Dare To Resist (Dare Nation 1)

Prologue

Austin Prescott sat in the offices of Dare Nation, the newly minted sports agency he’d opened with Paul Dare, a man he’d grown up considering like a father to him. Instead he and his siblings had recently discovered that Uncle Paul was their biological dad courtesy of sperm donation. Life was crazy. But then in the Dare world, it probably fell under the definition of normal. Family came in all shapes and sizes.

And in Austin’s family, he was to be the kidney donor for Paul in two weeks, which meant his need to find an assistant was urgent. He tapped his foot impatiently, in no mood to deal with yet another interview. He’d spoken to enough women in the last week to make his head spin, and he still hadn’t found the right fit.

He needed someone who could keep up with negotiations and someone who could sit at the fanciest restaurants with players and their wives who thought their shit didn’t stink, all while being smarter than anyone else in the room. Except for him, of course. And someone who could handle the office while he was out on medical leave.

So far he’d interviewed Ivy League graduates with attitude and average students with MBAs who just wanted an in to meet and fuck a sports star. And Austin had plenty of experience with the latter. Hell, since his Division One NCAA days followed by his NFL career, he could bed any female he wanted, but he had to admit, easy lays were getting old. He wasn’t ready to settle down, but his days of picking up women every weekend were becoming fewer and farther between. Not that he was a monk, far from it. A man had needs.

He lifted his phone to let Bri, his publicist sister who’d been helping him out until he could find an assistant, know that he wanted to cancel whoever was left for the day and start over tomorrow when a knock sounded on his office door.

“Come in!” he called out, wondering why his sibling felt the need to knock.

“Mr. Prescott?” an unfamiliar feminine voice that went straight to his cock asked as she stepped inside and blew his mind. “The woman at the desk outside said I should just knock.”

A gorgeous vision in a slim black skirt and a white blouse that should have looked like a uniform but instead had him wanting to bend her over his desk stepped into the room.

His gaze slid down to black pumps with enough of a heel to elongate those sexy tanned legs. Legs he wouldn’t mind having wrapped around his waist as he fucked her senseless. Because from the tips of her toes to the top of her shoulder-length raven-colored hair, she epitomized class and perfection personified. The red lipstick merely added to her appeal.

“Mr. Prescott?” she asked, causing him to realize he’d been staring.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting another applicant this afternoon. Ms.…”

“Quinnlyn Stone but everyone calls me Quinn.”

He rose to his feet, hoping she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. “Nice to meet you, Quinn.” He extended his hand as she stepped forward. No sooner had she slid her cool palm against his than a jolt of unexpected electricity sparked between them.

Shit. This was bad. Very, very bad. He could not desire a woman who might work for him.

“Have a seat,” he said in a gruff voice, gesturing to the dual chairs across from his desk.

“Thank you.” She walked over and lowered herself into one, sliding her legs to one side.

Like he thought, classy, unlike the many women who’d deliberately crossed and uncrossed their legs in an effort to draw his attention to their … assets.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. “My resume, in case you didn’t have a copy in front of you,” she said.

“I appreciate you being prepared.” And since he hadn’t been paying attention to who his next candidate was and had hoped to cancel, he really did need the information. He accepted the resume and read through the page. “University of Miami undergrad and business school,” he said, impressed with her education. “So where are you from?” He met her emerald gaze, held captive by the depths of those green eyes.

“Florida born and raised. I couldn’t go far from home. My family needed me,” she said somewhat cryptically.

“I see.” It wasn’t his business to ask why, though he was intrigued.

“I went on partial scholarship. As you can see, I graduated cum laude.”

He’d noticed her honors degree. “And before this, you had a position with the Panthers,” he said of the minor league team where she’d been an assistant to an assistant.

She rolled her shoulders. “It’s called the ladder to success for a reason. I had to start somewhere. I have my letters of recommendation here, too.” She leaned down to reach inside her purse again.