Page 206 of Off Limits Mogul

“I understand she needs to feed her children, but that isn’t the way to do it,” Cecilia says.

“As my publicist says, I’m a low hanging fruit and Margaret is determined to milk it.”

Cecilia crosses her arms and leans back against her chair, her lips curled up in disdain. “Whatever happened to common decency?”

“Apparently, it can be sold to the highest bidder.”

Based on what I was able to read online, Jedd Maitland is lucky to be alive. He narrowly escaped with his life, unlike the man who caused the accident in the first place. According to the reports, the careless drunk had enough alcohol in his system to down an elephant.

Without her partner in crime, aka Jedd, Margaret Camden cranked up her defamation campaign and took her one-woman show on the road. The tell-all article Jedd threatened me with was never published. I can only assume he never wrote it since it’s been mum’s the word from theHollywood Heraldcamp. Chelle’s mom on the other hand can’t seem to shut the fuck up. She’s willing to tell her story, knitted with lies, to anyone willing to listen.

My new publicist advised me to ignore her, which I’ve done. I only made one statement––right after the accident when I was still in the hospital––to rebut Margaret’s ludicrous comments. She dared to compare me to the angel of death, blaming me for Jedd’s accident. There are cameras in every corner in LA. The video footage tells the story like it happened, disproving Margaret’s grotesque lies.

I’m woeful things turned out the way they did with Chelle and her mom, but it’s no fault of mine. They changed.

“Oh, well.” I shrug. I refuse to let Margaret ruin my day. “Let me go poke my head inside my boyfriend’s office before he’s too busy to remember about me.”

“Like that’s ever likely to happen,” Cecilia says.

“A girl can never be too cautious,” I say.

She laughs.

With a spring in my step, I close the short distance to my man’s office.

“Knock, knock, knock.” I rap my knuckles against the door.

The door swings open.

A tall, delicious man flashes me a sexy smile before he circles an arm around my waist, pulling me to him.

“Get in here,” he says.

He closes the door shut behind us.

“Well, hello to you, too––”

Rhys’s lips crash against mine.

He slides his tongue inside my eager mouth, flirting with mine, ratcheting my desire and devouring my mouth in a domineering display of possessiveness I’ve come to crave.

A soft moan escapes my throat.

My neglected nipples harden beneath my blouse, begging for his touch, his mouth, and his cock. I love when he teases the peaks of my nipples with the engorged head of his cock.

Oh, God.

My lady bits pulse.

I tell myself the light-headedness hitting me is because I’m walking on sunshine after my epic morning, and not because of the man I can’t live without. I know better. Kissing Rhys is an experience so intense, I feel it all the way down to my toes.

“Fuck, I missed you, dimples,” he says, pulling away from me. His voice is rough.

“I’ve missed you, too, Rhys.”

“Let me take you in,” he says, taking a step back. “Give me a twirl.”

I drop my designer handbag on the console near the door and grant his wish.