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Authors: Laurelin Paige

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BOOK: Fixed on You
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Oh, god, was this the beginning
of an obsessive episode?   

No, I’d be fine. I had to focus
on my promotion. I was stronger than this.

“Yeah. I’m fine. If you’re almost
done, I’m going to get changed.”

David nodded. I hurried to the
staff break room across the hall. Stripping out of my corset and tight pants, I
changed into sweat shorts and a sports bra, stuffing the troublesome outfit
into my duffel bag. Since there wasn’t a straight subway line from Columbus
Circle to my apartment at Lexington and Fiftieth, I usually ran it. Sometimes
after a long shift I’d take the bus or cab, but with all the stressors of the
night, I needed the cardio to direct my focus.

Fifteen minutes later, I hit the
pavement, taking in the fresh morning air with the rest of NYC’s early morning
joggers. I loved the feeling of unity it gave me, even though most of the other
runners were starting their day, not ending it as I was.  

Quickly, I got into my groove,
running along the south border of Central Park, but the steady rhythm of my
body wasn’t enough to drown the thoughts of David and my future at The Sky
Launch. Wasn’t enough to drown my thoughts of the gorgeous new owner who had
demanded I meet with him later that night. Worry set in again. Was Hudson
planning to fire me? Or did I still have a shot at promotion?

One thing was certain—I’d be a
lot more thoughtful about my choice of wardrobe in the future.

Chapter Three

 

 

I took a cab to the club that evening,
which had been a mistake. Unusual traffic had me arriving at three after nine.
I hurried toward the office but was stopped at the upstairs bar by Liesl.

“David and hot owner boy are
already in there,” she said over the club music, playing with a strand of
purple hair. “Hudson told me to have you wait here. He’ll let you know when he
wants you.”

“Dammit! I’m not that late, am
I?”

“No, they went in there about ten
minutes ago. They have no idea what time you got here.”

I relaxed, thankful that my exclusion
from the meeting wasn’t because I’d been tardy. I hopped onto a bar stool
nearest the office and set my computer bag on the floor at my feet.

“Hold on, Laynie,” Liesl said
coming around the bar. “Let me see you.”

I stood up again and turned
around, displaying my bodycon dress. I’d picked it because the white tie color
had a business style to it, but the tight black skirt said nightclub instead of
office secretary.

“Fuck, girl, you look good!”
Liesl’s validation calmed me more than she could ever know. Or maybe she did
know. She was a good friend.

“Thanks. I needed that.
Especially after Mr. Disapproval last night.”

“He is now known as the Bar and
Wardrobe Nazi.”

I laughed and hopped back onto my
stool. The same stool Hudson had sat on the first time I saw him. “Hey, you
know he’s the suit I was telling you about, the one who gave me the hundred.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“I’m not. Do you think he wants
me to blow him to get the promotion?”

“Would it be that bad if he did?”

“Yes. It would be utterly, wonderfully,
horrible.” But mostly it was horrible how not bad that idea sounded.

While trying to empty my mind of
Hudson blowjob images,
I surveyed the club. The place was slow, even for
a Wednesday night. From the bar, I had full view of the ten bubble rooms that
circled the perimeter of the upper level. The bubble rooms were The Sky
Launch’s highlight. Each room, round in shape, featured a glass wall
overlooking the dance floor on the lower level, and had private access much
like box seats at a stadium. They all had a curved seating area around a table,
and fit eight people comfortably. The bubbles provided a relatively quiet and discreet
area while still being very much part of the club. When the occupied lights
were on, the outer walls of the bubble rooms glowed red. Only two were lit up.
A shame. If the club had the kind of notoriety it could have, those rooms would
fill within the first ten minutes of being open.

“God, I hope it picks up,” Liesl
said, draping her torso across the counter next to me. “I can’t make it through
a full shift at this pace. It’s so boring!”

“I hope so, too.” We should have
been busting with the summer crowd by now. The lack of business made me feel
more confident about my ideas for the club. I fidgeted, anxious to get in the
office and share them with my bosses.

“What did you do today?” Liesl
asked.

“I worked on a PowerPoint
presentation all morning. I crashed about two.”

Liesl narrowed her eyes. “You
need more sleep than that, Laynie.”

“Nah. Five hours is plenty.” I
actually felt pretty good. Gathering the best of my thoughts for The Sky Launch
into a presentation had been very therapeutic, easing my concerns about my
future at the club. Hudson couldn’t fire me after he saw how much time and
effort I’d put into the business, could he? Not if my ideas were good, and I
knew they were.

I pulled my phone out of my bra
cup where I kept it—no pockets in my skin-tight dress—and checked the time. It
was almost nine-thirty. How long would they keep me waiting?

They walked out minutes later. I
stood the moment I saw them, smoothing my dress down and looked to Hudson,
eager for a sign of approval.

But the expression that met me
took my breath away—an expression of total male power and dominance. Even in
the dark of the club, I could make out his eyes as they perused me—the way he
did every time we saw each other. Again I felt claimed by his overwhelming
magnetism, my heart racing just at the sight of him. My legs turned to jelly
and my knees buckled, tipping me forward.

Into his arms.

He caught me with a graceful ease
that contradicted the solid body that held me steady. My hands clenched his
dress shirt—how did my hands get under his jacket?—and I resisted the urge to
run them across the firm pecs I felt under my grasp.

He mistook my motion, seeming to
think I was searching for further stability. “Alayna,” his voice flowed over me
like liquid sex. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.
Boy, did he.

“Laynie, are you okay?” David
peered at me over Hudson’s shoulder. Did he have to ask? Couldn’t he see that I
was drowning in lust?

“Yeah,” I managed. “I’m, um, new
shoes.”

Hudson glanced down at my strappy
rhinestone embellished sandals. “They’re lovely.” His voice came out so deep it
rumbled and my belly knotted with the sound.

“Uh, thanks.” I was breathless.
And embarrassed when I realized I was still in Hudson’s arms. I eased my grip
and pushed myself into a standing position.

“Sorry we kept you waiting.” Hudson’s
hands lingered on me until I was steady. “I had a few things to discuss with
David privately.”

“No problem.” I still felt the
burn of Hudson’s hands on my bare skin. For distraction, I dove into business
discussions. “I have so many ideas I’d like to share about the club. I put them
into a presentation. I brought my laptop.”

Hudson’s lips curled with a hint
of amusement. “How thoughtful. Set up a time with David. I’m sure he’s very
interested.”

How thoughtful
. As if I’d
done something cute. Something only big boys did. How fucking patronizing.

My heart plummeted. I really shouldn’t
have been so disappointed. It wasn’t as if I’d been asked to prepare anything.
That had been my own hyper-focusing. In fact, I hadn’t even known why I’d been
invited to the meeting. Especially now that it was apparently over and I hadn’t
even been in on it.

“How about tomorrow, Laynie?”
David suggested. “You’re opening anyway. Why not come early? Does six-thirty
give you enough time to present?”

“Yeah. I’ll leave my laptop here
if you don’t mind.” I bent to pick up my bag, but Hudson reached it before I
did.

He handed it to David. “David,
could you lock this in the office? I need to eat something. Alayna will join
me. I’ve reserved one of the bubbles.” His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the
empty rooms. “Though it doesn’t seem a reservation was required.”

I tensed at Hudson’s latest
demand. Why wasn’t David joining us? Did Hudson plan on firing me over
pecan-crusted salmon? Was that what they had discussed privately?

Or maybe Hudson’s interest in me
was less business and more pleasure. The looks he’d given me had suggested it was,
and after receiving the same expression on several occasions, I realized I may
not have imagined it like I kept trying to convince myself I had.

And that was a scarier thought
than being fired. Especially when I’d already felt a tug of fixation. I’d been
so stable for the past three years—I couldn’t open myself to get all obsessive
over my hot boss. That was a disaster waiting to happen. I definitely should
say no to the bubble room.

Except I hadn’t given up on my
promotion. And because there was a slight possibility that Hudson wanted to
talk to me about that, I had to say yes to dinner, though my acquiescence
hardly seemed necessary since he’d had his hand pressed against the small of my
back directing me to one of the more private bubbles before I’d even agreed to
join him. My body tensed under his touch, and my stomach twisted in a nervous
knot that wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

And I was very aware of the eyes
that followed us, few as there were in the club, sure that many of them flashed
with envy. Alone in a bubble room with Hudson Pierce? All the women in
Manhattan should be jealous. Kinky things had been known to happen in those
bubbles. I smiled at the possibilities.

Goddammit. What the hell was I
thinking? The guy had invited me to dinner, not to his bed. Just because I was
all gaga over him, reading sex into his every move, didn’t mean he reciprocated.
And the gaga needed to stop once and for all, even if he did reciprocate.

 Inside the room, I turned on the
occupied light out of habit. Usually a hostess would have done that when they
seated the customer, but since we’d sort of skipped the whole hostess
formality, I took it upon myself. And I had to do something with my nervous
energy. Continuing the job, I grabbed a menu from the wall and handed it to
Hudson who stood waiting at the edge of the seating.

He took the menu from me and
gestured for me to sit. “After you.”

It had been quite some time since
I’d been in a bubble room off-duty and the reversal in my role combined with
the “Fuck Me” aura that surrounded Hudson unbalanced me. I slid onto the plush
cushion, gripping the table for support.

Hudson stayed standing, watching
me intently for several seconds before he removed his gray suit jacket and hung
it on the hook behind him. Damn. He was even hotter in only his fitted gray
dress shirt. I bit the inside of my cheek, admiring his hard thighs straining
against his pants’ fabric as he sat down. God, he was so yummy. 

God, I was in trouble.

He tossed the laminated menu on
the table without looking at it. “I don’t need this. Do you?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Pierce.” I
had the menu memorized. Besides, there was no way I could eat in his presence.

“Hudson,” he corrected.

“No, thank you,
Hudson
.”
His eyes widened slightly when I said his name. “I’ve already eaten.” 

“A drink then? Though, I know you
work at eleven.”

I licked my lips, thinking more
about the man sitting across from me than of thirst, wondering what he had in
store for me. “Maybe an iced tea.”

“Good.”

Out of habit, I reached to press
the button in the middle of the table to summon the waitress, but he beat me to
it, our fingers colliding. I moved to pull my hand away, but he was quicker again,
taking my hand into his. I inhaled sharply at the sensation of his skin against
mine.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I
was admiring your soft skin.” But his eyes never left mine.

“Oh.” I thought about saying I’d been
to an amazing spa, but really, did he care? And besides, talking was difficult
with that thing he was doing to my skin, burning it so thoroughly with his
caress. 

His phone rang and he let go of
my hand. I pulled it to my lap, needing the warmth of my body once it’d lost
the warmth of his.

“Excuse me,” he said, taking his
phone out of his pants pocket and silencing it without looking at the screen. 

“You can take it if you need to.”
I could use a few minutes to gather my thoughts. Because, what the hell did he
want with me? Not only was not knowing killing me, but the more time I spent
with Hudson, the easier it was for me to think about him and his amazing gray
eyes. And his hard body. And his smooth voice.

“There can’t be anything
important enough to interrupt this conversation.”

And even smoother lines.

I opened my mouth to say
something, but was interrupted by the door opening. Sasha entered with a tray
of food and drinks. I watched as she set down a plate of sea bass and a glass
of Sancerre in front of Hudson and a glass of iced tea in front of me. Hudson
must have preordered, but how did he know I’d get iced tea?

He must have sensed my question.
“I asked Liesl what you usually drank. If you had said you wanted something
different, I wouldn’t look quite so cool at this moment.”

That earned him a smile. Whatever
his game was, he was working for it. “Hmm, cool is not quite the word I’d use
for you.” Hot, blazing, volcanic. All of those words were much more
appropriate.

“What word would you use for me
then?”

I blushed and delayed answering
by taking a swallow of my tea.

Thankfully, Sasha spoke at that
moment. “Anything else, Mr. Pierce?” I raised my brow. Would he invite her to
call him Hudson as well?

“We’re good.”

Nope. No first name basis for
Sasha. Only me. Well, didn’t that have liquid pooling between my thighs?

BOOK: Fixed on You
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ads

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