Temptation - Leigh Lennon Page 0,6
ruby red lips. “Um, his boss is not a patient man, and since you’re in need of this job, you can’t alienate him.”
Looking at my jeans and loose-fitting T-shirt, she pulls me back to my room. It’s the first time I’ve seen my own space, and it’s true beauty. “And your ensemble won’t quite work.” She turns to hang the dress on the hook behind the door. “Hurry up. He expects us in the next hour, and it’s on the outskirts of town.” I wait for her to leave, but she plants herself in front of me, so I turn around to change, covering up as much of myself as possible.
“Eve, sugar, you and I have the same parts. No reason to be shy. But we’ve got to hurry. I’m not joking. If you want this job, then you gotta get your ass moving.”
Slipping out of my jeans, I’m happy I at least shaved my legs this morning. “Shit, Eve, you’re so pale. Oh, well, this purple dress should help a bit.” Though I can dress myself, she’s pulling the wrap dress over my head. It’s snug, no denying it, but it’ll work. “Fuck, girl, look at those boobs and how they fill out this dress. I’m so jealous.” Tying the knot at my side, she latches a choker around my neck and large loop earrings. These two items aren’t me at all.
“This fucker is choking me.” It’s not tight, not really, but I hate stuff around my neck. I never wear turtlenecks for this reason.
Kira fits two fingers under the choker and laughs. “It’s not, Miss Dramatic. And anyway, believe me, out of anything you have on, this is the one piece you’ll be glad you’re wearing.” And before I know it, she’s put on a similar choker and is yanking me out the door and into a cab headed to a nondisclosed location. What in the world have I gotten myself into?
The cab pulls up to a large house. No, it’s a fucking mansion. When we come up to a gate, Kira slips out quickly to input a code, then her thumbprint. The second our car wraps around the circular drive, the smoking hot man who had interviewed me rushes to the taxi, opening the door for Kira. But there’s more, so much more. The man, Mr. Hotness, pulls her into a long kiss, and she kneels before him.
For the second time in thirty minutes, I ask myself internally, what the fuck have I gotten myself into? She stays in this stance as Mr. Hottie pulls out a wad of cash and pays the cabbie.
“Mine,” he says as though it’s Kira’s name or title. “Stand, sweet girl.”
She rises, her face downturned, not moving. “Kira, honey, relax.” And she goes from her stiff posed posture to a more relaxed look. “I love your collar, honey.” He kisses her neck, but when I clear my throat, he’s aware I’m here to witness all this weirdness.
“Ah, yes, Ms. Lipton. Welcome to my new club. I say my club because I run it and I own a part of it, but the other owner would like to meet you.” My wide eyes have to look as if they can pop from their sockets at any moment. “You’re a little shell-shocked, Ms. Lipton. Go ahead and ask your questions before we enter the club.”
Of course, this conversation has to take place in the scorching hot heat of a Chicago summer. “Um, let me order them in importance because right now, there are a fuck ton,” I begin, and the slight turn of Mr. Hotness’s smile tells me he’s amused.
“Go ahead, but get your foul words out of your system now because the boss doesn’t like being sworn at, but believe me, he will swear at you.”
I ignore this statement. In the order of importance, it’s not one, not yet.
“Okay, for starters, what is this place? It doesn’t look like a club but it does look like a palace.” My eyes take in the white brick with at least twenty windows for both the main level and the second floor. Shit, I think there’s a third story, too. The landscaping is immaculate as trees line the pathway to the house.
“Okay, I can see why this is at the top of the list. This is his fifth club. He has one in Los Angeles, New York, London, and Seattle. It’s a premiere club for the rich who require certain criteria in the bedroom. And it’s