His Terms

by Jenika Snow

  His Terms

  Jenika Snow

  HIS TERMS

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  Jenika_Snow@Yahoo.com

  Copyright © June 2020 by Jenika Snow

  First E-book Publication: June 2020

  Photo provided by: Adobe Stock

  Cover Designer: Designs by Dana

  Proof Editor: All Encompassing Books

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental. Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The contract was simple.

  Be his for one week and her money troubles would disappear.

  It seemed simple enough to Sorcha Case. Cut and dry. She’d be Rian Hartford’s in any way he saw fit, but only for seven days.

  But Sorcha should have known nothing was that simple.

  Rian was arrogant, ruthless, and brought cold to a whole new level. He was gorgeous, intelligent, charming, and charismatic. He’s dominating and demanding, and infuriates her to no end. Despite the fact that he was the devil in disguise, Sorcha wanted him like no other, so signing on that dotted line was easier than it should have been.

  But Rian started to show her a different side, a gentler side that had her falling harder for him. She wanted to hate him, but the longer she stayed with him, the more she gave herself over. Sorcha knew leaving him once the contract was up would be one of the hardest things she’s ever done.

  Reader note: This story was previously published under the title Under His Terms. Although the story itself is the same as before, it has since been re-edited, revised, and new content added.

  1

  Rian Hartford had been called many things, with the more pleasing ones being charming, wealthy, charismatic, and attractive. For only being thirty-seven he was one of the wealthiest men in America. But to be at the top like that meant a man had to have a certain amount of bitterness in his life, and Rian had that tenfold.

  Sorcha Case knew just about everything there was to know about Mr. Hartford, and not because she was his secretary. His reputation was what scandals were made of, but he couldn’t care less about what others thought. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he liked. He was a cocky bastard for sure. After working for the man for the last six months, she had learned his daily routine, his love interests, or lack thereof, and his moods. The latter was more of his cool exterior, arrogant persona, and displeasure with anything that he didn’t think suited his needs. But then again when a man such as he ran a multi-billionaire dollar company, had several smaller entrepreneur businesses on the side, and had a slew of eligible socialites clawing to get into his bed, maybe he had to be a bastard to get through it all.

  He played the part well, that was for sure. Being pleasant when the time called for it was what he did best, and even though Sorcha had this hatred for a part of him, she also admired the side of Rian Hartford that didn’t take shit from anyone. More times than not she tried to look past the domineering and hardened exterior, but he wore it like a second skin. Surely the devil could take on many forms, because she could have sworn the man in the expensively tailored suits came straight from hell.

  But despite all of that, despite all of the internal monologues she recited to herself when it came to him, Sorcha had this sick desire for her boss. She wanted him in the worst kind of way, but she was able to keep that lust in check, because showing it would be a weakness. Sorcha was sure as hell not going to be another notch on his bedpost, because when Rian had his fun he discarded the women like they bored him.

  Sorcha heard the elevator ding and knew Rian was right on time. She glanced at the clock, saw that it was exactly seven in the morning, and gritted her teeth as she slowly rose to greet him. She had made sure all of his appointments were in order, because he’d come right toward her, not speak to her besides a crisp “Hello”, and take his portfolio. Sorcha had been here since six A.M., and had already done more things in that hour than most people did in half a day.

  The elevator slid open, and she grabbed the portfolio with all of Mr. Hartford’s appointments for the day perfectly labeled and divided, and turned to face him. He stood in the center of that metal, yet elegant box. His head was downcast, his focus on the smartphone he held in his hand. Without looking up he moved out of the elevator, his black cashmere Burberry duster moving around his knees as he came closer. Already she smelled his No.1 Clive Christian cologne, and damn her body for warming and tingling to the scent.

  “Miss Case,” Rian said in his deeply masculine, yet cold as ice, voice. He stopped at her desk, his focus still on that damn phone, and his other hand holding his two thousand dollar black briefcase.

  “Your appointments for the day, sir.”

  He slipped his phone in the inner pocket of his jacket and looked at her with his blue eyes that were just as cold and arrogant as the rest of him. He might be intelligent, might be wealthy, but his attitude turned her off like nothing else in this world. With his gaze locked on her she felt this chill move over her, like she was bared to him. It was annoyance and arousal all wrapped into one, and she hated herself for wanting him as much as she did. Before she could give him the rundown of his day, he grabbed the folder, looked down at it, and turned to head through the massive steel and oak double doors to his office.

  When they were shut with an audible click, she breathed out and sat back down. The entire top floor of the Hartford and McNamara building was Rian Hartford's office, but then again he was the co-owner of the entire building. With the other half being owned and run by the McNamara Law Firm, this skyscraper was one of the most powerful and successful businesses in New York.

  She glanced at the office, at the décor that was tastefully simple, but elegant at the same time. The view right across from her desk was stunning. They were seventy-five stories up, and she had thought on more than one occasion, because of the frustration she felt daily working for him, that she wished she could have just jumped from the window. Of course that was a figurative thought, because no matter how infuriating Rian Hartford was, and for as much as she wanted him, she stuck through his bullshit.

  The phone rang, drawing her out of her musing and murderous thoughts.

  “Hartford office, how may I help you?” Sorcha said and turned toward her computer to enter in the information the caller gave her. “Mr. Hartford just came in, but I’ll certainly pass the message along.
” She glanced up when she heard the heavy footfalls coming from the other side of the doors, and then watched them open wide. Rian had this annoyed look on his face as he held the memo she had set on his desk just this morning. For a man so electronically and technologically advanced with his real estate and entrepreneur businesses, he was all about getting his daily schedule in the form of paper on his desk. But Sorcha had a feeling he made her do it because he knew damn well the annoyance he caused her by having her write his messages down by hand day in and day out.

  “I said push back the Anderson meeting to ten,” Rian all but growled before stopping right in front of her desk. He slammed the memo right in front of her, and the small items on her desk rattled from the force of his actions.

  Sorcha ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. She stared at the man that infuriated her on a daily basis. God, he was gorgeous, and she hated him even more because of it. There also had to be a sick part of her deep down inside because hearing him use his “pissed” voice did something between her thighs. She tingled, grew wet, and felt this undeniable need to have him bark out orders to her while she was in nothing but her flesh. There he stood, in that damn suit and bowtie, his nostrils flaring because she had yet to respond, and then crossing his arms in impatience. She didn’t know anyone that even wore bowties anymore, but she couldn’t deny that he made something that sounded silly, look really damn good.

  “Well, Miss. Case?” he gritted out, and there was that flash of assholishness that had her thinking about reaching up and wrapping her hands around his too perfect neck and squeezing hard. Everything about him was too damn perfect. From his dark hair that was brushed stylishly away from his forehead, to his hard, square jaw, and perfectly placed eyes, nose and full lips. Hell, the man was GQ personified.

  If she didn’t need this job so damn badly, want Rian like a damn fiend, and if her friend, Cora, hadn’t gotten her the position, she would have left.

  No, you wouldn’t, because for as much as you are irritated with him, there is this pull you have to Rian that makes you a masochist to his sadistic tendencies.

  “Mr. Hartford, remember, I explained that Mr. Anderson couldn’t push the meeting back.” She stared into his blue eyes, and willed herself not to snarl out the words. “You’ve canceled two other times, and agreed to do it this morning.” This man was a cocky bastard deep down, a man that she would have slapped on any other occasion just from the expression he wore most of the time.

  He picked up the memo and crumpled the sheet in his hand before tossing it on her desk again. “If I can’t count on you to make sure my appointments are scheduled when I need them, then I’m not sure what good you are to me.”

  Her anger rose. She had kept her mouth shut these last six months, worked through his tirades, because she needed this job like she needed to breathe. It wasn’t easy finding a decent paying job in New York, especially when she had money problems of her own. But she was done with this. She knew he had gone through four other secretaries before Sorcha had started working for him. So, it wasn’t just her, because this man brought infuriating to a whole other level.

  “You…” She bit her tongue, and stood, staring at him as hard as he was staring at her. He cocked a dark eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to finish.

  “Something on your mind, Miss Case?”

  She bit her tongue when she saw him smirk ever so slightly.

  “Just do your job, or I’ll find someone who can.” He turned from her before she could respond, and slammed the doors shut behind him.

  “You asshole,” she said under her breath and sat back down. Thank God it was Friday, because her friend, Cora, was taking her out for a good, hard drink.

  2

  Rian had heard Sorcha call him an asshole, and he couldn’t help but grin despite his anger. The woman infuriated him, but not because she was incompetent. She was the opposite, and always had everything in order. To be honest Rian had never found a secretary that picked up as fast as Sorcha had. But he didn’t want to think of Sorcha Case as anything more than what she was, because wanting her in his bed, under him, and his cock buried in her curvy little body was not a line he even wanted to cross.

  What annoyed him was this attraction he had toward her. He knew he was a difficult man, but that was how he had gotten to where he was in life. A weak man wouldn’t own and run what he did at only thirty-seven, and he wasn’t about to change to appease anyone. He walked over to his floor to ceiling window and stared at the bustling city of New York below. Sorcha had been working for him for less than a year, and even though he had been romantically involved with a few of his secretaries in the past, that had always led to disastrous situations.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, he stared at the sight before him. There was an overcast sky, and it matched his fucked-up mood. After some minor drama with some news tabloids he was in a pissy ass mood. The buzzer on his intercom went off, but he didn’t turn around.

  “Mr. Hartford, Lawson Trainfore is on line one,” Sorcha said, and when he didn’t respond the line clicked off. He turned and faced the phone, knowing that if his PR rep was calling him this early then it was because of the paper and the article he had read about himself this morning. He sat at his desk and picked up his phone.

  “Lawson, hello.”

  “Rian, have you see the paper this morning?”

  Rian breathed out and rested his head against the back of his chair. “Yes, unfortunately.”

  “Seems like another one of your past lovers leaked incriminating information about you.”

  He rubbed his eyes. “There were only a few that were disgruntled, Lawson, and that wasn’t because I was an asshole to them. They knew what I wanted, and that a relationship was not in the future for us. It is hardly my fault that they grew attached after only a few nights of sex.”

  “Rian, I’m not worried that Miss Virginia Harrison is claiming that you made her ass so red she couldn’t even sit down for several days after that…”

  Rian grinned.

  Lawson cleared his throat. “Well, I won’t get into the specifics, but having your name splashed across the newspaper because you like spanking your sexual partners with fervor is bad for your image.” So Rian liked a little smack on the ass of the women he fucked here and there. It wasn’t like he was a fiend for it, and he certainly didn’t do it every time he had sex. “Maybe I shouldn’t have spanked the ass of Senator Harrison’s daughter, but she was so prim and proper that I couldn’t help myself.”

  Lawson started speaking about technicalities, and Rian looked out his window again. “Anything I did with any of my sexual partners in the past, present, or in the future, was and always will be consensual. I only skimmed the front page, but is Miss Harrison claiming otherwise?” Maybe Rian should have cared more, or been more concerned that yet another one of his past partners had gone to the media. But he wasn’t. This wasn’t the first time someone he had fucked had come out and said what they had done, and most likely wouldn’t be the last either.

  “No, she says everything you two did was consenting—”

  “So she did it to garner attention, like the rest of them, because they were pissed I didn’t want anything more than a few hours of fucking.”

  Lawson cleared his throat, and Rian could picture the elderly man adjusting on his seat from what was probably a very uncomfortable conversation for him. Rian scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “It’ll blow over like it always does.”

  There was a knock on the door, and then Sorcha was pushing it open and walking in. She held his tablet that would have all of his pertinent information for the day loaded on it. He enjoyed actually looking at hard copies of what he was to do for the day, but it wasn’t because he was trying to make things harder for her. There were a lot of things that could go wrong with technology, and he was definitely old fashioned when it came to that aspect in his life.

  “How do you want to proceed? We can fire back with a public
statement—”

  “No, let Miss Harrison have her day, and tell the media and public whatever the fuck she wants.”

  “Rian, I would suggest we not proceed that way. I think we should make a formal announcement—”

  “No.” He cut off Lawson again and kept his gaze trained right on his secretary. Sorcha set the tablet on the table in front of him, and they made eye contact briefly. “She can’t do much harm. Besides, it isn’t like a few women I fucked in the past haven’t told the public.” He stared right into Sorcha’s eyes as he said the words. Although he knew being so blunt about the women he had screwed right in front of her was a douche-bag thing to do, there was this side of him that liked getting a rise out of her.

  Her eyes flared wide for a second, and then narrowed. She turned around and headed to the doors, and he zeroed in on her ass. Fucking hell, she wore that damn pencil skirt like it was a fucking second skin. He could even see the slight crease between the mounds every time she took a step.

  She wasn’t like the stick-thin socialites he associated with, stuck his dick in, and dominated. No, Sorcha was a breed of woman all her own, and damn her for making him want her the way he did. Her ass was two round, big fleshy globes, and he curled his finger into his palms so he didn’t call her back over and get slapped with a sexual harassment claim.

  Her hair was down today, and the onyx colored locks brushed her lower back. Her light amber colored eyes had been more expressive today, and when she glanced over her shoulder her gaze was filled with a hint of malice. Rian imagined her hair in his hand as he pulled her head back and made her throat arch for him. He’d be behind her, and she’d be on her hands and knees. His cock got hard. Fucking hell, did it get hard for her. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought about a woman and gotten so damn stiff that he had to shift in his seat and adjust his dick just to relieve the fucking pressure.