Adrian (Filthy Rich Alphas)

“Not as productive as writing has been for you. Every day, you type for hours on end.” I winked at her. “The publishing company must love it when you don’t get laid.”

A smile exploded on her face. “If my editor had any idea that I write when I’m horny, she’d probably have me kidnapped and shipped off to an island where no men existed, and there were tons of notebooks and pens to keep me busy.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The noise brought me back to the hallway and the sound of Carmen’s typing.

What story are you creating?

Tap. Groan. Sigh. Tap. Sigh.

“No!” Carmen yelled. “This is just insane. Focus. I can’t have him do that.”

Tap. Tap. Groan.

Something was off today. Carmen sighed like a woman desperate to get over something. Even the speed of her typing came out faster than usual.

Have I knocked you off your game? Can’t be. You’re writing. Are you super horny now because of me? No. I can’t even think like that. But what if she’s horny because of me? What would I do?

I whispered to myself, “I have to see what you wrote.”

Would it matter? Maybe. What else could I do?

Then an idea surged to my head.

“Fuck. I know what I’ll do.” I left Carmen to her typing and decided to do a little writing of my own. This idea had to work.

Chapter 5

Mind Sex

Carmen

After penning enough sex to make a porn screenwriter blush, I picked up my phone and texted Nick. I had to get Adrian and that situation off my mind. I had to talk to my fiancé about the whole thing.

Maybe then the heat will leave my skin, and my freaking panties will stop getting wet!

I typed in a quick message to my fiancé.

Me: Will you be home for dinner?

Nick: I can’t.

Me: What? Why not?

Nick: Adrian and I had a busy day at the office.

I looked up from my phone and glanced at the door.

What is he talking about? Adrian has been standing outside of my door the majority of the day.

Another text came through to my phone.

Nick: We’re going to grab a bite somewhere and then rush back to the office to finish.

Am I really supposed to believe that? A man who owns several companies has to run back to one of those many corporations and pull an all-nighter? No way.

Nick worked so hard in his youth that he’d earned the right to hand over negotiations to people he trusted. Even worse, Adrian had been in the hallway outside of my room all day, stalking me. I’d finally caught Nick in a lie. I’d assumed his dishonesty from the very beginning, but then those poems changed my thinking.

A man who wrote that poetry had a deepness inside of him that was worth exploring and opening up.

I didn’t even reply. There was no reason to continue the stupidity that we called an engagement. A rushed courtship represented several red flags on both of our ends. It showed how desperate I’d been to be loved, and how hurried he was to get into my panties.

Stupid, Carmen. So dumb.

I’d just gotten out of a five-year relationship when I met Nick. My ex-boyfriend, Paul, was a doctor now. We’d met in college and moved to Miami together while he pursued medical school. Once he started residency, lipstick began showing up on the white coats that I washed for him. When I approached him about the lipstick, he admitted that he had an affair with a nurse. I broke up with him that same day.

A few months later, I stood in Ford Enterprises where Nick asked me out, after the contract signing. Although excited about my new wealth, my broken heart had darkened my days. Nick swooped me up and distracted me. He kept my mind off of the one-who-must-not-ever-be-named. Not that Nick had an easy time courting me. Bearing a damaged heart meant that most of the time, I considered all men douchebags. I’d said no to Nick over and over until he changed his approach and started sending me his poetry.

What a talented man.

People thought that physical attributes ensnared a lover. No way. The mind set the trap. Delicate words strengthened the bars. Considerate actions reinforced the lock. Every time I thought I would give up, take off his ring, and leave his mansion, Nick placed another poem on my desk.

The man jailed me with his words.

My phone beeped. I glanced at Nick’s new text message.

Nick: Sorry, I can’t come tonight. We’ll do something special this weekend. Isn’t your birthday coming up? I’ll have to get you something big. What do you want?

“What?” I scrunched my face up in confusion. “You bought me the laptop for my birthday last week. Don’t you remember? What is going on?”

Was it really from Nick? What the hell is going on?

My phone beeped again. I checked Nick’s new message.