Illicit

Chapter One

With my head tilted toward the sky, I gazed up at the sleek skyscraper, anticipation swirling in my gut like a vengeful trip to Taco Bell.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all anticipation.

That espresso I bought from my favorite coffee vendor on the way from the 14th Street station to Reed Tower was a bad idea. It did a number on my already nervous stomach and now I was about to crap my pants on the first day of my dream internship.

Plus, I’d already had two cups at home.

Of all the reasons to be late, this one would definitely take the cake.

With sweat beading up at my temples, I rushed inside the building. A quick scan didn’t tell me where the first floor bathrooms were, so I made a beeline for the coffeeshop in the back left corner of the massive lobby. They wouldn’t sell coffee without a bathroom close by; that would be a recipe for disaster.

Look at me proving my point.

There was a line of people waiting to order, but thankfully, no line for the single bathroom. I tugged on the handle, cursing under my breath when I found it locked. Tapping the toe of my black high heels against the tile impatiently, I crossed my arms as I prayed to any god willing to listen. My guts twisted and churned, sending lightning bolts of pain to my butthole like little messages of warning.

Mayday! Mayday!

It was going to happen soon. No question about that.

The question was this: would I be inside the bathroom and safely on the toilet when the explosion happened, or would I be standing here, in the middle of this coffee shop for all eyes to see?

My mouth watered as a fresh wave of cramping rushed over me. Panicking, I reached up and knocked. Just three quick raps. I didn’t want to be rude, but the person inside needed to be alerted that there was a five alarm fire about to happen on the other side of the door. A crisis that could be averted if they would only

hurry

the hell

up.

Folks, we’re about to have a really shitty situation on our hands.

The sound of running water came from inside the bathroom, followed by the telltale roar of a hand dryer, and I began counting down the seconds until the bathroom door opened.

A trickle of sweat dripped from my hairline, down past my ear. Gas pushed at my exit door, but I squeezed my cheeks together and prayed for a miracle. This was definitely not the time to gamble on a fart.

“Hurry up,” I grumbled under my breath.

The door opened and a tall, dark-haired Adonis strolled out. I should have been embarrassed but I didn’t have time to feel anything but dread, and thankfully, he barely acknowledged my presence as I hurried past him–

Until I knocked against his arm in the process of rushing inside.

I looked back at him with wide eyes that I hoped conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

With a cocky smirk, he raised one eyebrow and made a little grunt of amusement as I hauled myself inside and closed the door.

Like he’d never had a close call before? Give me a break.

Even pretty people pooped.

I slipped the lock into place, then raced to lay out a seat cover, dropping my purse on the floor in the process. I groaned as the contents spilled out and my ChapStick rolled across the floor, but there was nothing to be done about that. Ain’t nobody got the time.

Praying that the seat cover wasn’t knocked off the seat in my haste to sit, I plopped down to empty my bowels.

I get it, I get it, that third coffee was a seriously bad idea.

Mistakes were made!

Panic began to dissipate, releasing me from its grip as the relief of making it in time washed over me. Breathing deeply to calm my nerves, I paused. That gorgeous man’s scent was all over the bathroom. It was a musky, manly cologne that almost masked what I was doing to this poor toilet.

As I finished up, I glanced at my watch. I still had a few minutes to make it upstairs for my first day. I’d wanted to be early, not on-time, but arriving on schedule wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person–I’d just narrowly avoided that by making it to the toilet in time.

After I washed my hands, I used the dampness on my palms to smooth my windblown baby hairs back into my ponytail so it didn’t look like I’d just raced three blocks on foot to spare myself from a full-on Maya Rudolph in Bridesmaids shitting-in-the-middle-of-the-street scenario. I retrieved my ChapStick from the floor, washed it with soap and water, then slipped it back into my purse and left the restroom. Thankfully, the tall, dark, and sexy smirker was nowhere to be found, and no one waited in line for the bathroom that I just ruined for the foreseeable future.

I strolled back into the lobby, pausing to admire the colossal tree statue in the center. I hadn’t been able to appreciate it before because, well, you know. It stretched up three floors, with the second, third, and fourth floor balconies wrapping around the open center of the building. Above the fourth floor, the center of the building was closed off. From the ceiling, hanging down around the leaves and branches of the massive tree and suspended by nearly invisible wires, were fluffy white clouds and books hanging open like birds. Inside the trunk and wrapping around the tree was a play structure, and on the right side of the tree, mirroring the coffee shop on the left, was a gargantuan library–one of the biggest in all of Manhattan, I’d learned while researching for this internship.

Reed Tower was home to many companies, but the most important one was at the top, taking up the seventy-third, seventy-fourth, and seventy-fifth floors. Owned by one of the oldest and wealthiest families on the East Coast, Reed Publishing was a mega-giant in the book world, with their romance imprint alone being home to more than a dozen of the leading names in the industry.

And I, Rylan Blake, was about to start my internship shadowing the brilliant CEO of Reed Publishing, Mr. Cabot Reed himself. A life changing opportunity and one I didn’t intend to waste–or be late for, even though my guts tried to steer me off course.

But I won that round. Ha!

I joined a group of people waiting for the elevators and when one of them opened, I shuffled forward. Like me, everyone stepped inside and made themselves smaller to accommodate the other passengers.

All but one of them.

And wouldn’t you know, it was the Smirker from the coffeeshop bathroom.

He stood in the center of the elevator, staring straight ahead, completely unaffected as the sea of people spread around him, settling into whatever space he didn't take up.

Ugh. I knew I didn’t like him. Forget the fact that he was gorgeous and smelled absolutely divine; he was obviously the proud owner of an overinflated ego.

I’d met plenty of him at Vassar.

His name was probably Chad or Brad or… Thad.

Thaddeus.

Settling in beside him, I faced the doors as they closed. He still smelled amazing, I’d give him that. And his scent alone made me want to climb him like a tree. If I had less self control, I'd rub up against him like a cat just so I could carry that scent with me the rest of the day. Taking a chance, I glanced at his reflection in the mirrored elevator doors.

His shoes were obviously expensive, oxblood wingtips and buffed like he just paid some guy on the street for a shine–and probably ignored him the entire time. His suit paints were a dark gray plaid and perfectly creased down the center of each leg. They fit him so well that they grew nicely snug around his thighs.

With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, the bottom half of his jacket was parted beneath the double buttons, and the way his pants puckered outward below his belt…

Well, let’s just say Thaddeus wasn’t only hedging his funds, if you know what I mean.

No, that doesn’t work.

His ego wasn’t the only thing that was big.

Ah, now you’re with me.

I raised my eyebrows in appreciation and lifted my gaze to examine his face–

And froze.

Dark eyelashes rimmed even darker eyes.

Eyes that were locked on mine.

I quickly dropped my gaze, breathing deeply to calm my racing heart, even though doing so pulled his delicious scent deeper into my body, giving it permission to tighten my belly. The elevator stopped and I stepped out of the way as people exited the car, settling back into place beside him as the elevator resumed its ascent. I chanced another look at him in the reflection, sucking in a breath when I found him watching me again. Dark eyes held mine intensely, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in… what? Amusement? Challenge?

His full lips were quirked up to the side of course, and something about that smirk made my jaw tighten. So he’d caught me eyeing the goods, big deal.

Settle down, Thaddeus.

I didn’t have to like the guy to like the way he looked.

I cleared my throat and focused my eyes straight ahead, even though they strained to look at him again.

Hey, the eyes want what the eyes want.

While not looking at him was a struggle, I managed to keep my eyes from making the short journey back to his in the reflection coming off the metal doors.

As the elevator continued to ascend, it opened occasionally to allow others to exit, but by the forty-fifth floor, I was alone with the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.

And I wanted to lay a whole lot more on him than my eyes.

But get real, who would do anything like that in real life?

If this were a romance novel, I’d muster up all my Main Character Energy and I’d press that emergency stop button. Then I’d wipe that smirk off his face by sitting on it.

But alas, this was real life, and real life looks\ed more like me making it to my new job on time…

Without the tousled hair of someone who’d just been freshly fucked.

Sadly.

As I stepped to the side to put some distance between us, my heel caught on the hem of my opposite pant leg and I stumbled forward–

Lightning fast, Thaddeus the Smirker grabbed my elbow, steadying me with a firm grip that sent heat up my arm and down into my belly.

I looked into those onyx eyes head on, instantly regretting it. Those eyes–combined with the sensual scent of him–made this girl weak in the damn knees.

I knew nothing about him, save for the fact that he was an arrogant asshole with expensive shoes, who made people move aroundhim instead of being courteous and stepping out of their way.

He also smelled like sex and looked like a god.

Take me to church!

“You should be more careful.”

Oh, good grief. And his voice. The man sounded like a phone sex operator. Deep and slightly rumbly, this man’s voice could bring a woman to her knees by reciting the freaking alphabet.

“You should narrate audiobooks.”

His eyebrows quirked up as he released me, then he bent to retrieve the book that fell out of my purse when I stumbled. When his eyes found mine again, that annoying smirk was back in place, twisting those beautiful full lips into something mocking. “Simona Steele?”

I bristled as I waited for the snarky comment.

“Interesting reading material.”

How dare. I scoffed. Closing my mouth quickly, I ignored his comment–or at least tried to as I yanked the book from his hands and tucked it against my chest protectively.

Of course a man this handsome had to be a jerk.