Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  Back out of the office, Devon heads down a hallway before I can thank him. But I really should thank him, right?

  I trace his steps down the hall and through a doorway on the right—the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. A little early for that, in my opinion, but I won’t judge the person who just scored me a potential career-building job.

  “Hey. Um...Sorry. I just wanted to say thanks.” I lean against the doorway, trying to keep my calm. Devon opens the bottle, taking a couple gulps before he even turns toward me.

  “You know, if you want to show your thanks...” He looks at me with the same provoking expression he gave me outside.

  Does he expect me to return the favor by sleeping with him? “No. Thank you. But. I’m not like th—I don’t. I just... You didn’t have to do that for me, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do it for you.” He moves toward some cabinets, rummaging through their contents. “I love pissing off that dickwad. He and my dad have been buddy-buddy since their college days. Now he mooches off my father however he can. I figure, if you’re any good, then it works out. Cool. But if you’re as awful as Greg seems to think you are...” He laughs. “Oh man, that’ll make this weekend much more entertaining.”

  And with that he leaves through another doorway. No goodbye. No more sexual advances. He just leaves, and I’m dumbfounded. I don’t know whether to hate him or fantasize about him. And I can’t pinpoint how I went from bombing an interview to following this Devon guy around like a schoolgirl chasing after her crush.

  It doesn’t matter. I got a job. And I’ll be seeing more of Devon soon enough.

  ***

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Olivia. You seem distracted today.”

  Dr. Maureen Shannon sits across from me in a high-backed armchair, its upholstery a soft pink with little blue birds all over. I’m slouching in her forest green, corduroy love seat, twisting my phone in circles on my lap while my brain replays my interactions with Devon.

  “Are you alright?” she asks.

  I blink and focus on her. She wears a yellow skirt and jacket over a white, buttoned blouse. Her blond hair is pulled back from her face, and her entire ensemble makes me want to call her Sunshine. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I sit up straighter, trying to push out images of Devon—his strong jawline, his smooth skin, his very kissable mouth. “I...um...had another interview today.”

  “That’s wonderful. How did it go?”

  Awful. Worse than awful. “It went well. It’s a temp job as an assistant to a party planner. I’ll be able to afford rent.” I’m downplaying the extravagance of it all. I wouldn’t know where to start if I tried to describe the mansion and upcoming party and Devon.

  “And how do you feel about the job itself? Or rather, how is this job making you feel?”

  “I’ll be working around a lot of people—important people.” And Devon. What is his deal? He’s nice to me. He hits on me. Then he completely brushes me to the side like I’m...like I’m nothing.

  “When you say ‘important people’, be careful to not belittle your own worth. You’re important as well—”

  “Um, no. I’ll be working with famous people. Rich people. Influential and powerful people.” According to what Mr. Keenly claimed, at least. “It wasn’t a jab against myself.”

  “Very well. Tell me how our experiment is going. How have your days been?”

  She’s talking about my alarms. I don’t see what the problem is with them. I grip my phone tighter as I answer. “Fine. I’ve been fine. Check the clock a lot more often, but it’s okay. I did have to turn them on today. But just today.”

  “And how many did you set?”

  I look down at my phone, though I already know the answer. “Eight.”

  “Can you tell me what they were all for?”

  Of course I can. I always can. I recite them in order. “8:00 wake up. 11:00 get ready. 12:00 leave for interview. 12:30 interview. 2:30 leave for this appointment. 3:00 appointment. 5:00 make dinner. 8:00 set tomorrow’s schedule.” I shouldn’t have admitted that last one. This is the closest thing to exposure therapy I’ve agreed to, and I’d promised I’d try my hardest.

  “Do you plan to use them tomorrow?”

  I know damn well I will. I have to go back to that mansion in the morning. “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Good. Keep working on that. Next month, I want to discuss the next step I’d like you to try.”

  “Which would be...?” I don’t want to try anything new. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to even come here. She’s the only person that makes me talk about my brother, Jared. But that’s why I keep coming back...because she’s the only person that makes me talk about him.

  “Don’t worry about it. For now, you know what we’re working on.”

  Don’t worry about it? That’s an evil trick. She said that knowing I will worry for the entire next month.

  “Can I ask you something?” she says, as though she wouldn’t if I said no. “How would the events of your brother’s passing have changed if you relied on all these alarms back then?”

  She’s asked me this before, so I think she’s checking to see if my answer’s changed. It hasn’t. I think back to five years ago.

  *

  I’d skipped school to hang out with my friends instead. Tyler and I were dating at the time. He had an older brother who’d sell us weed for unreasonable prices. Then Tyler and I and our little group of friends would hang out in Tyler’s pool house wasting away entire days sometimes. And when it was just me and Tyler, those days would be spent naked, getting lost in each other. His tan, Spanish skin. My purple-streaked hair. It was easy to be carefree and spontaneous back then.

  It was a Friday, and I was still high when I finally left to pick up my little brother. I’d be late, but fourteen-year-old Jared couldn’t do anything about it even if he did get mad. I was doing him the favor. Pulling into the high school, I was too busy thinking up excuses for my teachers in case they noticed me in my car. I didn’t notice the cluster of police cars blocking my usual route to the parking lots until I had to slam on my brakes to avoid rear-ending one of them.

  “Shit.”

  I looked around, paranoid. Did anybody see me do that?

  That’s when I noticed the fire truck. The ambulance. The flashing lights from the cop cars. The ‘Do Not Cross’ yellow tape. All blocking off the familiar entrance to the woods to the right of the school. So many kids—including myself—took that path leading to a half-assed tree house built by some freshmen several years before. A group of seniors back then had taken it over, and ever since it’s where we’d all go to skip a class or smoke a cigarette or compare the tastes of the liquor we’d stolen from our parents, hiding it in our makeshift flasks of lotion bottles and medicine containers. But our safe-haven would never be the same.

  *

  I take a deep breath, not wanting to remember the rest. I glance at the clock hanging on the wall near a cheerful inspirational poster encouraging me to persevere. This appointment was so close to being over. Thank god.

  As I focus on pushing back all those past feelings and memories, it’s like my veins harden and my blood turns cold. I stiffen in my seat and repeat the same truth that’s haunted me since I was seventeen.

  “If I’d been on time, Jared would still be alive.”

  ***

  CHAPTER SIX

  An excited voice greets me from the kitchen. “You get the job?”

  I get home right as Maddie is pulling out a freshly nuked pizza from the microwave. She knows I see a therapist, and she knows about my brother, but I made it clear when we first met two years ago that I didn’t want to talk about it. Maddie’s the type to respect that without pushing it. A part of me is certain it’s because she wouldn’t know how to react if we did have deep conversations about my past. I’ve rarely seen a bad day from bubbly, live-for-the-moment Maddie. I’d hate to bring her down with my issues, and instead, I try to live vicar
iously through her free-spirited nature.

  Over the past several months, I’ve suspected she goes out of her way to form some sort of distraction after my appointments with Dr. Shannon. She never confirmed it, but she’s always put extra effort into taking my mind off of everything when I get home. Tonight, she’s doing so with pizza.

  I set my things on the counter right as my phone buzzes for my 5:00 alarm. Shutting it off, I ignore Maddie side-eyeing me. I grab a cardboard slice of sauce and imitation cheese and plop into a chair instead.

  “I did, but it’s more complicated than that,” I say, burning my tongue on the first bite of my food.

  Maddie joins me at the table. She sports a low-cut tank top and jeans that must cut off her circulation, but not only does she pull off the look—heels and all—she is convincingly comfortable on top of it. If I tried to imitate her, I’d come out resembling a suffocating raccoon with 80s hair. I could use a dose of her confidence.

  “Speak, woman,” she says, kicking me under the table.

  How do I summarize the events of this day? Where do I start?

  “Well… The interview was at this ridiculous mansion. You should’ve seen it.”

  “Ooh,” Maddie’s eyes widen. “Rich boss?”

  “No, it belongs to the family we’ll be planning a party for.”

  “That’ll be fun. Do they need a bartender?”

  I laugh. “I’ll keep my ear out. Unfortunately, the boss is a complete jerk. He wasn’t going to give me the job, but Devon—um, one of the guys in this family—insisted I get it.”

  Maddie stops mid-chew. “Wait. What? What guy?”

  Do I describe our up-close-and-personal encounter when he was hovering over me? Or do I tell her how he completely crossed the line of flirting and invited me to sleep with him? Or do I tell her about how he blew me off and left without a word?

  “Just some guy.”

  I try my hardest to keep a straight face, but a rogue smile gives me away. Maddie stares me down waiting for more information.

  “It’s nothing! I just ran into him before the interview. And then again after. When he found out Keenly—my new boss—had rejected me, he...well, he basically went in and threatened the man.”

  “Really? But why?” She catches herself and holds her hands up to stop me from misunderstanding her. “I mean, you’re awesome, and you’ll rock this job, and anyone should know that. But I’m confused. Who is this guy? Someone you knew? Why was he quick to jump to your defense like that?”

  I laugh at her excitement, particularly because... “You don’t even know what the job is,” I say, but I answer so she doesn’t have to ask. “I’m now the assistant to the head event coordinator at Platinum Planning.”

  “I’ve heard of them before. Nice work.”

  “And to answer your other questions, the guy’s Devon. I’ve never seen him before—I don’t think. I mean, he looked a little familiar, but he’s definitely not someone I’ve talked to before. And he said he did it to piss off my boss.”

  Maddie arches an eyebrow. “Come on, girl. That’s hard to believe. If he didn’t know you, and he helped you out like that... It means he thought you were hot. You said he lives in this mansion?”

  I ignore her theory. He may have hit on me, but he also made it clear he wasn’t doing me a favor. “I don’t know if he does. His family does though. He was there fighting with his dad. It’s no big deal. It was just a strange encounter. That’s all.”

  “That’s far from all. You’re just getting started.” Maddie fumbles through her purse and pulls out her phone. “Where’s this mansion? Who are these people?”

  “Over by the beach? And I said I don’t know. Keenly said they’re important. He mentioned pretentious sounding things like ‘Hollywood elite’ and ‘American royalty’. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and you know how I am. I can’t handle that sort of attention and limelight. I’d be a blubbering mess—I was a blubbering mess. So I don’t even know what to expect from this part—”

  “You said his name’s Devon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She taps at her phone screen and listens to me simultaneously. I’m used to this conversational multitasking with her. “And he’s from a rich family who throws frequent Hollywood parties?”

  “That’s pretty much everyone who’s anyone in this city, but yeah. What’s your point?”

  “Is this your knight in shining armor—the guy who just defended your honor so you’d work in his home?”

  She holds her phone out for me to see. It’s open to some tabloid site. I squint to read the smaller print. ScandalLust Magazine.

  The Lust List.

  3. Devon Stone.

  And then there’s a photo. Wet hair. Unbuttoned shirt. A body I can’t describe without wanting to touch it—toned chest, defined abs, low-rise jeans that make my imagination do embarrassing things. And those piercing blue eyes.

  Oh my god.

  It’s him. Devon. And I feel like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t. Something private, but it’s posted online. And he’s apparently one of “the most desired bachelors in the world”.

  I have no words.

  “Liv? Is this him?”

  I meet her gaze, and the little bit of pizza I’ve eaten is threatening to make a reappearance. I nod my head slowly.

  “Holy shit. You aren’t lying.” She gives a little squeal and stomps her heels against the scratched linoleum floor.

  I shake my head no. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. But why did he—what did he see in me?

  “You struck gold today, girl. What are you going to do?”

  “Is it too late to decline the job offer?”

  “Oh hell no. Look at this.” She holds the phone out again but twists it back so she can stare too. “The things I could do...”

  “Maddie!”

  “Sorry. The things you could do.”

  I glare at her. “You realize how ridiculous this is. Today must have been some fluke. A guy like that? They don’t go for girls like me. I’m sure he has a supermodel girlfriend or something.”

  “Says right here, ‘Good news, ladies. Devon is currently single. Better act fast. It won’t be for long.’ Hear that? Better act fast, Liv.”

  I stand up, no longer hungry, and dump the rest of my pizza into the trashcan while Maddie reads random facts from her phone. “‘Devon Stone—of the Stone Record Label mass empire is up against his twin brother, Kaidan, to take over the reins when their father—and founder of the label—retires next year.’ Ew, you realize that guy is super old and dating Serena Lynn?”

  “That sounds like it’ll last.” Serena Lynn is the current trend of the music charts. Every single seems to be huge before it even hits the radio. Meanwhile, she’s in a relationship with someone who could be her grandfather.

  “Anyway,” Maddie continues. “Devon’s twenty-eight and the notorious bad boy of the family...Last serious girlfriend was Tempest Ultra singer, Kennedy Rose, but they broke up two years ago. Now he prefers one-night stands and disappearing from the spotlight for weeks at a time. Ooh, maybe you can disappear with him. Wonder where he goes...”

  “You know how hard it was to speak to him? Could you imagine me dating him?”

  Maddie contemplates it for a second. I’m sure she knows me well enough to know I’m not celebrity girlfriend material. Girlfriend? Why am I even thinking these terms? Maddie’s revelation about him makes it even more apparent we’re from vastly different worlds. I work for him. Period.

  I respond to Maddie’s continued silence. “Exactly. Nothing will happen. Hell, I’ll try to get you into the party, and you can date him. You could make it down a red carpet without tripping.”

  “As much as I like the challenge, I have a feeling I’d much rather watch how this all pans out for you.”

  I snatch up the new hire paperwork and retreat to my room. I’d bombed the interview. I should’ve left quicker. Now, I can’t comprehend what I’ve gotten myself into.

>   ***

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I’m struggling to fill out these forms. It’s all basic information about taxes and depositing my paychecks and confidentiality agreements, but my mind is reeling from everything Maddie just told me.

  Devon Stone.

  He’d been inches from my face. He’d given me an open invitation to have sex with him. And I find out he’s actually somebody?

  Pushing the paperwork aside, I open my laptop and type ‘Devon Stone’ into an online search engine. Maddie had figured him out so easily. What else did I not know about him?

  The image results show me a collection of candid and modeled shots of Devon. Some fully dressed. Others...not so much. There’s even a photo of him in a tux standing with his brother. Kaidan is the same level of sexy, and I can’t help but wonder how many women have tried to hook up with both hot twins.

  Below the images are news articles, mostly from trashy tabloid sites. I’m afraid to click on any of them as I read through their headlines.

  “Devon Stone Arrested Again. You Won’t Believe What He Did This Time”

  “Rose May Have the Key to His Heart, But Who’s Got the Key for the Cuffs?”

  “Stone Pulled Over, Friend Taken in for Cocaine Possession”

  I slam the laptop shut and try not to think about it as I grab clothes and head toward the shower. I’m calling it an early night. If that’s just the tip of the iceberg with Devon, I have no interest in finding out the rest.

  In the bathroom, I start the water and take a long look at myself in the mirror. Why would he come on to me? I’m not hideous, but I couldn’t be more ordinary. My long, auburn hair’s been cut recently enough that it still has some bounce. And I’ve always favored how my eyes are more gray than blue. Otherwise, I’m not much for makeup, and I’m not as fit as I wish I were. But Devon didn’t seem to care, so that should boost my confidence a little.