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“Of course, sir.”
I got out of the car and gazed around before I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes. The heated summer sun of Los Angeles was always bright around this time of the day, and even with my sunglasses I had to squint. Cars drove past, heading for the main airport terminal while I stood there looking like a fucking asshat while I waited for some woman to show up.
I’d never once been the person waiting.
And I hated the sensation with all my might.
“You better come the hell on,” I murmured.
I checked my watch as the minutes ticked on by. 5:45. 5:50. 5:51. The closer it came to our take-off time, the more I relished the fight to come. My goals in the media were always accomplished. I practically tasted the salted tears that woman’s sister would cry as the doors closed on her pathetic catering business for good. However, right at 5:59, I heard a car pull up behind me.
Before the sound of a door opening forced me to turn around.
“You like playing things fast and loose, I see.”
Eden stepped her smooth, glistening leg out of the car. “How much did it take you to rent out this thing in an attempt to impress me?”
“See, now you’re just trying to hurt me. I’m hurt, Miss Rochere.”
She slammed the door behind her. “Good.”
My eyes worked their way down her body as the trunk of her car popped open. The white blouse that fluttered in the effortless wind that kicked up accented the prominence of her tits. Her tight pencil skirt gripped her waist and settled just beneath her knees, framing her hourglass shape in a way that made me salivate. I wanted to sink my teeth into her excess. I wanted to string her up with chains and beat that ass until it was red with the leather of my belt.
I wanted to devour her curves.
“So, are we boarding, or what?” she asked as her heels clicked past me.
I spun around and allowed myself a hefty glimpse of the rotund globes of her ass. I quickly reached into my car and pulled my bag out, then dismissed the nameless driver with a wave of my hand. I jogged to catch up to her stride, which was long and confident despite the fact that she was no taller than five-foot-six.
We boarded without another word exchanged between us.
And as I watched her pull out her laptop, I shook my head. “Uh, uh, uh. No work on these trips.”
She didn’t bother looking at me. “It’s not stipulated.”
“We noted in the agreement that work only accompanied you if we were to leave on a Friday morning. And clearly, it isn’t morning time.”
She pulled the NDA out and tossed it at me. “Nothing in that contract stipulates that I can’t work on things that had to come home with me. It’s been a busy week, and I have files I would’ve taken home with me anyway.”
“We had an agreement, Miss Rochere.”
And when she looked at me, the smirk that crossed her cheeks showed me the formidable opponent I was up against.
“Then, maybe you should have taken a look at what I actually wrote down before you signed the document.”
I paused before I picked the crumpled-up document she had tossed at my feet. I unraveled it as best as I could before flipping to the things she had jotted down, and right there—in plain sight—were the words “weekend files come along no matter what.”
I had to draw in a deep breath to keep from snatching her into my lap. To keep myself from yanking her up, bending her over, and spanking that ass for thinking she could get away with such bullshit tactics.
Then again, I always utilized those kinds of tactics.
“Fair enough,” I said as I kindly handed her the papers. “Just know that turnabout is fair play, Miss Rochere.”
She smiled as she tucked the papers away in her briefcase. “Good luck, Mr. Drake.”
I wouldn’t need luck, though. All I’d need is one night with her. One night with those curves, and that pussy, and those glorious blue eyes.
All I’d need was one night to show her exactly who she belonged to while on these trips.
Before I relinquished her back to her pathetic life and enacted loopholes of my own.
