Chapter 4

Four

Grayson

I stabbed my intercom button.

"Trish, my office is going to swallow me whole. Can I get some help back here? You can tell Morre I'll pay your overtime for a month if she'll let you come in here and fix this mess. I can't even find the file for the Robin and Matthews case and I'm due in court in an hour."

My fingers dug into the wood of my desk and I slammed my fist down so hard the framed law degrees on my wall behind me trembled.

I needed to cool it. Especially before walking into court. Contracts were my specialty and when they involved multimillion-dollar deals I loved them even more. Hashing out a breach of contract and getting into the trenches with fellow colleagues and smashing wit against wit was where the excitement lay for me. I didn't have time to train a new girl on how I liked my coffee, how to organize my files or learn my clients' cases right alongside me.

I needed someone who could jump in the deep end and swim on their own.

"Sorry, I'm about to lose my mind here. Don't mean to sound like an ass."

I knew I must sound ridiculously frustrated by something so simple as a lost file, but to be honest ever since my night with her, I can't seem to keep my shit together. The cause of my misery sent me packing after what I thought was the best night of my life. I thought I'd picked up the same vibes from her. Maybe I was wrong. Fuck, she had me craving a real date, candles, champagne—the whole nine yards—as soon as I learned her name, of course.

God, she must consider me a monster. Who else would take a stranger's virginity? Inside the courtroom I was considered ruthless, but me as a man? I mean when I saw something I wanted I didn't stop until it was in my hands, but with her? She had control from start to finish.

It was an offshoot I was even at that nightclub but I met the clients where they dictated, especially when they are footing the bill to the tune of three million dollars, provided I win the case. There was no doubt I'd win, and I said as much to my clients' face. Thinking our meeting was over, I stood to leave, but then I saw her. Sitting all alone and never one to pass up an opportunity, I approached her. At first her cheeks blushed red by the minute but by the time I asked her to dance with me, everything about her turned hot to the touch.

I was determined to have at least one dance, maybe a sweet kiss before heading home. A prize for all the hours I'd clocked in. Never did I think it would end with a girl like her wrapped around my body, giving me her virginity.

I let the com button go and rocked back in my chair, hands scrubbing over my face.

For two weeks now I've been a walking bomb going off at the slightest thing. Scaring away three assistants and making another cry made me feel like a real asshole. Much more of my own crankiness and I'd have to kick my own ass.

"Mr. Sloan, I'm busy with Mrs. Morre through the next five hours of client meetings. But I did field a few calls for you. Three of which are from Mrs. Robin wanting to know if you would like to meet for coffee before trial begins, if you know what I mean, and the other two were potential assistants."

My thoughts were cut into by my partner's assistant, Trish when her strained voice sounded over the intercom.

"You can thank me with an iced latte for lunch."

Trish. She didn't beat around bushes and that was what I like about her most.

"How would you like me to respond to Mrs. Robin?"

I rolled my eyes. Sleeping with a client was never a good idea in my line of work. Not unless you were actually looking to ruin your law firm's reputation. I wasn't. No matter the cup size or dollar amount backing up their checkbooks. It took ten long grueling years to build this place up from the ground. Not the high-rise we currently rent, but Morre and Sloan. We handled most of the high-end corporate contracts for billion-dollar companies and Hollywood studios. Our name was among giants and there was not a damn thing I'll do to tarnish what we've built.

I swung my door open and walked across the foyer and approached Trish's desk. She was parked outside her employer's office door like a gatekeeper and believe me, she played an excellent linebacker when needed.

Trish had three slips of paper in hand waiting and ready when I came to a stop beside her desk. "You have a couple interviews for this afternoon."

"You're a goddess among mortals, Trish. Are you sure you don't want to come over to my side? I pay better."

Something about my expression must have screamed desperate because Trish chuckled and added, "I took the liberty of putting out a few silent feelers with some friends since you go through assistants like starlets do boy toys in this town?—"

I cut her off. "Trish, you're a sweetheart to think of me, but I don't have time to interview people." I braced my hands on the ends of her desk and turned up the thousand-watt smile that normally had ladies of all ages swooning. "What will it take to pull you away from Morre? C'mon, I'll double your salary. Put your grandkids through college. Give you a fully paid trip to Vegas. You name it! What do you say?"

Trish, a woman who had gracefully aged in ways most women hoped for when they met their mid-sixties, pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose and shot me a smile that said not a chance but with a cherry on top.

"Please," I begged just as my partner stepped out of her office.

"At it again. Figures. Step back from Trish—she's mine, Sloan."

Morre, a woman my age with a bigger no-nonsense attitude about her than even me, pursed her lips in my direction and swooshed a stack of files in the air. "Back, beast. How many times are you going to fire your hired help anyway?"

"I didn't fire, they left."

"And that's any better?"

"Not really, just stating facts."

I frowned and sighed heavily. "Until I can find someone who can do their job without all the hand holding."

Morre's eyes lit up. "Problem is you. You've been a bear lately. All work and no play… you know what they say."

For what felt like from the moment the ink dried on my diploma, work was the only thing that sat at the top of my priority list. A short list at that with only one item that made the cut.

Casual flings happened when I got the urge to have a woman's soft, warm body wrapped around me, but the last time that happened was nothing more than a foggy memory.

The woman I couldn't get out of my mind made me want to change that. The more I thought about it, my whole life seemed meaningless.

How the fuck was that possible?

"Yeah, yeah." I was not going to pick that topic up and then sit here for the next three hours with them grilling me for details. I might be a wolf in the courtroom but these two were barracudas twenty-four seven. I was notoriously known for my bachelorhood. One sniff of the possibility the great Sloan had met his match and they would sink their teeth into me.

"It's true," Trish added, naturally agreeing with her boss.

Change of topic needed. I turned back to Trish, "I have an idea. Think you can find me a nice, reliable girl I already know? A judge's daughter who needs summer work or something? Given the boss agrees with your use of time." I turned my smile on Morre.

Morre style, she did nothing more than smirk and before turning back to her office added, "Help him so he'll stop begging, Trish, or you might never get rid of him."

"Way ahead of you both. I landed someone you all might know and like. And if that is the case, you can discard the others on those notes I just handed you."

"Bless you!" The wicked glint in Trish's eyes told me I might be prematurely thanking her.

"Who are we looking at?"

"Nah. This will be too good. You'll just have to wait and see. That's my fee for lining this up for you."

"Evil. Pure evil." I groaned, making my way back to my office.

Back behind my desk files threatened to murder me if I so much as bumped the edge of my desk.

Three assistants in fifteen days. My phone calls were piling up and I couldn't find a fucking file to save my life. I dared flip through a few files, causing others to scatter to the floor. Screw it. Glancing at the clock, I smeared them around like a pile of dominoes, desperate to find the Robin and Matthews case file I swore I left on the top of the pile.

I sank to my desk chair and pushed a slanted pile of files to the side. My last secretary had just been getting the hang of things around here. She'd learned how I liked my coffee and how I left early on Friday afternoons. While she hadn't completely gotten the hang of my unique filing system yet, she had great potential.

"Son-of-a-bitch. Where the hell did I put you!"

Pushing an annoyed sigh through my nose, I opened a random file and skimmed the contents. Like every other day, as soon as I was left alone, my mind trailed back to her. Our night. Her sweet nectar on my lips and the feel of her untouched pussy stretching over my cock. My mind is flooded with an overload of memories.

"Fuck!"

I whirled around to the sound of a soft metallic clink followed by the sweetest voice. "Maybe I can help, Mr. Sloan?"

My heart hit the floor.

Beautiful blue eyes met mine, and I was suddenly tongue tied for the first time in well, my whole goddamn life. Wavy brown hair hung loosely around a heart-shaped face. Among the mass of hair were the prettiest cheeks currently flustered like they were that first night I approached her in the nightclub.

My door opened wider and Trish stepped in. "Mr. Sloan, your nine o'clock appointment is here for the assistant position."

No shit.

My gaze skated down over delicious curves, a rounded middle and hips any man would love to have wrapped around him. I would know. My balls tightened, and I drank in the young woman's face. A petite nose, glowing California sun-kissed skin, warm blue eyes alight with knowledge and eagerness.

And surprise.

"Hello."

"This must be a mistake."

"No!" I nearly shouted. Fuck, I was screwing this up. "No, please come in," I added quickly, trying to cover my shock and surprise.

I pushed away from my desk and slowly extended my hand. "It's nice to meet you." I kept it cool, not wanting Trish to pick up on anything. I held my tone even, matching her polite smile. Better than rushing her, throwing her against the nearest wall and ravishing her with kisses before I fucked her on every surface.

"Your name?"

Finally. I might have held my breath over the next three seconds.

Her gaze never left me and I knew she was thinking the same damn thing as I was. "I'm Cherry Connor."

I rocked back on my heels. A beautiful face, eyes full of innocence and fringed with black lashes. A natural blush was high on her rounded cheekbones. She had a look about her that was mysterious, but now I knew why.

I froze and so did my hardening dick. "As in Connor and Morre?"

Ah fuck. God, please tell me I didn't pop my rival's daughter's cherry.

There were only a handful of law firms we have ever lost to. Connor and Morre was one of two. I guess that didn't even equal a handful really. But when my partner lost a multimillion-dollar case to her brother's law firm—big family rift there—we both swore to never deal with them again given their battle tactics were underhanded at best. Illegal at worst. The major issue behind my partner not teaming up with her brother in our law firm. This place could have easily been Morre, Morre & Sloan.

"Yes, I'm his daughter."

I straightened and wandered closer to her by my door. Try only daughter. If memory served, a man like Connor could ruin us with a push of a button. Sure, we could do the same, but neither of us wanted to go around poking bears.

Fuck me.

Now Connor's daughter stood in my office looking fuckable, beautiful, professional and innocent as a butterfly all at once. And I was getting a hard on. Could I be any more of a fucking creep?

I scrubbed a hand down my face just as Trish shoved three files into my hands.

"You're going to be late for trial and if you are, the judge will issue a continuance."

The girl looked startled and scared for all of half a second before she pulled herself together, grabbed my briefcase and placed it in my hand. I started for the elevator, and she kept pace alongside me and then punched the down button.

"While you're gone, let me prove to you why you should hire me."

She turned a hopeful face toward me and I wanted to say yes. What's a name, right?

I glanced around us to make sure no one could hear me. "No. Ms. Connor. I won't be hiring you."

"Please. Just because I carry my father's name doesn't mean anything. Let me prove I can do the job you need. Besides, my father doesn't have to know I even work here."

The doors opened and I stepped in, but she was not letting this—or me—go. She threw a hand up and held the doors.

"This has nothing to do with your damn father and you know it. I will however be taking you home with me tonight. We have a lot to talk about. Don't think I don't recognize those sweet, delicious curves, those perfect lips and those pretty baby blues, angel."

Catching a whiff of body spray with notes of vanilla, my cock responded.

Cherry tilted her head and considered me. The shock in her expression morphed to curiosity. "I thought you wouldn't recognize me," she admitted, hooking a long rope of hair behind her ear. Her eyes noted everything about me in the light of the elevator and yeah, she saw my hard cock. I knew because she pulled a lip between her teeth in a way that made my dick twitch with hunger and her cheeks blush all the redder.

"I'll be back in two hours. Be ready by then."

"I'm not sure what I should be ready for. I don't think the nice lady who showed me in will let me hang around if I don't have a job."

"My office. Work on the files or something, I don't care. When I get back, we'll be leaving."

Her gaze jerked to meet mine. "You might think this is fun and games, but it's not, Mr. Sloan. I need this job. Please." Worry creased her brows, and shit, I didn't have time for the conversation I wanted to have with her right now.

"Grayson. Not Mr. Sloan. Not when we are alone." I paused. "Tell you what, figure out my filing system by the time I get back and we'll talk."

My eyes drew to the swing of her curvy hips and that sweet, cock-teasing ass as she turned and headed for my office.

"Wait, how old are you?"

"I'll be twenty-one next month."

Pre-cum oozed from the tip. I was in so much fucking trouble.