Page 170 of By His Rule

“Oh man, I’d love to see a Callahan hailing a cab on the sidewalk,” Cory says loud enough for Jamie to hear.

He laughs, although he covers it quickly in his attempt to be professional.

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I won’t tell anyone. Thank you, for Friday night, by the way. I really appreciate everything you did.”

Cory looks between us with a confused frown on his face.

“Anytime, Miss Lori.”

“Aww, my hero.” I swear he flushes from head to toe the second those words roll off my tongue.

“Sounds interesting,” Cory muses, discreetly tugging me away from Kian’s driver.

“Have a good evening, Jamie. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

He chuckles as we walk away, and I’m pretty sure I hear him say, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“So, what did Jamie, the hot driver, do?” Cory asks the second we’re out of earshot.

I let out a heavy sigh as I prepare to tell the story again. It’s not the story itself that bothers me, but the fact that I have to talk about Kian.

“I got stuck in the lift in my building. Jamie and Kian had to rescue me.”

“Oh. My. God. Tell me that was only the start of your night.”

“Christ,” I mutter. “Yes, Cory, it was only the beginning. After rescuing me, both my boss and his driver took me into my apartment and fucked me six ways to Sunday all freaking night.”

“Could you say that again but with less sarcasm so that I can at least pretend to believe it?”

“You’re a nightmare.”

“Sounds like a dream, if you ask me.”

“Please don’t dream about my boss,” I complain.

“Oh, come on. Your boss is one of the hottest men on earth. I don’t believe for a second that you haven’t had some kind of filthy dream about him.”

I don’t look over when his curious stare burns the side of my face.

“Oh my god, you have. Tell me everything.”

“I need at least three margs for this conversation.”

“Lucky for you, that’s exactly what is about to happen.”

Istumble through my front door—after Cory insists on riding the elevator up to my floor with me so I don’t have to navigate the stairs—way later than I should and after one too many cocktails for a Monday night. But fuck it.

My boss is an asshole who casts me aside for hot actresses. Who cares if I turn up a little late in the morning with a sore head?

Certainly not me. Kian Callahan can kiss my ass.

With my front door securely locked, I kick my heels off and crash into my bedroom, mentally listing all the things I need to do. Take makeup off. Put hair up. Shower. Pass out.

I manage to successfully get through my to-do list until the point of passing out, because I make the mistake of pulling my cell from my purse and checking my messages.

I have two. One that infuriates me on sight and another that stirs some excitement.

I go for Ryder’s first.

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