Dirty Professor (19 page)

I picked up the paper and let my eyes scan the words. The flirting of moments ago had certainly evaporated. Legal documents will do that to a girl.

“You want me to sign this?” I asked.

“I know,” he said. “It’s strange. But my lawyer insists and well, like I said, I live in a world where people want to take advantage of me at every turn, sell whatever piece of me they can to the tabloids, so this just helps protect me and, frankly, also shows me upfront who is really interested in me,” he said, touching his chest, “and who is interested in all the rest.” He lifted his hand to indicate the grandness of his home, and all his wealth and the power that came with it.

As I held the document before me, I tried to gather the racing thoughts in my head. My eyes scanned across the document, flipping through the pages. I couldn’t take photos of him. I couldn’t disclose any information, at all, zero. I basically couldn’t talk about him to anyone, because if I did that person who didn’t sign the agreement could sell the stories. The financial penalties were upwards of five million dollars for speaking or writing about him in any form whatsoever--or I would be sued. I wanted to ask if I’d be sued for even thinking about him, but decided that regardless, I was in way over my head, and I needed help.

“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” I asked, setting the documents back down on the table.

“Yeah, sure,” Leo said. “On the other side of the staircase.”

I took my purse and headed into the bathroom, which was just as sleek and beautiful as everything else I’d seen (including Leo). It was white with mirrored vanities and in the corner was a plush white chaise lounge chair, perfect for faintly ladies.

I took a seat on the chair and fired off a text to Kait.
Job impossible
, I wrote.
Wants me to sign NDA. Means I can’t say anything to anyone about him or us. If I don’t sign, he shows me the door.

I took a deep breath after I sent it off. I walked to the sink and looked at my reflection. I dropped the shoulder of my dress to see what Leo had seen before he pulled the strap back up for me.

I thought for a moment, wondering if I was perhaps relieved that this wasn’t going to work out after all. And then I realized that no—I wasn’t relieved. I was disappointed.

My phone pinged
. You’re with him? Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing him again? Great job!

I rolled my eyes, frustrated.
What about the NDA? See above.

No worries
, she wrote, and I waited for more guidance. When nothing came back, I texted,
But I can’t sign it, right? What should I do?

An excruciating moment later she wrote,
Sophie Adams doesn’t exist. Doc won’t be valid anyway so u might as well sign. Sophie Scott is in the clear. Go get him.

She was so sure, so quickly that it still made me pause. All kinds of thoughts and emotions flashed through my mind.

Before, this entire plan had been theoretical. I’d never truly believed that I could snag the interest of a man like Leo Armstrong, and I’d never thought through what it would truly mean to give a fake name and deceive another human being this way. But now that the decision was in front of me, I felt hesitant and deeply unsure. Afraid.

This is wrong. You can’t sign a fake name, you can’t just lie to him, knowing that everything he’s saying and doing is going to be used against him in an article that millions of people might see.

On the other hand, if I backed out now, my journalism career would come to a swift and untimely end. Besides, everyone said that Leo Armstrong was a womanizing bastard who treated females like disposal products he could toss away whenever he so chose. A man like that didn’t deserve honesty.

He’s the one lying, I reminded myself.

But is this really going to end up okay? Does Kait know what she’s talking about? I wondered. My stomach twisted uncertainly and my mind warned me that I was crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

In the moment, though, I had no alternative but to trust Kait.

Okay
, I wrote back.
Will sign Sophie Adams.

Kait texted back in milliseconds
. Want full details tomorrow at 8:00 a.m.…even if you’re up all night.

Chapter Six

“Good,” Leo said when I handed over the signed document. “I’ll put this away and we won’t have to think about it again.”

What’s this
we
, I thought. I was nervous about putting a fake signature on a legal document, but I was also bothered by the fact that he had all the power. He could throw my name around all he wanted, but if I even breathed his name, I’d be sued, wiped out clean.

Maybe Kait was right about him. What kind of man started a relationship with a legal document? It was creepy.

“I bet you like having women sign those contracts,” I said, feeling bold thinking about Kait and her words of justice for women. “Makes you feel powerful.”

He set down his glass of prosecco and fixed his eyes on me. He moved closer to me, flicking his eyes down on my lips for a moment. “Sophie, I’m the head of Epix Studios. The youngest in their history. Last year alone my movies made one-point-seven billions dollars net—and that was on revenues of eight-point-two billion. Look around you. This home might impress you but it isn’t my only one—I have two others. I
am
powerful. I don’t need some document signed by a girl I just met to make me feel that way.”

“Look, I didn’t—”

“If you want to leave, you can. No hard feelings,” he said, spreading his hands. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. There are some things I have to do to protect myself. It’s just the way my life is. But if you think you won’t get anything out of this, that’s where you’re wrong.”

“What will I get—lots of sex?” I said sarcastically, my heart thrumming in my chest.

He moved even closer to me. I could almost feel his breath on my cheek as he looked down at me. “More than you ever dreamed—if you want. I’ll have you begging me for more before the ink dries on that contract.” I swallowed hard, and tried to remember to breathe. Leo still hadn’t moved, his scent wafting over me—the sweetness of the wine, and something spicy.

“I wasn’t being serious about the sex thing,” I mumbled, as my heart raced.

“Do you want to stay?” he said coolly.

I nodded yes. And not just because it was my job. If only it was that simple, but the electric feeling surging up and down my spine wasn’t about a job well done. It was about the way Leo was making me feel.

A smile spread across his chiseled face. “Good,” he said softly. He picked up his drink. “So—do you want the tour? Most people want the tour.”

I gathered myself as best I could from the heat of the moment. “I’m not most people,” I said, which made him chuckle.

“No, Sophie Adams, you most certainly are not.”

The mention of my false name brought me back to job at hand. Find out more about this guy and his ways with women.

“All I want to see is L.A.,” I said.

“Is that all?” he said, amused.

I nodded. “Show me that view.”

He extended his arm. “After you.”

We walked across the glossy floors to the large doors that slid open on the balcony that wrapped around half the floor.

I leaned on the steel railing, looking over the edge. The street was so far below, tiny little dots of life. Ahead was the glittering lights of the city, sparkling like jewelry.

“So this is a million dollar view,” I said, the breeze light on my bare skin.

“It cost a little more than that,” he grinned. Leo leaned on the railing next to me, his forearm brushing mine. “What other auditions have you been on?”

I tucked my chin, embarrassed. “None. That was my first one.”

“You don’t say,” he said, turning to face me. “I never would have guessed.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“But I’m so good at it.”

“And don’t be arrogant, either,” I said, fixing him with my most stern expression.

“You know, if you’d played the part this well at the audition, you might have stood a chance. At least for a callback.”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience,” I said. He raised a brow. “In
acting
,” I clarified. My nipples suddenly felt stiff and I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

“Luckily for you, you’re standing next to someone who knows a thing or two about acting, auditions, casting…a general knowledge of the movie business, some would say.”

“No kidding?” I said. “Hmm, you know it’s so easy to forget what you do for a living.” When I smiled, he smiled back.

“Honestly, though. I could give you some tips. You weren’t as bad as you think.”

“My roommate says I should get over it,” I said. “She’s a dancer and jokes that her full-time job is getting rejections.”

“She’s not altogether wrong,” Leo said. “There’s a lot of rejection in the industry. It’s not for the weak hearted.”

“Good thing I’m strong, then,” I said, and believe me, it was all false confidence.

Leo looked at me carefully, his eyes scanning every inch of my face, and then down to my hips and waist. “I don’t think you’re an actress.”

“Wha—what? Yes I am. I mean, I'm trying to be.”

“You either are or you aren’t, and I don’t think you’re an actress,” he said, inching closer to me. “You hadn’t even heard of The Groundlings, and everybody who’s starting up in acting knows about The Groundlings. So why don’t you tell me what you’re really here to do.”

I couldn’t speak. I don’t think I moved. “Come on, Sophie. Confess,” he said in a teasing whisper, the traffic below us humming.

My heart stopped and I could hardly swallow. “Confess what?” I said through a clenched jaw.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” he said, and I could hear in his voice that he didn’t truly suspect just how close he was to exposing my lies.

I turned to look back at the view. I could better trust myself if I didn’t have to look at him. “You’re right—I’m not an actor. I took the audition because I'm desperate for work. I just moved here and, well, money is tight. I saw an ad for the audition and decided to give it a shot.”

“Did you wake up thinking today was the day you’d be discovered?”

I laughed. “Hardly.”

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “I want to know.” He tilted his head and looked at me, and something about the way his eyes found me made me think that, even if this was all part of his game, his did want to know.

I bit the corner of my lip, thinking if it was a mistake to say what I was about to say. “I want to be a writer,” I said, liking telling the truth to him for once.

“Is that so?” he said, his voice soft. He moved closer to me, closing the small bit of space between us, leaving mere inches.

I was a little stunned that he didn’t sound suspicious or upset at the revelation. After all, Kait and the others had said that Leo would never trust a writer.

Words failed me, so I nodded yes. I ran my hand over my arm, chills from the breeze—or maybe from Leo’s closeness.

“Cold?” he asked. Without waiting for my response, he ran his hands up and down my arms, slowly. His skin on mine was hot, giving me another dose of chills. “Are you sure? Because you’ve got some major goose bumps here.”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Is this helping?” he asked, his hands still moving on me.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to move closer?”

“Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I could feel how strong and defined his chest was, and I lay a hand there, feeling his strength. He put a hand on my lower back and tugged my hips into his. He held me there for a moment as my heart raced. His arms felt so good around me, so secure. The breeze of the warm air fluttered over me. I couldn’t help but press myself into him a little more, and I felt how excited he was—the same as me. Through the thin fabric of my dress, I pushed a little closer as he held me a little tighter.

Leo lifted my chin up, and our eyes met. He held my gaze as he gave the slightest rock against me, showing me again how hard he was, and oh good Lord how big, and it made me lose my breath. My mouth was open, wanting his on mine so desperately, waiting for him to do more.

I wondered if any of this would go in my article, and then told myself to stop thinking about the article and the magazine. If I was going to really do this, really embrace my mission, then I’d have to temporarily forget the truth and believe my own lie.

Another slight pang of guilt hit my stomach and I pushed it away.

Conscience be gone. I have a hot man holding me tight, and I’m not ruining this moment with my neurotic, obsessive overthinking.

Leo slid his hand around the back of my neck, gathered my hair in his hand, and pulled me to his lips. His lips touched mine softly, and it took every inch of my willpower to let him go at his speed, because the slow touch of his lips was beyond hot.

“This body,” he said, his breath on my lips, his hands tracing the curve of my hips and down my back. “In this dress.” He kissed me again, but deeper, his tongue finally stroking mine as he continued to push himself against my crotch. I let out a whimper—I couldn't help myself. I was in pain, on fire, and all from a kiss and a touch. I needed more, so much more, but I willed myself to go slow and let him set the pace.

Leo deepened the kiss, melding our mouths together, tasting each other like it was life we were looking for. My hand traced up the back of his neck, and I dug my fingers into his hair, gripping him and trying to get more of him. My body wanted to melt right into his.

He pulled back, our lips tinged from the pressure. “Do you even realize how sexy you are? What you’re doing to me?”

I leaned up and kissed him again, the only words I could find to tell him that he was the one doing this to me—and I wanted more. More of his tongue on mine, more of his hands on more of my body. The city below had faded away, and all that mattered was Leo’s hands, and Leo’s mouth. Something beyond my control was pulling us together and I didn’t want to stop it.

He moved his hand around my hip and down the side of my thigh, giving me shivers for the place he just passed. He kept his mouth firmly on mine as he bent slightly to gather up the hem of my skirt to touch my bare skin, his warm hand griping and rubbing my thigh. I was thankful I’d decided to wear my silk panties as his hand moved over my ass. He pulled his lips away from mine and I almost whimpered at the loss. He hooked his hand under my knee and lifted my leg, setting my strappy-heeled foot on the railing near my shin. He slid back the fabric of my skirt again, pushing it up to my hip. He moved his hand over my panties, cupping my crotch.