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Authors: Annabelle Eaton

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BOOK: Crossing the Line
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“Aden,” someone says from behind us making
us both jump. Aden shakes hands with his dad and then they both turned to me.
“Amelie, how are you settling in?” he asks politely.

“Great thank you, Mr Ford.”

“Please, call me Richard.” I nod and shake
his outstretched hand. “Let’s get in there then.”

We sit around a huge table and are joined
by a woman that I vaguely recognise as Richard’s PA, but I’m not introduced to
her so I can’t be sure. I take out my notebook as Richard starts the meeting,
talking about this brand new arena that’s almost complete and who they’re
getting to take part in the opening concert – many artists from Aden’s
record company. Personally I want Beyoncé and Green Day.

As Aden talks about which artists will take
part, he’s animated again, siting forwards in his seat, smiling and gesturing
as he speaks. I love seeing him so excited; it’s infectious, and I feel
myself smiling along with him.

It doesn’t pass me that every so often he
shifts in his seat, brushes his leg against mine and half smirks in my direction.
Bastard. Every touch is electric, and my body bursts to life again. I want him.
Now. He knows that too and he’s teasing me, torturing me.

I compose myself and decide a little
payback is in order. Thankfully he’s to my left so I can still use my right
hand to take notes so this will look less suspicious, not that anyone but Aden
is even paying one ounce of attention to me anyway. I could probably whip my
top off and let the girls out without any of them batting an eyelid.

With my left hand now safely under the
table, I reach across and squeeze the top of his leg. His body stiffens and his
eyes widen a fraction. I bite my lip to control my slutty side that just wants
to drag him back to my office, or the bathrooms – they’re closer.

Aden’s erection is bulging against his
smart black suit trousers when my hand reaches his crotch, and I smile to
myself. How awkward will it be if the meeting suddenly ends and he has to stand
to shake everyone’s hand! The thought sends a thrill through me. That’d teach
him for starting this game.

“I want only the best, Aden,” Richard says.

“I don’t sign bad artists, Dad,” he replies
without missing a beat. His voice is even but his hand fisted on his knee gives
him away. “You can put your faith in the label.”

Richard nods. “I know I can.” They seem to
have worked through their issues that they undoubtedly had when Aden took off,
and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to do the same with my parents. I hope so
because I do love them and I do want a relationship with them.

Once the meeting is over I walk back to the
office with Aden. Unfortunately, he put an end to the rubbing about five
minutes before the meeting ended. He knew it was wrapping up and pinned my hand
to his knee.

Without saying a word, he gestures for me
to go in his office. Should I be worried that he hasn’t said anything? As soon
as he closes the door behind us he stares at me with a look of pure lust and my
insides turn to mush.

I’m about to say something –
apologise for carrying it on so long in the meeting – when he grips my
hips, slamming me against his door. His lips seal over mine in a scorching hot,
passionate kiss. The sexual tension from earlier erupts, he hitches my leg up,
and I wrap them both around his waist.

He moans into my mouth and arches himself
against me. His erection, begging to be freed from his trousers, rubs against
me in the most delicious way. I shudder as he again rubs his hardness against
me, setting every nerve ending on fire.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and we
leap apart, panting. Aden rearranges his trousers and takes a deep breath while
I flatten my hair and sit down on the spare chair by his desk.

His eyes flit to me, making sure I’m ready
before he opens the door. Richard and his PA, who I found out is called Amanda,
are standing before us, completely oblivious to what they almost walked in on.

“If you have a minute to spare this
afternoon I’d like to speak to you. Nothing important so there’s no rush,”
Richard says.

“Of course. Give me an hour or so.”

Richard nods. “I’m in the office all day so
whenever you’re ready.” He nods in my direction and turns on his heel, walking
off. Amanda scurries after him.

Aden shuts the door and turns to me. His
expression is unreadable, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. “Millie, about
that kiss,” he says, shifting on his feet awkwardly. “It shouldn’t have
happened.” He clears his throat. “I’m not saying I didn’t want it too because I
did. I still do actually but…”

“But what?” I ask.

He frowns. “I don’t know,” he replies.
“Shit I shouldn’t even be thinking about you this way, and I shouldn’t want you
this badly but I can’t stop.” He makes the few steps towards me, and before I
can blink; he pulls me out of the chair and grabbing me and pulling me out
of my chair and claims my lips again, picking up where we left off.

 

Chapter Five

 
 

I kiss him back aggressively, surprising
myself by how much I want him. Gripping my hands in his short blonde hair, I
push my body into his. He slips a hand up my top, moaning deeply at the back of
his throat as he snaps my bra open. I know that doesn’t count as foreplay, but
it’s about as much as I can take. I yank open his shirt, sending buttons flying
and run my hands down his sculpted, muscular chest until I reach his trousers.

Something inside me snaps and desire pools
in my belly. I know that nothing can stop me now. I frantically fiddle with his
zip, desperate for him to put out the fire that feels as if it’s seconds from
consuming me. “Aden,” I whimper when the fucking thing just won’t undo.

He chuckles against my lips and pulls the
zip down with ease.
Bastard.
I waste
no time in slipping my hand down his boxers. His grip tightens and he thrusts
his hips into my hand. My heart rate accelerates as I feel how hard he is. I
literally can’t wait to feel him inside me.

I let out an involuntary gasp, and my hand
is torn from his boxers. He rips my top off and pulls up my skirt so quickly I
almost don’t see or feel it.
Wow.
My skin
prickles at the dark look in his eye, and I realise this is going to be mind
blowing. I kiss his neck, making him groan and then he shuffles on the seat. I
bite the skin below his ear, and I’m rewarded with a hiss of fuck. He’s going to
be a sexual swearer for sure.

Deep down I know seeping with my boss is a
bad, bad idea, but I’m too lost and too turned on to care. His eyes are dark,
filled with lust and he looks at me for a brief second before covering his
mouth over mine.

He kisses me frantically as he lifts me up
and slowly pulls me down onto him. When did he remove his boxers? When did he put
a condom on? When I was being shuffled around? We both moan loudly, and I swear
everyone in the building must have heard it. Thank God he locked the door. He
did lock it, didn’t he?

“Aden,” I mumble against his lips, trying
to get his attention. He moans and kisses me harder, and I tug on his hair,
relishing the feel of his tongue against mine. I guess he doesn’t want to talk
and to be honest I can’t even remember what I was about to say anyway. My hands
leave his hair and I glide down his back, digging my nails into his skin.

Aden’s hand fists into my hair tilting my
head back and places toe-curling kisses over my neck and collarbone. I close my
eyes as the senses take over – I
really
like my neck being kissed.

I start to move, setting the rhythm slow at
first because I want to savour the feeling of him inside me. It feels too good.
My pulse races and I arch my back, pushing my hips back down harder and harder
every time.

Aden’s other hand runs up my thigh until he
reaches my waist, and I shudder. Having him touch me feels a million times
better than I imagined. He holds me there, fingers digging into my flesh a
little more every time I slam back down on him. He lays his head back against
the seat and looks up at me. His jaw snaps shut, eyes almost close and he groans
at the back of his throat.

My body tightens at the site of his
pleasure. I throw my head back and grip onto his shoulders as I shatter around
him much sooner than I expected. He follows, bolting up straight in the chair
and clinging to my body as he thrusts into me hard once more and then stills,
growling
fucking hell
through his
teeth.

We sit still for a few minutes, still
clinging to each other and trying to catch our breath. My head is lying lazily
on his shoulder, and one of his arms is holding me tight while the other is
under my shirt, gliding over my back.

I haven’t actually been this close to
anyone before. Well physically I have but my ex was a bit of a dick that would
pull out and immediately get back to his day or go to sleep. The one-night
stands were what they’re supposed to be – in and then out. Aden is the
first guy to properly hold me, and I make a note to put up somewhat of a wall
because I know that’s the beginning of the road to Heartbreak Ville. I don’t
want feelings to screw anything up.

He kisses my neck and chuckles like a
naughty schoolboy. “And I thought today was going to be boring.” I laugh too
and pull back. His blue eyes are shining. The post-sex look really agrees with
him. “You okay?” he asks.

I nod. I’ve actually never felt better.
“I’ve never slept with a boss before.”

“Millie, you’ve never had a boss before.
Hey, when you think about it, you’ve slept with one hundred per cent of your
bosses.” I glare. That statistic makes me sound like a whore. “If it makes you
feel better I’ve never slept with an assistant before.”

“You’ve never had an assistant before, Mister
one hundred per cent,” I say, felling significantly better. He smirks and
stands up, making me squeal and hold onto him tighter, so I don’t fall. He
stays inside me as he walks us over to the sofa. I close my eyes as I feel him
slowly slip out of me.

“Jesus,” he mutters, gritting his teeth.
“You’re tight. That isn’t the last time we’re doing that.” I blush but nod.
Absolutely with him on that one, I’d go again now if he didn’t have to speak to
his dad.

We get dressed quickly and as I’m pulling
my skirt into place I wait for the awkward ‘This shouldn’t have happened’
conversation to happen. No doubt he’ll say ‘Look, Amelie’ soon. I bite my lip
as I watch him wrap his shirt around his incredible chest, doing up the one
button that made it through my attack. He slings his jacket over the top, and
you’d never know.

“Want to get something to eat?” he asks,
looking up at me.

Trying to figure him out is so confusing I
can feel a headache coming on. Does he want that to happen again or is it a one
time only thing? Oh shit, does he now expect it? Is this why he wants an
assistant?

“Sure,” I mutter, lost in my thoughts of
being Aden’s employee with benefits. Not that I would mind sleeping with him
again, but I don’t want him to think he can just have it. He grabs his keys
from his desk. “Don’t you have to see your dad?”

He shrugs one shoulder, patting his pocket,
probably to make sure his wallet is in it. “He said anytime. I’ll go this
afternoon. Ready?”

I follow him out of the building, silently.
It’s not awkward, thankfully, but neither of us has anything to say. We reach
the car park, and he unlocks his car from a distance. Something dawns on me. He
said we’re doing it again as if he has claim to my body just because he’s my
boss.

“I’m not a prostitute,” I blurt out as we
climb into his car.

He turns in the driver’s seat and stars at
me with his mouth hanging open. My face bursts into flames. Why, why, why did I
just say it like that? Why can’t I think
before
I speak?

He shakes his head slowly. “You’re the
first person to leave me completely speechless, Millie.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply. “I was just thinking
out loud and... I don’t know. Sorry.” He chuckles quietly and starts the car.
Well this is just perfect, now he thinks I’m psychotic; bet he’s really glad
his dad chose to hire me.

We chat normally over dinner, and he
doesn’t mention the prostitute mishap. “Okay, Millie, I just want to make it
clear that this food isn’t payment for your services,” he says with a smirk. I
thought he’d brushed over it. Clearly I’m wrong.

I groan and look away, which makes him
laugh. That’s just great. I need a filter between my brain and my mouth. “Can
we drop it, please? I said something stupid. I know you don’t expect sex as
part of my job.”

His face fell. “I thought that was given?”

I almost spit the wine out of my mouth.
“Are you fucking serious?” He bursts out laughing, eyes shining with humour. Oh
he’s joking. “Oh very funny,” I mutter sarcastically.

 

We arrive back to the office, and I go
straight to the kitchen to make us both a coffee while Aden goes over the
details for a business trip to Dublin. He seems to go there a lot, but
apparently this is the final trip to sign some contracts and drink champagne.
I’m going with him, and even though I will probably be bored, sitting around in
meetings for hours, I can’t wait.

I walk back in Aden’s office, careful not
to spill the two cups of coffee. He’s printing something off as I set his mug
down. “Thanks, Millie,” he murmurs, looking up at me and stopping at my
breasts. Discrete. “This is for you.” He hands me what he’s printed. “You’re
sure you don’t mind coming along?”

“Isn’t that part of my job,” I reply,
looking it over. We’re going to be away for two nights and will have two
meetings. I assume the one on the second day is a less formal meeting and more
of a celebration as it was taking place in a restaurant.

“Well yes but we’ll be away on a Saturday,
so I don’t expect you to come.”

I laugh. “You think I’d rather spend the
day at home with my mum and sister?”

“You mean you wouldn’t?”

I raise my eyebrow and smirk. “Strange,
hey.”

 

The week few by and it’s time for Isabel’s
pimping out party. Aden isn’t coming tonight, lucky bastard. I wish I could
decline with some, clearly made up, excuse about working.

After the getting down and dirty in the
office event we’ve pretty much had sex at work wherever and whenever available.
I also have no idea where I stand with him. He seems pretty happy with no
strings sex – what young male wouldn’t – but then when he saw the
delivery guy flirting with me he turned arctic.

I sigh and look up, letting the make-up
artist apply mascara to my eyelashes. Something I’m perfectly capable of doing
for myself, but heaven forbid we don’t look pristine for tonight. I can’t see
her, but I feel Mum standing over me, like when you just know you’re being
followed at night.

“Do you think lighter or darker colours
will work better against her pale skin?” she asks the make-up artist, whose
name I don’t know because I was never introduced. I’ve been waiting for someone
to say it for the last half an hour now. I’ve refused a fake tan and Mum is
clearly still pissed off, but I didn’t care, I’m not going to look like a
Barbie for anyone.

I zone out as she continues her
conversation about how my looks can be improved.
Lovely, Mum.
I don’t even think she realises she’s being
insensitive, and I’m sure in her little world she’s not.

As soon as my make-up is done I jump up and
run out of the room as quickly as I can, not wanting to hang around to hear
what else about me needs to be fixed. “Walk, Amelie,” Mum calls down the hall.

I slam my bedroom door and head straight to
the bedside cabinet for my emergency vodka. My phone beeps with a text,
interrupting my quick binge drink, so I reluctantly put down the alcohol to
have a look. A smile creeps on my face as I see Aden’s name on the screen.

‘Have fun tonight!’
 
Wow he’s hilarious. He knows how much I
dread these parties, mostly because I make an idiot out of myself. Seriously,
though, I don’t understand how anyone can make it through them without needing
to be off their face.

‘Funny!’ I reply and throw myself down on
the bed.

‘You’ll be fine, just be yourself! Actually
forget that just TRY not to fall down and think before you speak.’

I narrow my eyes, wishing he could see the
death look I’m giving him. ‘Shut up!’

Tonight is going to be bad. I hope Isabel
finds someone, so I don’t have to endure one of these stupid events ever again.
I can still remember when Mum brought up the conversation with me just before I
went to University; she asked what I’m looking for in a man and said we would
start looking when I finished school. I chuckle to myself as I remember my
reply and her reaction. Apparently my Mother does not approve of big hot
muscular biker men with tattoos and an eyebrow piercing.

“Are you ready, Amelie?” Dad calls through
the door.

“Almost!” I shout back.

“You have five minutes. You need to be
downstairs before people start arriving.”

I push myself up, sighing in frustration.
“I know, Dad. I’ll be there in a minute.” How awful it would be if one of the
guests turned up before I did. I slip my dress on that was hanging above the
window and take a large mouthful of the vodka. Show time.

Mum, Dad, Isabel and some of the waiting
staff are talking to each other just in front of the door. Mum is giving them
instructions in her usual patronising voice. I think they know how to hand out
canapés.

“I don’t want to see anyone wondering
around with an empty tray, you go back to the kitchen and refill it straight
away. Also make sure no one is holding an empty glass.” They all nod, looking a
little terrified. She waves her hand and they quickly scatter off to the
kitchen. It is so hard to believe that I’m actually related to this woman.

“Ah at last, Amelie!” Dad says, sighing and
waving me over to a quiet corner. I was literally three minutes from when he
called me. “Now, tonight you’re on your best behaviour. You will be polite to
everybody, and you will not make any jokes of any kind, I mean it.” I want to
roll my eyes at his stern face, but I feel like I’m five again. Like I was
going to perform a strip tease or something else equally as ridiculous. I don’t
enjoy embarrassing myself, contrary to popular belief.

BOOK: Crossing the Line
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