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“… a mistake.” I replay last night in my head; the words Kaan spoke to me, the way his lips felt on my skin, the way I felt being wrapped in his arms—I never imagined a man could be so passionate. Just thinking about it sends shivers racing through me. But that doesn’t change the fact that it shouldn’t have happened. “Nothing more, nothing less. A mind-blowing mistake, but still a mistake.”
“You’re wrong.”
I glance over at the naked man in my bed, the white sheet low enough that it doesn’t quite hide his morning glory that I had been impaled on only hours earlier. I mumble and climb out of bed, ripping the sheet off him to protect what little is left of my modesty, but leaving Kaan with his legs crossed casually, his arms behind his head, and butt-naked on my bed.
“You know most girls would give their left tit to be fucked by a rock star.”
My skin heats with anger. I’m in no the mood to joke around. “You’re so bloody crass, you egotistical prick.”
His mouth curves into a smirk, revealing that damn tiny dimple in his right cheek again. “Yeah, I am.”
I have never hated a dimple more than I do right at that moment.
“You hold tight onto whatever fantasy you need to get you through your day, Kaan.”
Whatever thoughts I have about my career or my life in general flies out the window as my eyes travel down his chest, past that glorious V-line and to his… ugh!
“Why don’t you take a picture? It lasts longer.”
My eyes snap back to his face, back to that irresistible dimple. “You just don’t get it, do you?”
“You’re a bit of a bitch in the morning, aren’t you?”
“And you’re an asshole.”
I throw open my wardrobe, grabbing whatever is closest so I can escape to the bathroom.
Kaan leans back against the bedhead, not at all phased by his cock now standing erect, ready for some attention. His hand falls to his cock and he squeezes it lightly. “Come here.”
How is this man so bloody conceited that he just thinks I’ll ignore everything I’ve just said and fall back into bed with him?
He’s a rock star, Meg. Everyone wants Kaan’s jolly roger between their legs … even you!
“No.”
Kaan’s eyes flicker dangerously at me. “I said, come here.”
“You don’t get to order me around.”
“I do, actually. You work for me.”
“As your social media strategist not your whore.”
“You’re fired then.”
“You can’t fire me!”
“I just did.”
“You’re firing me because I won’t have sex with you?”
“No, I’m firing you because you need to understand what’s happening here.” He bites his lip as he tugs on his cock. Watching him with his hand wrapped around his cock makes my stomach flutter and the blouse in my hand drops to the floor. A rush of hot moisture slicks my folds. “There’s got to be a fat, bald, man in your office whom I won’t be inclined to want to have sex with.”
“You think this is a joke?” Even I can hear the anger is wavering in my tone. Stay strong, Meg. “This is my career we’re talking about.”
Kaan scowls at me, fierce enough to make a grown man quake. I audibly gulp as he jumps up and stalks across the room towards me. He looks like he wants to devour me, and I know if he touches me, I won’t be able to say no.
I dart across the room to escape but with nowhere to really hide I back myself against the sofa. He rips the sheet off me, tossing it to the floor. Sparks rush over my skin, as my body flares to life.
