Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  The place was slow since it was well past ten p.m., and only a few patrons nursed glasses of red in a booth nestled in the far back corner. Nine’s was a Michelin star winner, and one of the only places Jeannine played head chef at on a regular basis. It was a sweet perk, never needing a reservation in order to get the highly sought after food but she’d been cooking for me since our “family studies” course in middle school.

  “You milk that while I throw together your usual.” She nodded toward my drink and disappeared into the kitchen in the back.

  I took a sweet sip, enjoying the immediate release I received from the smooth scotch. Well, at least that was something. I closed my eyes, unable to keep the image of Rory from my mind. I’d had a few lovers—discreetly—since college, and I couldn’t understand what it was about Rory that tangled me so badly, especially since we hadn’t even officially had sex yet.

  Maybe it’s because he’s taking control over you in a way no else ever has before.

  Another sip. I’d never once wanted a man as badly as I did Rory—and I knew it had less to do with his celebrity-athlete status and more to do with the way he took control of the situation, of me, despite my efforts to take the reins. I may have drafted the contract, but he was the one with all the power. The push-pull, paired with how little I truly knew of the man, made it so much more intense.

  “Lobster risotto,” Jeannine said as she slid the plate before me, “with a side of you better tell me what the hell went down in the penthouse.”

  I smirked, picking up my fork and slowly taking a bite. My eyes rolled back in my head. Jeannine had a direct line to my soul and had found the easiest route through food. The dish practically melted in my mouth. “Perfection. Every. Time.”

  “Yes, yes. The deets. Now.” She leaned her elbows on the bar, giving me her undivided attention. Of course, she’d practically made the dirty-girl bucket list for me and made sure I was under strict orders to share every situation which resulted in checking the items off.

  “He came up a few minutes after you handed him the key.”

  She clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the diners in the back. I eyed her, and she threw her hands up in apology. “Sorry. I knew he would. Who could resist you?”

  “Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes.

  “So what happened?”

  I sighed, thinking about how close he’d taken me to the edge before pulling me back. “We’re taking it slow.”

  Her shoulders dropped. “Slow? Who has time for slow?”

  Heat flushed my cheeks as the memory of his tongue between my thighs ignited the ache that flared every time I thought about him. I shifted in my seat, leaning further over my risotto.

  “So are you dating? I thought he didn’t do that.” She tilted her head.

  I shrugged. “I think we are.”

  She squinted at me. “You’re serious?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s Rory Jackson.”

  “And I’m Paige Turner. So what?”

  “You know his reputation. I was all for you using him for a little list checking, but a relationship? Is that…smart for you?”

  Guilt twisted my insides. There wasn’t a time in my life I’d ever lied to Jeannine. Or Bailey for that matter. Now, with the deal I’d struck with Rory, we’d be lying to everyone—kind of. It was complicated. I couldn’t risk them knowing, though. It wouldn’t make sense to them, and it definitely wouldn’t be good if word got around I practically hired one of Seattle’s hottest Sharks to be my sex slave. Ugh. When you put it that way...

  I reached across the bar and squeezed her wrist. “I love you for looking out for me, but you know I’m a smart girl. I don’t go into any situation blind, and I know exactly what to expect when it comes to Rory Jackson. I’ve been given a first class seat to his many...one night relationships. I won’t get hurt.”

  She eyed me skeptically, almost as if she could see through my line of bullshit. I wouldn’t doubt her the ability, but I was thankful she didn’t press the issue.

  “All right,” she said, finally, her light smile returning to her face. “Did he talk about his stick and Shark stats all night?”

  I chuckled. “No. We didn’t actually talk...much.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You dirty girl!”

  I couldn’t help but join her laughter. Lord, we could’ve been in high school again. Only now the men we discussed were more than capable, incredibly hot, prospects. “I know! I’m terrible!”

  “No, you’re not.” She fiddled with the collar of her jacket. “You went after what you wanted. Always have. I love that about you. I wish I had half your courage.”

  “Please, I wouldn’t have made the list without you pushing it. And look at the success you have!”

  “I don’t have an evening with Rory Jackson under my belt!”

  “I don’t either.” I shoved another quick bite into my mouth. “Not technically.”

  “At least tell me he’s a good kisser,” she begged.

  The memory of his mouth was imprinted on my soul, his tongue was that magical. “Yes. In fact, I’ve never had better.”

  “Shut up!” she giggled. “Damn. Think about how good it’ll be when you finally sleep with him.

  A warm shiver shook my core. “I have.”

  “Unless it’s all build and no backing it up.”

  My fork clinked against the plate. “Thanks for being a Debbie Downer.” I shook my head. “Besides,” I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a whisper. “There is no possible way he could be bad. I practically soak my panties every time the man walks into the room.”

  She hissed, fanning herself as I returned to my meal. “Wait. You’ve seen him since Donaldson’s event?”

  “Twice.” I grinned. “I ran into him at Aroma’s and then invited him over for dinner later that night.”

  “You are so bad!”

  I nodded. “He actually found me there.”

  “Like, sought you out?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I mumbled around another forkful. “Got the info from Bailey. Not that it took much, I bet. The two of you would probably make him a key and give him my security code if he asked for it.”

  She laughed. “Can you blame us? Look at you! You’re blushing just talking about him, and that smile on your face has to hurt because you’ve been wearing it since I brought him up!”

  I touched my cheeks, forcing myself to drop the schoolgirl grin.

  “Pulling the Bailey card is smart. Seeking you out and now dating?” She rubbed her hands together. “He fell for you quick. That’s a record. Way faster than Kevin. What it’d take him, three weeks?”

  “Stop it. Kevin was in high school…but yes, he dropped the L-bomb after only three weeks.”

  Not that Rory would ever use that word.

  “When are you seeing him next?”

  “I don’t know, the next high school reunion?”

  She planted me with a firm gaze that told me she wasn’t talking about Kevin.

  “I’m not exactly sure.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “He said he’d call.”

  She sighed and took a good swig of my scotch. “Well, I sure as hell hope he does quick. You have to indulge while you can, and we didn’t set any repeating clauses on the dirty-girl list. You could check off number seven until you can barely walk.”

  I swallowed my bite a little too quickly. “Jesus, Jeannine!”

  “Seriously. No one would ever know.”

  I dabbed my lips with a napkin. “Because gossip surrounding the bad boys of the Sharks never makes headlines? Please. That’s why we’re taking it slow. So the media sees we’re both serious about…” I let my sentence hang there, my imagination running wild with every way the media could destroy my name and that of the company I was meant to head.

  “I get that,” she said. “It’s just…”

  “What?” I asked after she’d held her breath for a few moments.

/>   “You’ve always been in control, constantly maintained the good-girl image your family—and now your position—has demanded of you. It’d be nice to see you let someone else take care of you for a change. I hope whatever you two are doing at least accomplishes that.”

  I pressed my lips together. She was right, as usual. This is why she was my soul-sister. She knew me better than me sometimes. Of course, Rory had gotten under my skin so deliciously—because he’d taken full control and left me wanting more.

  “Did you at least sneak a photo with your phone?” Jeannine brought me out of my wild thoughts—where I hunted Rory down and forced him to finish the delicious game he’d started.

  “Of course not. If you want to know what he looks like without a shirt, google it. It’s very close to the real thing…except…”

  “What?”

  The image of the deep V that the cotton towel had barely covered when I’d seen him at Bailey’s made my mouth water. “He’s well defined in ways Photoshop could never touch.”

  I chuckled at her wide, opened mouth, watching as the gears turned behind her eyes. She snapped out of it, and lightly smacked me on the shoulder. “And you want to take it slow? You’re insane.”

  “We have to.” It didn’t matter that I wanted to test the limits Rory would push me to or the rules he’d make me break. “There is too much at stake if we push it too fast. Not just my name, or his reputation, but my employees. They’re the ones who would suffer the most if our company got dragged through the gutter with too many immoral headlines associated with my name. And we all know the kind of stories the press writes about him. He needs the slow pace as much as I do.”

  She hissed. “God it’s like your family are a bunch of politicians.”

  Close, at least with the moral standard the world held us to. I couldn't be mad about the life I’d grown up in, though. I believed in those morals, believed I was a good person…I just wanted to do a few bad things before I shut the door on that kind of life forever.

  Twelve bad things to be exact.

  And, damn it, the only one that kept my breath catching and heart racing was number seven. If Rory didn’t put me out of my misery soon, I might combust before he had the chance.

  Jeannine reached across the table and clutched my wrist. “Even politicians make it work. I’m not saying he’s prince charming and will change overnight, but I get you wanting to see where it goes between the two of you. I see how flustered you are simply talking about him. I can’t imagine what he does to you in person.”

  Warmth filled my insides, and I licked my lips.

  “Or maybe I can.” She let go and laughed as she took my nearly cleaned plate back to the kitchen.

  I loved her support, even when she knew the stakes as well as myself. Again, I had the urge to tell her the truth, tell her that Rory and I had nothing more than a business arrangement, but that was one secret I couldn’t risk anyone ever finding out.

  Gorgeous rays of Seattle sun illuminated the botanical gardens I had secured for the employee appreciation event, making the rich array of colorful flowers pop against the lush greenery. Round tables draped in the standard cream linens took up the area used for entertainment, and Jeannine had set her team and self-serve stations to the right of the stage I’d had constructed on the site. It acted as the focal point of the event, and the indie-band I’d hired—Black Orchid—were two songs in.

  I stood near the entrance beneath an archway of ivy and greeted our guests as they came. Almost everyone had arrived, from our stockholders to the people who ran our packaging department, and the line for food dwindled as our employees filled their plates with signature Jeannine dishes like my favorite lobster risotto, seared scallops, and pan-seared halibut. She was busy busting her moves behind the stations, practically dancing at the ovens placed back to back, allowing her to maintain the supply as soon as it came close to a shortage.

  “Paige.” My father’s voice drew my attention back to the entrance, and I smiled as he wrapped me in a side hug. “This is gorgeous. Well done.”

  I scanned the area another time, noting the vast amount of empty tables waiting to be filled resting toward the back, and nodded. “Thank you. Our other guests should arrive any minute.”

  “Wonderful. The musicians have talent, and I’m glad they’re sticking to melodies that please a wide span of tastes—I can’t tell if they’re folk, modern, or blues.”

  “Indie. An eclectic combination of several genres. It’s why I picked them, their wide appeal.”

  “You are an extremely smart woman, providing the best for our employees, and inviting those in need to dine as well. Honestly, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to represent our company and the wholesome name behind it.”

  I pressed my lips together, accepting his words as a compliment, but knowing I hadn’t once thought about the benefits of inviting the shelter guests for our company. I genuinely wanted to help. I couldn’t care less if the news or top-bloggers picked it up or not, though I wouldn’t put it past my father to have called and scheduled their arrival regardless. He couldn’t help it; it was the businessman in him.

  “How did you manage to snag so many wonderful items for the charity auction?” He eyed the station to the left of Jeannine’s set-up, a long rectangular, cloth-draped table holding the items he spoke of.

  I shrugged. “I learned from the best.”

  A prideful grin shaped his mouth. “You sent Kelsey after them?”

  I chuckled. The petite brunette, currently inhaling a plateful of scallops at one of the center tables had been my personal assistant for six years. She’d applied for the position just to earn some money while she completed her masters in art history, but it was her minor in public relations that had won me over. That and her ability to find the humor in even the stuffiest of business situations. Her ability to discover local artists—from painters to musicians to writers—and bend them into donating items was the ultimate bonus.

  “How did she manage to obtain Rory Jackson for the day?”

  My head snapped to my father, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

  “Were you unaware? He’s already given a considerable check and donated a set of signed hockey sticks. I haven’t a clue why anyone would want them, beat up and used as they are, but the bid is already in the five figures. I believe one of our shareholders has the same crush you do.”

  Of course, father wouldn’t understand why anyone would want to get their hands on Rory’s stick—he didn’t keep up with sports, let alone the NHL. I nearly choked over the word crush picturing all the not-so-innocent crush-like things we would be doing to each other over the next three months…I hoped. This time when I gazed over the crowd, I hunted for one face.

  “Looks like he’s getting acquainted with Jeannine.” Dad pointed toward her station where she’d amazingly left her position at the ovens and served him herself. I didn’t bother explaining to my father that we were all already acquainted.

  Instead, I smoothed my hands over my white day dress, resisting the urge to cinch tighter the red ribbon that circled my hips. “Excuse me, father.” I patted his shoulder before walking over with what I hoped was a super casual and not at all shocked look on my face. I knew I’d see him again, but at my company’s bi-annual appreciation event was the last place I had expected it to happen.

  Jeannine waggled her eyebrows once we locked gazes and Rory, noticing her shift from bright-eyed-smile to crazy-innuendo face, glanced my way.

  I stopped a foot away from him, my breath stalling in my lungs. The man looked good in everything, his black slacks and royal blue polo beyond making his eyes pop. He could wear a prison jumpsuit, and he’d drip sex. I clenched my eyes shut for a moment, forcing the images of what laid beneath the clothes from my mind.

  “What are you doing here?” I wasn’t breathless. I was…upset. Fantasizing about sneaking around with him was one thing, having him show up at a corporate event—without so much as a heads up—was an entirely
different situation. Especially with my father’s watchful eyes measuring each step of my success and each of his prayers for me not to fail him—even more so with the new addition to the guest list that would be here any second. I know the contract stated we’d be a couple, but I’d wanted to inform my father of my new “relationship” on my own terms, not Rory’s. Though, the man was constantly reminding me who was in control now that I’d enlisted his help.

  “Couldn’t pass up an opportunity to give back to the local community. Wonderful charity you chose for the event, Paige. So many homeless shelters will benefit from the boost in funds.”

  My heart actually had the gall to flutter in my chest. No. I slapped the bitch down and redirected the feelings to my pussy where they belonged. Sex was acceptable. Lust was fine…actually having feelings for him would make our arrangement even more dangerous than it already was.

  “Thank you, Rory.” I was shocked he’d shown up—him looking into the charity event was beyond my thought process. He wasn’t advertised in the media as a do-gooder, but he’d already came to my aide at two charity functions. I’d always thought it was on Bailey and Gage’s insistence, but perhaps there was a side to him no one knew. The media constantly focused on which model was on his arm this week, or what player on the opposing team he’d crush next. This—what he was doing with me or for me or whoever the hell knew—would be fantastic for his image. And he’d be fantastic for my…list. No butterflies, Paige. Just business.

  I eyed Jeannine. She was easily the most gorgeous person here—besides perhaps Rory—even with her platinum blonde locks tied up in a top-knot and her all black chef attire.

  She suggestively wiggled her hips while Rory’s attention was on me and I chuckled. She’d be a better match for him than me, easily able to keep up with his wild side, and she didn’t have anything at stake from being in the limelight. Hell, her restaurants were frequented by A-listers all the time. She was used to it.

  A pang of completely unmerited jealousy cut in my stomach. When the hell had I decided I’d rather not picture Rory with anyone else? He was only mine for three months. After that, it would be back to bed-hopping for him and near-celibate for me.