Page 63 of Dirty Temptation

I have no rights to this man, yet here I am grinding my teeth and trying to search for some other words to say exceptwho the hell was that.

I push the emotions back and point along the beach. “I better keep walking. It’s cold like you say. See you back at the house.”

I step backward a few steps, heading toward the other end waiting for him to say goodbye.

Altas follows, his eyes dipping to my lips. “Care for some company?”

Just like that my body flares to life in reaction and I want to scream at it for being a traitor. I find it impossible to not respond to this man.

He knows it too.

His lip quirks and I groan. “Not that kind of company.”

He surprises me by taking my hand and leading me along the sand. “I don’t always mean sex. Maybe I just want to talk.”

I doubt it.

“Okay, what do you want to talk about?” I test him.

“Tell me about your company,” Atlas asks.

Oh.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s serious.

“I’m a marketer,” I say, pulling my hand from his and sinking them both into my hoodie pocket.

“So...marketing is pretty broad. Are you offering strategic services or social media? Advertising?”

I like that he knows that, and his interest isn’t just a token gesture. This is a side to Atlas I’ve never seen before. It’s always been sexual between us, or he’s been bantering with his brothers.

I find myself relaxing and opening up. I tell him more about what my business currently offers and how I plan to grow.

“Strategy, but my strengths lie in advertising creatives. I used to work with Payton.”

“That’s how you met.” He nods and I do the same back.

I smile and reach down, picking up a shell.

“Do you like your job? Or does it not feel like a job when you work for your family company?” I glance over at him.

Sometimes Atlas is so handsome it takes my breath away. His jaw, dusted with dark hair, is strong and sure. His deep blue eyes seem to see right through me and challenge me to connect with him on a level I don’t know I ever could.

He’s smart, cheeky, and confident.

I’m not lacking in confidence in myself—trusting men, sure—but I know my strengths and weaknesses. Yet there’s a difference between us. One I can’t put my finger on.

Perhaps it’s the alpha dominant traits that I see come to life when we’re intimate?

Atlas smiles, glancing out to sea. “I get up each morning, same as you, Molly. I have to do a day’s work, and I take home a paycheck.”

“More than I used to get paid I’m sure,” I say, then close my eyes, regretting my words. “Sorry. That was dumb.”

He laughs, and I feel his hand on my lower back.

I like his touch.

It feels warm and caring.

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