Games Girls Play. Deanna Lee
for a while. Maybe they didn’t realize it was him and only just discovered they’d caught someone famous on their camera.”
“Or they have more goodies to share and that’s just the start. I think we’ll see another video or maybe pictures any day now.”
“Well, it isn’t like the world hasn’t seen his bare ass already.” I glared at him when he laughed. It was one of the reasons my company had been hired to manage his image. He’d been caught in the Bahamas skinny-dipping with a woman. “And a sex tape could make us all some money.”
“That’s un-fucking-believable….” He stopped, obviously at a loss as to how to deal with such a prospect.
“Kristen is running through ideas for a public statement and we still need to get in touch with Joshua’s agent. In the meantime, tell the answering service that they can stop taking phone calls for our firm and please do not turn our voicemail on. I don’t want five hundred messages waiting for us tomorrow.”
He was back up and pacing by the time I hung up the phone. “Gary is on vacation with his wife and kids. I’m sure he’ll call me as soon as he gets back to his hotel room and catches wind of this.”
Gary Moorsey was his agent and had been since the day Joshua had come to the United States. “Don’t you think we should call him?”
“He told me he wasn’t carrying his cell phone to freaking Disney World. I’m sure he’s trying to play grab-ass with Snow White even as we speak.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Gary was from all accounts faithful to his wife but he was fond of the female ass in such a way that I always made sure that he never got in proximity of mine.
How bad was it really? Atlanta’s new soccer star coming out of a fetish club with two women? I bit down on my bottom lip. It was bad enough. It would amuse men, outrage militant feminists, and set the devoutly religious on a tirade that could last for months.
“So what else are you hiding?”
“Pardon me?”
“Look, I was under the impression that you were keeping your nose clean. No skinny-dipping, no loud parties with barely clothed college girls, and the last time I checked you were dating a very respectable lawyer. Now look at you.” I waved my hand toward the television.
“That is a year old, at least,” he reminded me through clenched teeth. “I have done my level best to remain within the image plan you set up for me. I don’t drink to excess, not even at home. I wear the right clothes, with the right logos. I wear the right fucking shoes when I run on my own goddamned street. I joined the gym you suggested; I go to the parties you determine are good for my image.”
Okay, so he was mad. I forced myself to remain perfectly still under his gaze as I considered what I should say. I knew he hated the endorsement deals, the image management. It wasn’t hard to imagine how it must have felt to wear workout clothes not because they were comfortable but because someone paid him to. “Okay, so the lawyer?”
“She started hinting that she wanted a ring. So I pushed her off.”
He said it as if she’d demanded he get a sex change or something. “Joshua.” His name left my mouth in an exasperated rush.
“What?” he demanded. “Can’t a man find a steady piece of ass who won’t be mentally shopping for a wedding dress within six months?”
“You’re twenty-nine years old.”
“So?”
“Don’t you want to have some sort of permanent relationship?”
“Not with a workaholic lawyer who put my bank balance at the top of the ‘yes’ column of her list of reasons to marry me.”
I tried not to laugh. Honestly. But he looked so genuinely…vexed that I couldn’t help it. I laughed, hard. When I could I brushed away tears, took a deep breath, and asked the question that got me into so much delicious trouble. “Was ‘he spanks my ass’ at the top of her ‘no’ column?”
His lips tightened into a thin line and he stilled. “Are you baiting me on purpose or are you genuinely interested in what it would feel like to have the flat of my hand on that pretty ass of yours?”
I clamped my mouth shut to keep it from dropping open in shock and cleared my throat. “I think we should continue this discussion in my office in the morning.” Standing up from the chair, I begged myself not to blush and walked toward my front door. It was mission essential that I get him out of my apartment as fast as possible.
He caught my arm as I passed him and pulled me toward him with a quick jerk. I sucked in a deep breath as he brought me around to face him. “You didn’t answer my question, love.”
“Don’t call me that.” I looked over his pretty face and tried to remind myself that I was in front of one of the biggest womanizers I knew. “And don’t look at me like you want me, either.”
Joshua used his free hand to touch my face, trailing his fingers along the line of my jaw. My stomach clenched as I imagined those same gentle fingers moving down my throat to the swell of my breast. Would they be firm, knowing on my nipples, or tentative? Would he explore a woman or take her over in a rush of physical pleasure? The thought of either option had my pulse racing and my mind reeling.
The consequences of getting involved with a client, especially one like him, were overwhelming. It wasn’t easy running a PR firm in a male-dominated world where millions of dollars were tossed around like confetti. I hadn’t gotten to where I was without ambition and self-control. For a year, I’d managed to keep my small attraction to him a secret, yet now all of that was falling to pieces around me.
“Why shouldn’t I want you?”
“You said that I deserve better than a man like you.” I lifted my chin and tried to look unaffected.
“Yes.” He pulled me close and brushed his lips over mine. “I certainly did. I’m too hard for a woman like you. I play too rough. It would be dangerous for us to indulge in such desires.”
I bit back a moan as he kissed his lips across my jaw and then downward along the column of my throat. “Joshua.”
“Are you just curious, love?” He released my arm and slid both hands down my back and over my ass. “Or are you excited because you know what kind of pleasure we can give each other?”
Each brush of his lips, the soft sweeping motions of his hands, belied the hard and unyielding lover I assumed he would be. “This can’t happen.”
Why the hell wasn’t I pushing him away? My body relaxed in his hold, accepted the way his hands maneuvered and controlled me. Control. I craved it on some deep level I could barely fathom. Perhaps I always had. Everything about my professional world was within my control. The desperate need to grab a hold of my life and my future had driven me through college at a breakneck pace, forcing me into the business world with a small loan and a fierce need to survive and succeed.
Yet I also knew that sacrificing control could be just as rewarding. That power in the hands of the right person could drive me to the brink of madness, give me pleasure so intense that remembering it could make me come.
He slid one hand over my hip and upward across my rib cage, and captured one aching breast before I could figure out his intentions. His thumb brushed over my nipple. It hardened even further and I locked my knees together to keep from leaning fully into his embrace. “It can happen if you let it.”
Could I? It went against every rule I had. The thought of giving myself over to this man had me weak with anticipation. Would our professional relationship survive such a shift in our personal dynamics? “We shouldn’t.”
He pinched my nipple and a bolt of pleasure/pain shot right to my pussy. My body dampened, soaking the crotch of my panties instantly.
“Do you want to know what turns me on, Tara? Do you want to know what