassie read the name in embossed letters on the door. Myles Dayton, Vice President. Why did that sound familiar to her? Unable to come up with an answer, she shook off the thought and let herself in only to find herself once again waiting as the man behind the desk told someone on the other end of the phone to pull what he wanted to say out of his ass and get to the point. Mr. Sunshine, he wasn’t. More like broody and miserable, actually. Not that she could make herself care at the moment, because lack of a pleasant disposition aside, the VP was one fine piece of eye-candy. There was no doubt the man kept in shape. With chiseled features, broad shoulders, a trim waist, and well-defined muscles outlined even with his suit jacket on, he was damn near buff and, dare she think it…entirely doable. Now there was a man she could enjoy working under.

  Ending the call, he placed the phone on his desk. Crystal blue eyes set off by jet black hair finally settled on her, causing an instant memory of passionate lips, strong hands, her dress hiked up to her waist, and the most regretful and humiliating evening she’d ever had. Considering Cassie hardly ever regretted anything and nearly never got embarrassed, that was saying something.

  Hoping she was wrong and yet knowing she wasn’t, Cassie hesitantly asked, “Milo?”

  Chapter Two

  Milo?

  Myles Oliver Dayton hadn’t heard or used that nickname since high school. Reclining back in his chair, he searched his memory for where he might know the woman or how she might know him. Nothing immediately came to mind other than making a mental note to thank his assistant when she returned from taking care of her sick sister for finding the temp agency that sent the beautiful woman standing in his office.

  Slowly, allowing his gaze to travel, he took in every delicious inch from her auburn hair, beautiful green eyes, and pouty lips to full breasts straining the buttons of her shirt, the flare of her hips, and long legs. Head to toe, she was pure perfection, and visions of her on his desk, legs draped over his shoulders as he lifted her skirt to taste that perfection invaded his mind.

  That was it! The mental image and desire to fuck her senseless did the trick. Myles sat forward and studied her face, silently confirming it was her. After all the years, he couldn’t believe the girl who had broken his teenage heart was in front of him. “I’ll be damned. Cassie Sorrelson. I haven’t seen you since—”

  Cassie put her hand up to stop him. “Please. Don’t say it.”

  Myles couldn’t blame her there. Their one night together hadn’t turned out how either of them had planned, or at the very least how he imagined it playing out. On her end, he only had assumptions because he never spoke to or saw her again. Not that he hadn’t tried.

  “Sit down.” He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk and watched the sway of her hips as she moved across the room. Jesus, she could still make every damn part of him stand up and take notice. Myles adjusted himself into a more comfortable position. His cock, obviously, was ready to handle some unfinished business. The rest of him wouldn’t mind either.

  “Milo, if this is going to be awkward, I’m sure the agency can send a replacement for me.”

  The only way this would get awkward was if she didn’t agree to what he was about to propose. Normally, he wouldn’t hit on an employee, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Call it a need that never got filled, an itch that never got scratched, or maybe it was some residual part of his wounded ego over how he’d chased after her unsuccessfully. Whatever the hell it was, just seeing her again and having her in his office was causing a fierce need to conquer, to possess. And the one thing Myles had learned was to never ignore his urges. If he wanted something bad enough, he went after it. That was how he handled his professional life and personal one as well. It was also the main reason he was in the position he was in, and at twenty-seven years old, the youngest executive in the company’s history.

  So, no. There was no way he wanted anyone else. He was going to take full advantage of having her there. “That won’t be necessary. It was a long time ago.” Tell that to his lower half that was acting like a horny teenager all over again. “Although, when we are around any of the other employees or business associates, I would prefer if you call me Mr. Dayton. When we’re alone…you can call me whatever you like.”

  “Anything I like, huh? You might wish you never said that.”

  Myles couldn’t help but smile. It was that mischievous glint in her eyes and brazen attitude that sucker-punched him the first time he saw her. He’d been working in the small store where he’d gotten his start with the company, and she’d walked straight up to him, pulled a dress out of a bag, and asked him if he wanted to take her to prom. Myles had taken one look at her and the scrap of red material that would barely cover anything on her, and his dick had answered for him. Hell yes, he’d take her. He didn’t give a shit if he knew her or not. She was a walking wet dream, and a few e-mails, a rented tux, and a week later, he’d driven the twenty miles to her town to pick her up with the clear objective of making her his.

  Her plans, however, weren’t even remotely close to what his had been. The minute she’d gotten into his Jeep, she’d admitted the only reason she’d asked him was to make her ex-boyfriend suffer for dumping her the month before. Cassie had then taken a flask out of her purse, downed the first of many gulps for the evening, and told him to hang on for the ride. Meaning her getting drunk, groping, and grinding up against him every chance she could and teaching him the true meaning of torture. When she’d gotten to the point of being unable to stand without toppling over, he dragged her to his vehicle, more than a little frustrated with her actions. To him, the night had been officially over.

  Again, Cassie had other plans, though. She’d insisted he pull over, and when he slammed the gearshift into park alongside of the road, she jumped across the seat and straddled his legs before he’d even known what happened. The right thing to do would have been to stop her, knowing she was drunk off her ass and nowhere near thinking clearly, but that blip on his morality screen had gone black the minute she’d stuck her tongue down his throat. Frenzied lust took over, hands ripped at clothes, and bodies ground up against each other. He’d just gotten her panties off and had been reaching for a condom when she stilled, opened the window, and vomited down the side of his Jeep. Nothing was more of a hard-on deterrent than having the girl you were ready to bury yourself into puking while sitting on top of you. Then, adding just one more reason why the evening had been all types of messed up, she passed out immediately after with her nipples and pussy still rubbing up against him.

  He put her in the passenger seat, fixed her dress, finished driving her home, and carried her into a thankfully parent-free house, only after she vomited once again. That time on his shoes. Placing her on the couch, he found a waste paper bucket to put next to her head, covered her with a throw blanket, and went to leave. Not before she shattered his heart by mumbling about how he was a good friend and how nice he was, though.

  The irony was that he wasn’t nice. Never had been, never would be. And if she’d returned any of his messages or answered the door when he kn
ocked on it a few days later, she would have seen just that. Of all the things he’d been accused of—determined, ambitious, stubborn, domineering—she’d been the only one to ever use that word to refer to him.

  Nice had fucking nothing to do with him or what he’d wanted that night, and especially what he wanted right now. Because nothing would make him more satisfied than to flip her over the arm of the chair and pound into her over and over again, showing her exactly how “nice” he could be.

  “You look good, Milo.”

  The sound of her voice brought him out of his thoughts. “You too, Cassie.”

  “So, what I am here for?”

  Myles suppressed the urge to tell her the many things and positions he had planned for her. “You’re here to assist me. That’s what executive assistants do.”

  Cassie smiled. “No shit.”

  Myles chuckled at her choice of vocabulary. “Maybe we should add no cursing or derogatory comments to the list of things you shouldn’t be saying unless we’re alone.” Straightening, he gave her a look that, with no amount of uncertainty, would fully convey the meaning and intent behind what he was about to say. “You will be at my full disposable for the next few days. I expect you to do what I want, when I want, and how I want it. If you adhere to this, you will be generously rewarded in ways I’m sure you will find quite pleasurable. If you don’t, however, then you will be…” Myles paused while he hungrily burned a trail up and down her body, imagining her naked, and knowing full well his eyes blazed with lust when they once again settled on hers. “Reprimanded.”

  There was no missing the flush spreading across her cheeks. Satisfied in knowing she understood what he was referring to, and he affected her as much as she did him, he waited a heartbeat before asking the question that would determine whether or not she was on board with what he was proposing. “Does that sound agreeable to you, Cassie?”