For us.
I seductively licked my lips, practically tasting her against my tongue.
Her skin flushed.
Her legs squirmed.
Her body completely reacted to my greedy perusal.
Autumn might claim she didn’t feel anything for me, but her body and pussy were telling a different story.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“I thought I didn’t affect you?”
“You don’t.”
“So if I slid my fingers into your panties, you wouldn’t be wet for me right now?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not wearing any.”
I laughed, throwing my head back.
The little fucking minx.
“And who’s benefit was that for, Miss Troy?”
She ignored my question. “This isn’t a slumber party, Mr. Locke. We don’t need to share a suite.”
“Well, I have no intention of sleeping.”
“Which is exactly why we’re not sharing a suite.”
I smiled. “Don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?”
“I’m alone with you right now.”
“You had Erin sitting here when I walked in.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You need to trust me when I say my intentions are pure.”
“You literally just said you had no plans of sleeping.”
“When you have hundreds of people relying on you to make a living, you don’t sleep much. You took my words out of context. What I was insinuating was that we could go over our daily game plan for the tour. You know, get me ready for the world to fall in love with me.”
She beamed. “We could absolutely do that.”
“Great.” I grabbed a highlighter to approve the same suite clause, and she yanked the contract from my hands.
“I can easily walk to my own suite from yours, Mr. Locke.”
“I usually rent the penthouse floor when I’m traveling.”
“Why? You’re only one person.”
“I enjoy my privacy, and if people see you leaving my suite at all hours of the late nights, they’re going to assume we’re doing much more than debriefing.”
“Not happening.”
“What about the paparazzi? You see how much they follow me around. You want to deal with the press?”
She thought about it for a minute before she reluctantly resigned. “Fine. But I want my own room and bathroom, and they need to be the furthest away from yours.”
Pretending like I wasn’t pleased I’d persuaded her to change her mind, I grabbed the highlighter out of her hand and added in her terms.
Reading on…
Publicist must be present during travel, car rides, and flights from one press juncture to the next. She also agrees to be present for all the itineraries she has scheduled for the client.
Do you honestly think I trust you to say the right things? I have to be there just to cover your ass and make sure I can do damage control when you fuck it up.
I smiled—she knew me well.
The next clauses weren’t anything of importance, at least not to me. The ones I wanted her to approve, she did.
Closing the contract, I hit the intercom on my phone.
“Yes, Mr. Locke?”
“Erin, come to my office.”
Moments later, she walked in, and I handed her the contract.
“Have HR re-draft this immediately and return it to me once it’s finalized.”
“Yes, Mr. Locke.” She nodded and left.
It didn’t take long for her to reappear with our new contract, and we both signed.
Except Autumn didn’t realize she’d just signed…
Her future with me.
Chapter SEVEN
—Autumn—
We walked into the building where The New York Times interview was being held.
Julian strode in like he owned the damn place, each stride more commanding than the last. With the confidence he exuded from head to toe, no one would assume this was his first official interview.
The man had a way about him. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve, and I wish I could tell you this was something he’d developed after he’d left me, but it wasn’t.
He always had the ability to hold everything in. No one saw what he didn’t want them to see, and the only times I ever did were the moments he’d let me in.
When I was a little girl, I thought I had the power to read him through his bright, blue eyes. But as I got older, he realized what I could see in his gaze, and that was when he stopped showing me his emotions. Somewhere along the way he deemed me unworthy to know what he was feeling, and it not only crushed my heart, but it destroyed my soul.
Keeping up with his stride, I matched his calm demeanor, fully aware of what we were about to encounter. I was beyond thankful I’d once dated the columnist who was conducting Julian’s interview. I met him in graduate school. At the time, he was just starting at a lucrative magazine.
Now, he was what dreams were made of, being able to make or break anyone’s career with the influence he held as the top journalist in the industry.
“You ready?” I questioned, holding onto the door.
“I’m always ready.” He walked inside, and to his back, I rolled my eyes.