Perfectly Inappropriate Page 3

  “Yes.”

  “Rope?”

  Olivia hesitated. More and more she began to see how much she hadn’t tried and that was depressing as shit. “You know what, just check yes to everything on there. That’s the whole point of this, right? I won’t do this ever again. We both know that. So just check yes, and you’re right, I’m going to let fate lead the way.”

  Paige smiled. “Look at you. My logical girl turning all that logic on its head. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Olivia shrugged. “I have to do something different. The way I’ve been living isn’t working anymore. Besides, what can go wrong? I already hate my job, have had my heart broken, and have the house that I scrimped and saved for sitting empty because I can’t go back into that bedroom since it reminds me how alone I am.”

  “You’re not alone,” Paige said softly.

  “I know that you’re here for me, and I love you so much for that.” Olivia smiled back. “But I legitimately have nothing else to lose. Something has gotta give. So, this is me doing all things I would never have done before. I need to find a new me, and I think to do that I need to get out of my comfort zone.”

  Paige gave a firm nod. “That’s right, girl. It’s time to fuck your way out of rock bottom.” Then she checked yes to every item on the list.

  And Olivia chugged back the rest of her wine.

  * * *

  —

  A knock on the door had Noah Grant moving through the Tribeca-revered industrial art deco–style loft penthouse in Manhattan minutes before ten o’clock at night. He’d shed his suit from earlier in the day, and wore a New York Giants T-shirt and black workout pants. Surrounded by glass windows giving a bird’s-eye view of the New York City skyline, he walked on the cool marble floors in his bare feet. The three-bedroom, three-bathroom penthouse had a large foyer that led to a living room with a seventeen-foot ceiling and a wood-burning fireplace. The penthouse had belonged to Noah’s late grandfather, and being an only child, his parents had gifted him the property when his grandfather passed away a handful of years back.

  When he opened the front door, he found Jared on the other side. The folder in his hands indicated that Jared had gotten what Noah needed. “Thanks for working late tonight.” He stepped out of the way to allow Jared to enter.

  “No worries,” said Jared, a black hat covering his dirty-blond hair. His dark brown eyes were calm and steady, as always.

  “Let’s talk in the living room.” Noah led the way.

  Most senators weren’t given a security detail unless they were in Washington, but Noah didn’t take chances and, always aware of the dirty game of politics, he had hired his own. He’d seen scandals destroy careers. And while SiR ran criminal background checks, that wasn’t enough reassurance for Noah. Jared, a retired Navy Seal, had worked for Noah during the year he campaigned and stayed on these last four years since he’d been elected as one of New York’s senators. Jared knew about SiR and Noah’s interests, so Jared’s protection wasn’t to keep Noah physically safe, it was to keep Noah’s sexual relationships off CNN’s radar.

  “Want a beer?” Noah asked, entering the chef’s kitchen decorated with white lacquer cabinets and bluestone counters.

  “Would love one,” Jared replied.

  Noah grabbed two crisp beers from the stainless-steel fridge. When he returned to the living room, he saw that Jared had taken a seat in his usual spot on the leather chair set next to the couch and was stretching out his long legs. Noah offered him the beer. “I take it you got what you needed on Olivia.”

  Jared nodded and raised the folder. “All things Olivia Watts.”

  Noah shook his head, dropping onto the couch. He tried not to invade someone’s personal history more than he needed to protect himself. Discovering the intricacies about his submissives was all part of the game. “Is there anything about her that should worry me?”

  “I’m not sure about this one.” Jared took a long swig of his beer then explained further. “Either this girl is a saint, or her records have been scrubbed.”

  “Scrubbed, really?” This concern was a first.

  Jared cocked his head and gave him a measured look. “No matter how good a person is, they’re going to have a past. Ms. Watts hasn’t even had a parking ticket.”

  Noah didn’t like the sound of that either. “She’s too clean?”

  “Squeaky clean.” Jared nodded. “Who in their life hasn’t had at least a parking ticket?”

  “People who play by the rules,” Noah offered.

  “Which is totally plausible,” Jared agreed. “And yet, her lack of a past is concerning and something I would take a hard look at. She doesn’t seem like a risk taker who would be involved in this type of arrangement.”

  When Jared gave advice, Noah listened. In two years he’d run for reelection, and in the game of politics, Noah knew his competition would already be looking at him now, trying to find holes in his character to sink him. “How about her connections to anyone in politics? Any links there?”

  Jared shook his head. “None that I could see. I dug pretty deep into her family history—everyone there looks fine. I couldn’t see any links from her Facebook to any politicians. On the outside, it very much looks like she’s fine. But…”

  There was always a but.

  Jared leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, and leveled Noah with a hard look. “What better scandal is there than a senator who sleeps with an all-too-sweet girl and roughs her up without her consent?”

  Noah’s jaw tightened. He could see that headline shooting across his television screen. He’d never recover from such a scandal. “What better scandal indeed.”

  Jared nodded, his beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “I can’t shake my concern here. Stay cautious with this one until you trust her.”

  Noah wouldn’t put it past his competition to not only discover his lifestyle but find some way to destroy him with it. “And her friend?”

  “She’s much more of what I’d expected to find. She’s got a past. Had some adventures. But she’s nothing to worry about.”

  “All right,” Noah said, tipping his chin at the folder in Jared’s hands. “Thank you for this.”

  Jared polished off his beer then rose, lifting the bottle. “Thank you for this.” He entered the kitchen and left the bottle on the counter before he strode by Noah again.

  Just as he walked by, Noah asked, “Have you got a picture of Olivia on file?”

  Jared reached into the folder then offered Noah a five-by-seven photograph. It was a different photo of Olivia; Noah assumed it was from Facebook. When Jared tucked the file back under his arm, he asked, “Is the plan to meet her tomorrow?”

  Noah seemed already decided, though he also remained curious but cautious. He nodded. “I want another look at her myself. See if she’s as innocent as your file says she is or if something else is going on here.”

  “You’ll shoot me the time later?”

  “I will.”

  While Jared let himself out, Noah stared down at Olivia’s picture. Heat immediately filled his groin as the minutes dragged on. With his quiet penthouse all around him, he studied Olivia’s face. Pretty, without being overdone. Her brown hair spilled over her tanned shoulders, chocolate brown eyes gleamed. His cock swelled while he looked at her, telling him he’d made the right decision to reach out. Something about her drew him, fascinated him. He wanted to learn more about her, and that instinct had never failed him.

  Though this was far more primal. Erotic thoughts flickered through his mind. He imagined her on her knees, glancing up at him with those big sweet eyes. His dick throbbed, reminding him how hard she had made him earlier. The tease was enough, and he used one hand to pull down his workout pants, exposing his thick erection.

  He stared down at her red painted lips in the pho
tograph, suddenly craving to gaze upon that lipstick smearing across her face and on his shaft while she took him deep into her mouth. He leaned forward to drip some saliva on the tip of his cock before running his hand down his shaft, groaning against the pleasure. Veins protruded along the sides of his hardened length, straining against the arousal she’d created.

  His gaze fell to her cleavage and then over to the smooth line of her shoulder. His lips tingled to explore all those areas and more. He stroked himself faster now and none too gently, determined to bring himself to orgasm and free himself of the tension.

  When his eyes lifted to hers again, his breath hitched, and something in her gaze drew out his orgasm, extending his release.

  Thinking only of her, and all that he planned on doing to her next week, he grunted and spilled his semen over his hand and onto her photograph, right onto her lips.

  Chapter 3

  Some men excelled at making women feel invisible.

  Isaac Bridge, a.k.a. the General, a.k.a. the head honcho at Bridge Web Solutions, was one of those men.

  In the third chair at the glass meeting room table, Olivia sat in a dark gray swivel chair a week after meeting with Noah. She had spent the day consumed with telephone meetings and designing a few logos, mere blocks away from Rockefeller Center. At the head of table, looking as imposing as ever in his designer slacks and navy-blue button-down, the Harvard-educated Isaac kept his back to his employees. Olivia had seen a hundred men who looked just like him in Manhattan. Same trimmed beard. Same brown eyes. Same focused stare. Same arrogant entitlement. She was sure Isaac thought he was a gift to the world and to women.

  He wasn’t. He sucked.

  Like a king standing at his throne, he tapped the end of the black marker against his lips. On the whiteboard attached to the wall were his ideas for their latest project for a high-powered tech company looking to redesign their website.

  Around her were five other Bridge Web Solutions employees. Or rather, “Isaac’s servants” as they preferred to call themselves. Every new project went the same way. Step one of their process was to throw around ideas. Only Isaac never let anyone get a word in edgewise. Every single person sitting at this table was there to hear the great and powerful Isaac share his wise ideas and then implement them.

  “Yeah. Yeah. We’ve got something great here,” Isaac finally reported. He replaced the cap on the marker then stepped back to admire his work.

  Over the course of the twenty-minute meeting, a few employees sitting around the table tossed out some ideas. Isaac overlooked every single one of them. Olivia imagined all her coworkers suffered this hell for one reason, just like she did: to get the great Isaac Bridge’s name on their resume. Then they’d hightail it to a job where their opinions actually mattered. Not that Isaac didn’t deserve the praise. He was brilliant, but he seemed to want everyone to acknowledge that. All the time.

  Olivia had only one chance to get an idea out there; for her own sanity and for her own self-esteem, she refused to miss her chance. “What if we added the New York City skyline behind their logo?” she offered. “The top of the site is looking a little bare to me.”

  Murmurs of agreement by her coworkers fluttered around, making her smile, while Isaac paused, staring at the board.

  Olivia held her breath. Had he actually heard her suggestion?

  Not a chance in hell.

  He faced the group. “I like this direction,” he told them, not even acknowledging that she’d spoken and barely even giving anyone a look. “Good work, team. Let’s make this happen.”

  Olivia bit back the string of curses resting on her tongue. She had worked for arrogant men like Isaac before when she interned at another web design company in lower Manhattan during college at NYU. Usually she could stomach these chest-beating pricks. But lately, she found it harder to swallow her thoughts.

  Her coworkers began to rise, and as Mateo—the cute thirty-something guy—stood, he rolled his eyes and mouthed, “I liked your idea.”

  She smiled her thanks then scraped her dignity off her chair and followed Mateo out of the meeting room.

  Bridge Web Solutions mixed the old with the new. The building was old New York City, but the inside space had been renovated when Isaac moved his multimillion-dollar company there. From the hexagon-shaped cubicles with glass dividers, and the triple monitors at every station, to the white leather chairs, Olivia adored this space even if she abhorred Isaac.

  Like cattle being herded back to the pasture, Olivia followed behind Mateo. When he went toward his cubicle, she continued to hers, which sadly faced the hallway. Her daily view was of Isaac sitting behind his glass desk in the corner office, a brutal punishment she didn’t know what she had done to deserve.

  She sighed and dropped down into the swivel chair. Next to her monitors, she had photos of the city. These pictures were her lifeline. One look at them and she was reminded of all the good in the world, even if sometimes she had to swim in the bad.

  As she moved her mouse to begin the logo design for the new project, the phone on her desk began to ring. “Olivia Watts,” she said into the receiver.

  “Hi, babe, it’s me,” Paige said. “How’s the General today?”

  “As douchebaggery as ever,” Olivia grumbled, as Isaac returned to his big fancy desk and stared out the wall of windows to the city streets below.

  “God, I hate him,” Paige muttered. “Can you talk?”

  “Yup,” Olivia said. “What’s up?”

  Paige’s voice lifted, all irritation gone. “Excited about going to Noah’s tonight?”

  “Very.” The past seven days, while Olivia waited for her test results to come in and for Friday to finally get here, had been hell. Making the decision to join SiR had been easy in comparison. Because when the time seemed to drag, Olivia couldn’t help but question her sanity. “The waiting has been the hardest part.”

  “I doubt that will be the hardest thing tonight.” Paige giggled. “But seriously, call me right away if you want out of there or if something feels wrong. Okay?”

  Movement caught her eye. Isaac left his office and moved toward her cube. “Yikes. Gotta run. The General is approaching. I’ll call if I need you. Promise.” She hung up the phone right as Isaac settled in front of her desk, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

  “I decided on another change.” He handed her the paper. “I think this will be a stronger direction.”

  Olivia accepted the paper and glanced down at the logo with a sketch of the New York City skyline in behind it. Un-fucking-believable. She looked up at him again, waiting for him to acknowledge her idea.

  It never came.

  “All clear?” Isaac asked, hands shoved in his pockets.

  You’re a total prick…“Yes, sir, we’re all clear.”

  “Excellent.” And just to prove his authority once more, he added, “Don’t take long on that, Olivia. I want it on my desk ASAP.”

  “Got it.” She nodded.

  With his chin high and chest out, he spun on his heels and returned to his office.

  Olivia inhaled and exhaled deeply so she wouldn’t lose her shit. Isaac was a stepping-stone. She needed experience as a graphic designer, and Isaac’s company was the best web design company in the city.

  She simply needed to hold her tongue a little longer.

  * * *

  —

  A good hour after returning home from a day filled with meetings both in the office and out, Noah strode through his penthouse. Not used to being home this early during the day since he tended to work long hours, he took the moment to stare out the large floor-to-ceiling glass walls that offered him a three-hundred-sixty-degree, bird’s-eye view of New York City. That view and the wraparound terrace, which gave him a stunning view of the Hudson River and Empire State Building, were sometimes his escape after a hard day.
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  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and stared out at the sun setting over the Freedom Tower. Over the years, he had tasted impatience many times but none quite like what he endured waiting for the days to pass by so that he could see Olivia again. Every day had gone by brutally slowly. Without any doubt in his mind, his reaction to her caused slight concern for more reasons than one. He’d become a little too interested in her for his liking. At the same time, he’d never stop this week from happening.

  Which awakened Jared’s warning with vengeance. Olivia seemed handpicked for him; she sparked a connection that left him hopelessly captivated. Was this woman real or someone not to be trusted?

  The question was valid, and in politics among the competition, one that Noah wouldn’t overlook.

  And when the knock came at his door fifteen minutes later, he was more than determined to discover the answer to that lingering question. He took his time to answer, allowing Olivia’s anticipation to build. But when he opened the door, he noted her nervousness.

  She looked gorgeous wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her body in all the right places, showing him exactly where her beautiful curves were. Her hair was down but pinned away from her face, revealing darker makeup than what she’d worn to the restaurant. “Olivia,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on her cheek.

  Her shiver was evidence that she was aroused but nervous. More good signs that this wasn’t a setup and that her being here was real and her decision. Anyone hired to frame a political scandal would stay focused and comfortable in the hoax. They wouldn’t falter in their seduction.

  “Please come in,” he said, stepping out of the way for her to enter. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.” And she did. His hard cock was proof of that. “How did you know I have a special appreciation for black dresses?”

  She gave a shy smile. “I didn’t, sir, but I’m glad you like it.”

  Ah, she remembered the sir. He winked. “And I like a quick learner even more.”