Page 19 of Legally Yours

His forearms, fencing either side of my head, flexed with tension. Was he holding himself back or bracing for my resistance? Sterling leaned in close enough that our cheeks were almost touching. His breath whispered across my skin. All my righteousness was quickly fading.

“Can you tell me you didn’t want me to strip you down right there, in front of the fire, and take you?”

He grazed the tip of his nose down my neck, eliciting goose bumps in its wake and a small, traitorous moan from the back of my throat. He growled back, low and fierce.

“Let me make you feel good,” he rumbled as one hand grabbed me around my waist. He pulled my body flush against his. “Please.”

“Ahh…” I moaned again. Purely by reflex, both of my hands threaded into the thicket of hair at the base of his neck and yanked.

He needed no more invitation. His lips conquered mine as he pressed me hard against the door with the length of his body. He sucked on my bottom lip like candy, tangled his tongue with mine again and again as if he couldn’t taste enough of me. His hands gripped my ass so hard I yelped, a sound quickly stifled with his lips. I was just starting to fumble with the buttons of his shirt when we were interrupted by the loud screech of the telephone on his desk.

I froze, suddenly aware that his secretary was on the other side of the door. The phone rang three more times and fell silent. Sterling pulled away, visibly annoyed.

“Jesus,” he gasped, staring as if seeing me for the first time. “Thatisquite a mouth on you.”

I didn’t say anything, just chewed on my bottom lip and avoided his searching gaze.

“Say yes,” he said as he buried his face into my neck. “Come to my house tonight, Red. We’ll figure it all out then.”

I almost did as his lips started to nibble their way to my ear. But my eyes caught the edge of the file still sitting on the couch—a reminder of just how businesslike he wanted this endeavor to be. Suddenly I saw a stack of bills left on a nightstand, like he might treat a cheap hooker. I saw myself rearranging my schedule to meethisneeds. Lying in bed, waiting for his phone calls until odd hours of the morning. Being pushed away the next day, treated like I was nothing.

I pushedhimaway forcefully, ignoring the confusion that clouded his handsome features and the way my skin yearned for his touch.

“No,” I said quietly. “And not in the kind of way where you should think I mean yes just because you kissed me. I just mean no. As in never.”

“Skylar, please, I—”

“I’m sure there are some escort services you can call to get what you want,” I said woodenly as I grabbed the doorknob. “You should have HR burn my file along with those goddamn shoes. I’d rather you didn’t have a way to contact me after I’m gone.”

I didn’t bother to wait for a response. My blouse had come untucked, and there was no way that my hair was anything short of a disaster. But I still managed to smile politely at Margie on my way out. She watched curiously as I passed, but somehow, I suspected that you didn’t become the assistant of one of the most powerful men in Boston without being able to keep your mouth shut.

I barely registered the slam of the large, heavy door as I walked back to the bottom floor, where I belonged.

Seven

“Why the fuck not?”

Jane’s reaction to Sterling’s proposal was not at all what I expected. From the kitchen, I looked at her like she’d grown horns. She just shrugged and went back to eating her ramen at the bar. It was the kind that came in individual cups of dried noodles and dehydrated spices—Jane’s version of comfort food.

“It’s not like he suggested a monthly rate or anything,” she said through a mouthful of noodles. “He made some good points. You’re busy. He’s busy. Neither of you has time for a relationship. What’s not to like about hot, weekly sex with a gorgeous billionaire, some new clothes, and a driver? Isn’t the Red Line down again this week?”

She shoved another bunch of noodles in her mouth with satisfaction, as if to say, “the prosecution rests.” I grimaced and pulled a container of matzo ball soup out of a paper bag. Jane wasn’t wrong, but Sterling had just been so damn businesslike about it. I felt like some acquisition, not a person.

“Do you even remember your last relationship?” Jane asked, gesturing with her chopsticks.

“No, not if I can help it. It’s why I don’t liketalkingabout him, Jane.” I tipped my soup into a bowl and padded around to sit next to her.

“Patrick was supposed to be your boyfriend, and he treated you like shit. He was jealous and clingy, and at the same time he was off nailing every easy piece of ass in Manhattan so he could give you VD as a parting gift,” she continued, disregarding my comment. “And I saw how freaked out you were by the idea of dating a guy like Jared, who is so safe he’s practically a blow-up doll. So maybe Sterling’s got the right idea. Drop the pretense of dating altogether. We—and by we, I do mean you—can’t afford right now to get wrapped up in a shitty relationship, and we clearly can’t handle a decent one. You could do this.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” I said as I scooped up a bite of dumpling and broth. It wasn’t as good as Bubbe’s, but it still reminded me of home, which I badly needed. “But still, I’d at least like the invitation to stay the night. So, you know, I feel like a person, and not a movie rental. Jesus.”

Jane stood up to clear her bowl, having demolished the entire container. Despite eating like a linebacker, the girl was a rail, blessed with a high metabolism aided by an occasional cigarette habit, unending coffee consumption, and a penchant for late-night activities.

“He did say you could spend the night,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, to sleep in separate rooms!” I cried out, flinging my spoon around. “Or separate apartments. You know, whatever’s mostconvenient!”

Jane stood on the other side of the counter, patiently waiting for me to quiet down.

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