Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

She leans her head as close as possible to the passenger window, and with her lips cracking into a smile, she says, “You’re a heartbreaker, Mr. Mason. And someone out there is definitely going to get their heart broken.”

***

Kate’s right. You don’t judge a book by its cover. So you shouldn’t judge a building in the same way. As soon as I step inside, I’m astonished to see such an architecturally well-presented office space.

The reception area has dark wooden floorboards and crisp white walls. The back wall, where the receptionist sits, is old brickwork restored to its original condition. Hanging on the wall are various book covers sitting in large frames with an autograph at the bottom of each print. Moving closer to the reception desk, I notice that each book on that wall is a New York Times bestseller.

The sconces in the room are modern, illuminating the area and giving it a warm and inviting feel. And positioned in the corner is a vintage, brown leather couch with a bookshelf beside it housing many books. There are more books positioned on the oval-shaped coffee table which sits on a huge, off-white shaggy rug.

I want this to be my living room. All that’s missing is a fireplace and a woman sprawled in front of it naked.

The receptionist is wearing an earpiece and motions for me to wait a minute. The second she hangs up, she asks me who I am.

“Noah Mason. Here for my first day on the job.”

“Right. You’ll want Mr. Cooper,” she replies with a cute, I-want-you-to-finger-me type of smile.

She stands up and walks around the desk, careful to adjust her tight fitting skirt. She requests I follow her, and I try my damn hardest not to look at the way her firm ass shakes from side to side as she leads me through the office.

I could do so many things with that firm little ass. Clear your dirty thoughts. She looks young. You like your women with a little more life experience.

We stop at the glass office at the end of the hallway. Opening the door, the man—who I assume is Haden Cooper—motions for us to come in.

“Mr. Cooper, this is Noah Mason.”

He stands from his desk, extending his hand to shake mine. He appears very young to be running a publishing house, he’s almost my age. Tall with a muscular build, he’s wearing thick-framed reading glasses. Irritated by his beard, which he seems to be repeatedly scratching, I can notice the wedding band on his finger. Poor fella.

“Noah, pleased to meet you. Sit.”

I take a seat in the plush chair as the receptionist leaves. His office is nothing special, scattered manuscripts all over his desk with barely room for anything else. There’s a mug next to his desktop which has a picture of Homer Simpson in his briefs with the caption ‘The last perfect man.’

“So, Noah, Lex had only good things to say about you. But then again, that man could persuade anyone to do anything.”

“He does have a way with words. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Cooper.”

“Call me Haden. It’s weird, you seriously look like you could pass as my twin brother.” He chuckles.

I relax. “Perhaps. No ring on my finger, though.”

“Ah…” he smiles, “… life works in mysterious ways. That, and my wife is a ballbreak

er. I probably shouldn’t say that out loud because she’ll be lurking around here somewhere.”

“She works here, too?”

“Senior editor. I’d show you a picture but she doesn’t allow me to put a photo on my desk of her and our son. She reckons people who do that in the office are lame and missing a pair of balls.”

I like his wife already.

“So, I’m impressed with your marketing background. I think you’ll fit right in here. We need a strong push on our upcoming releases and the marketing interns we have need direction. Let’s have a meeting with them this afternoon,” he suggests.

I nod, agreeing, only to be interrupted by a stunning woman wearing a fitted pantsuit and low-cut, blue blouse. She has curly brown hair that’s tied into a bun with a loose tendril falling over her face. This office is like a candy store, except instead of candy it’s filled with sweet, beautiful pussy.

But I have to remember the golden rule—you don’t shit where you eat.

I need this job right now, and my raging libido has to go sit himself in the naughty corner alone.

“Hello.” She offers a friendly smile. “You must be Charlie’s cousin, Noah.”