his no-good, lying, asshole father.
His other rule—never more than one night—well, he hadn’t broken that...yet. Although he’d been sorely tempted in his office earlier.
It was sure as shit going to test every single ounce of the rigid control he not only prided himself on but needed like oxygen in order to resist temptation. The minute she’d walked into his office behind Ben he’d wanted her again so badly he’d had to think of his whisker-chinned, sixth-grade music teacher Miss Lemmon to stave off his boner.
When he’d awoken at four that morning to find her gone, part of him had sagged back on the pillows with relief. He’d done his job. Shown her a good time—actually, a fucking fantastic time.
Yes, she’d understood the unspoken rules, sneaking out of his hotel room in the middle of the night. No number on the nightstand. No scribbled note demanding he call her. No hijacking his cell phone. But the sense of relief had done little to comfort him. A part of him, the part left restless by betrayal and humiliation, the part he’d hoped to leave behind in New York, had coiled like colic in his gut until he’d arisen before the dawn, taken a frigid shower and numbed his mind with several hours of legal work.
Despite walking away from Jacob Holdings, he still had unfinished deals for the family business, one in particular that, as shareholder, he had a personal interest in. No matter how much he might want to throw his father under the bus in retribution, he had his sisters’ future inheritance to protect and his mother’s share when her divorce from the old bastard was finalised. At least he could atone for causing the split by recommending a hotshot divorce attorney to get his mother a fair slice of the pie. But even drafting a complex and lengthy contract hadn’t dragged his mind away from the fascinating Essie.
He sighed, succumbing to the inevitable. Every muscle clenched and his cock thickened. He gave it a couple of lazy tugs as the memory of Essie’s whimpers and her cries echoed inside his head...
Ash slammed his eyes open and slapped the tile beside the showerhead. Here he was thinking about the other ways he’d like to fuck her, when there wasn’t going to be a next time. There should never have been a first time.
He’d been done with women even before he’d set foot on English soil. Plus she was Ben’s sister and now his club’s temporary manager. An employee. And, more importantly, someone he couldn’t trust.
Perhaps he could fire her? Employ a replacement manager before Ben returned from his trip and say it hadn’t worked out with Essie. But Ben, quite rightly, wouldn’t tolerate the slight. And if it came out that Ash had fucked his little sister and then fired her for humiliating him, their longstanding friendship wouldn’t survive. And right now, Ash needed his friend—the only friend he could be certain hadn’t known what his fiancée had really been up to all those years ago.
Her dumping him practically at the altar had left him struggling to trust the opposite sex, but his father’s recent revelations and the public backlash had thrown Ash into a tailspin until he no longer knew which way was up and who he could rely upon not to snigger behind his back.
Of course, Ben didn’t know the latest twist, the one that had prompted Ash’s departure from New York. How the third wheel in his past relationship—the work colleague she’d claimed to have cheated with—had been nothing but a ruse. A decoy to stave off the marriage his ex had no longer wanted and conceal what had really been happening. Ash closed his eyes against his own reflection in the glass. Some things were so shameful they couldn’t be shared, no matter how good the friend.
He completed his shower routine with a bitter taste in his mouth. A taste that morphed into the sweetest honey when Essie slipped back into his mind. With her blue eyes blazing and indignation thickening her accent and giving her extra height...he’d wanted to kiss her pinched-with-disapproval mouth and haul her spectacular ass out of his club at the same time.
She’d duped him. And no one duped him any more. He made sure of that in his professional sphere; his uncompromising reputation had become legendary.
And personally...? Fuck, there he was a mess. But he’d get there if it killed him. He’d claw back control, starting with his libido and the temptation threatening to derail him in the shape of Essie Newbold.
Now he had to spend the next two months both avoiding her and checking up on her so she had no opportunity to hoodwink him again. Not to mention hiding the fact he’d fucked her from his best friend, all the while fighting the urge to repeat the mistake.
Hi, Ben, how was New York? You know how I never date? Yeah, you understand why... Well, just FYI, I fucked your shiny new sister and I wouldn’t mind having another crack at it, no strings. Hope you don’t mind...
For a man who loved the law, loved truth and valued honesty and loyalty, he had certainly waded in some pretty murky waters recently. And it messed with his already reeling head.
He’d thought a satisfying night with the bubbly, curvaceous redhead would soothe his battered pride and redress the balance. But all it had done was land him deeper in the shit and reaffirm his stance on trusting no one.
Slamming out of the fogged-up cubicle, Ash threw a towel over his head and scrubbed at his hair. Looping that one around his damp shoulders, he quickly towelled his legs dry and then wrapped the second towel around his waist.
Just as he’d finished cleaning his teeth, he heard the noise and froze, every sense on high alert.
Someone was inside his apartment.
His SW1 penthouse apartment equipped with state-of-the-art security.
‘Um, hello...?’ A female voice.
Tossing the towel from around his neck, he strode from his en-suite bathroom, expecting perhaps to find the building manager or the cleaner he’d hired to ready the place for his arrival.
He came to a halt just inside his bedroom.
Essie stood in the doorway, her cheeks flushed as if she’d been running and her mouth hanging open as her stare took a slow, sensual meander over his naked torso. Her hot eyes settled on his groin.
He’d been hard most of the day, thinking about her and their night together. Hard in the shower, tempted to bang one out just to attain a measure of relief from the memory of her tight warmth gripping him. And now here she was. Wide eyes touching every inch of his bare skin, and the hard again parts of him behind the towel.
Her chest lifted and fell with shallow pants, which pushed her luscious, pert breasts in his direction. Having taken her time leisurely touring his body, she met his stare again.
He lifted one brow, lips twitching, tempted to fling off the towel so she could really go to town.
‘You wanted something?’ Had she come for a do-over? Fuck—that was refreshing.
It wasn’t his usual style, but damn if he wasn’t seriously considering bending the rules and bending her over. Just to clarify that it had been as ball-emptying as he remembered.
No. He didn’t do second times. Clearly his libido was on New York time.
She stuttered back to life. ‘I... I... Ben needs you to sign these forms for the bank. He couldn’t get hold of you.’ A pretty pink flush stained her chest above the neckline of her dress, which still bore this morning’s coffee stain. It did nothing to diminish her allure. If
