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She sighs, her eyes dropping, but she answers, scratching at her lovely hip as she does. “Personally, yes. Professionally, no.”
I narrow my eyes, needing to understand. This is maybe even more important than even the interview itself. “Explain.”
She drops her pizza to the box, climbing up to her knees and sitting back on her heels. I refuse to be enticed by the sight of her breasts pressed between her arms, but she’s still so sexy and beautiful, it’s hard not to notice.
“Okay, so look, there’s this woman at my office, Francesca. She’s ambitious, always wants the best assignments, and if I’m honest, she’s a pretty good writer. But she gets the cherry assignments because she’s sleeping with the boss. Our gross, older boss.”
I’m looking at her, still not sure where she’s going.
“And because she slept her way to those assignments, it doesn’t matter how well she writes them. She could be Mark fucking Twain, and everyone will discount her because of the way she got there. I don’t want to be that girl. I’m a good writer, and this series means something to me. It’s my first shot at something real and not just . . . well, rumor mill tabloid fodder. And I think it means something to your fans and is good for your image. But I’m not the woman who trades for inside information on her knees.”
My gut tightens as my blood boils. “Have I done anything to make you think this is a quid-pro-quo situation? That I’m going to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets because I fucked you?” I know my voice is too loud by the way she winces at my reply.
Elise’s head drops, her chin almost touching her chest as she shakes her head.
My voice is hard, even as I work to quiet my volume. “Is that why you fucked me?”
I’m holding my breath as I wait for her to answer. She doesn’t realize that it may be the most important question I’ve asked her the whole time I’ve known her.
Elise’s eyes snap to mine, her cheeks flushing with anger as she squares her shoulders, glaring at me as she yells. “No! Of course not. That’s why I’m so fucking torn up. I wanted this. Hell, I want to do it again right now. But I shouldn’t when it could mess up everything I’ve worked so damn hard for. But you’re just so damn . . . irresistible. You drive me fucking crazy.”
I pounce on her in reply, slamming her to the bed underneath me and covering her mouth with a kiss, demanding entry and tangling my tongue with hers. Our bodies press together, and even though I’ve come twice in the past two hours, I can feel a tingle in my cock as it starts to raise its head again.
Once she’s breathless and I know she’ll be quiet for a second, I pull back, looking into her sapphire eyes. “You drive me fucking crazy too. No, we shouldn’t be doing this. For more reasons than you know, but someone I consider pretty smart told me that if I fight this, I’ll regret it. So I’ll take what I can get with you, Elise. We do the interviews, you do the stories, and whatever this is . . . it’s between us, not a thing to do with your work. Can you handle that?”
She bites her lip like she’s actually considering what I’ve proposed, and at first, it pisses me off. I’m laying it all out there and she’s fucking hesitating. But then I realize I’m not laying it all out there. And as much as I’m holding back, she’s making a pretty ballsy career move by agreeing to be with me outside of the interviews, and suddenly, I appreciate that she’s considering so carefully.
While she thinks, I decide to tilt the odds in my favor and I move in, suckling a spot in the curve of her neck I found that she likes, and she leans to the side, giving me more access. It’s all I need. I know I’ve won. I give her tender skin a little more, biting gently, just enough to leave a mark, but I know it’ll fade in minutes as I lick over the spot, soothing the sting.
Elise sighs happily, stroking her fingers down my back. “I can handle it.”
I grin into her shoulder before pulling her back up to sit opposite me, and I sit back, recognizing that my cock is half-hard . . . guess I do need at least a little bit of time before I’m ready for full action again.
“Fine. You’ve got thirty minutes before I take over again . . . so hit me. What questions do you have?”
She looks flustered, my move from seduction to business making her spin. “What?”
I raise my eyebrows at her, teasing as I set a timer on my phone. “Thirty minutes. Twenty-nine and fifty seconds now. Better get some questions done or article three is gonna be a hard write.” I scold her teasingly.
