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 tightly fitting skirt. She requests I follow her, and I try my damn hardest to not 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 looks very young to be running a publishing house, almost my age. Tall with a muscular build, wearing thick-framed reading glasses. He appears to be irritated by his beard, scratching it repeatedly. I can see 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 us. His office is nothing special, scattered manuscripts all over his desk with barely room for anything else. There is a mug next to his desktop that 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 just 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 ballbreaker. I probably shouldn’t say that out loud because she’s probably 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 that people who do that in the office are lame and missing a pair of balls.”

  I already liked his wife.

  He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for me to sit down on one of the two leather chairs facing the back of his computer.

  “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 is tied up 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.”

  Crap. She knows Charlie. Game over.

  “That I am,” I answer politely.

  She introduces herself. “I’m Presley Malone.”

  Haden coughs. He shoots her an annoyed, wary look.

  “Sorry, Presley Malone-Cooper,” she says, rolling her eyes back at him.

  I laugh softly. “Ahhh . . . the wife.”

  Definitely game over.

  “When the title fits,” Haden quips, stroking his beard.

  “Stop being a jerk, Haden,” she fires back, trying her best to disguise her smirk. “Anyway, it’s great to have you on board. I hope that Haden was kind enough to invite you out for drinks tonight?”

  “I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. It’s what happens when Mrs. Know-It-All interrupts,” he complains. “So, Noah, are you free for drinks tonight?”

  “I had plans but I can change them to later tonight.”

  “I’m sure you men will have fun. Listen, I’m off. If you need me, I’ll be trying to get through to an author about her manuscript having too much sex in it.”

  “And I told you, there’s no such thing,” Haden states with a playful smile on his lips. I would have the same smile if I were tapping her sweet ass every fucking night.

  “Are we having this argument again? There needs to be a plot. A story to make the readers want more. A sex scene on every page is overkill.”

  Their argument continues on, and the more I observe, the more I see that Haden purposely riles Presley up to get a reaction from her. It’s comical, to say the least. I see now why Charlie and Kate joke about him being a jerk.

  After not agreeing on anything, Presley walks out, leaving Haden and me alone.

  “My wife,” he says with a small laugh. “Do you see what I have to deal with every day? Ballbuster. Too damn stubborn.”

  “Headstrong is a preferable word to use. Much like Charlie and her friend Kate.”

  “You know Kate?” He follows with a whistle. “The three of them together are like Charlie’s Angels—excuse the irony of the name. Trying to battle with everyone while standing up for equality for women. Kate’s a troublemaker,” he finishes with a soft laugh.

  “Interesting, I only met her today. A feisty Brit at that.”

  “She’s fun. Not as uptight as Presley and Charlie. I think they have this need to protect her from the awful men lurking around New York City. They’re forever on her back and don’t seem to get that she’s a free spirit. Doesn’t care what people think, just does what makes her happy.”

  Interesting way to describe Kate. She came across as fun-loving and relaxed, not one of those women desperate to get married and have babies. Maybe that’s why I like her; I don’t feel this unwarranted pressure around her.

  “Look, I’m gathering that you’re hooking up with someone tonight so don’t worry about drinks. Seriously, I totally get it.”

  I don’t want to tell him it’s Kate. Having only just met Haden, I don’t know if he would encourage me to spend time with her or warn me against it. Despite what he just said, people have a funny way of reacting to things and it’s best to keep it on the down low for now.

  “Someone just invited me to some bar in Malibu but it’s no trouble.”

  “I’m not getting in the way of a man and some pussy. Trust me . . .” He laughs. “We’ll have drinks later this week. We’ll try to convince Lex to come out but knowing him, he’ll be out of town as usual.”

  I spent the remainder of the day being shown the ropes. By five pm, I was beat. I’d made my way back to Charlie’s for a quick change before driving out to Malibu on her bike. It took a lot of convincing, especially because it was her baby, and after an hour-long lecture on road safety, she finally handed me the keys. I packed some extra clothes, unsure of where the night would lead me.

  Between Kate’s legs . . . hopefully.

  It was bumper-to-bumper traffic up to Malibu; some dick lost his load which caused a major traffic jam. Thank god I took her bike, swerving in and out of the traffic to avoid further delays. By the time I arrived, I couldn’t have been happier to have a drink in my hand. I just had to consume less so I could drive back home.

  Moving through the crowd, I see Kate sitting out on the big deck staring into the ocean. She’s wearing the same clothes as this morning, but her expression looks bleak. Nothing at all like the fun-loving Kate I saw earlier today or the one that Haden described.

  Same look.

  Same story.

  Someone has broken her.

  That guy. The one with the big balls.

  Ugh.

  Charlie warned me—not once, but twice—to be on my best behavior. Focus on my career and not on women. Especially ones in her circle of friends.

  I try not to come across as a stalker, though I’m half covered by a large bush, watching her from afar. Not at all stalker-like, you idiot.

  I observe the way she quietly sits at the table; the cell in front of her appears to be a distraction. As if on autopilot, she picks it up, stares at the screen, places it back down, then repeats minutes later. Her foot taps impatiently under the table, causing her skirt to ride up. She doesn’t appear bothered, allowing it to do so, then on second thought, pulls it slightly down again.

  I walk slowly towards her until I’m by her side.

  “Hello, stranger.”

  “‘Bout time you got here, Mr. Mason,” she says with an upbeat cheer. “Time to have some fun now.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She grabs my hand and a large purse, pulling me through the not-so-crowded bar until we find ourselves on the footpath leading to the sand. As if in a mad rush, her heels click against the concrete until we reach the end of the path where the sand leads to the ocean. Bending down while holding onto my shoulder, she removes her shoes, her bare feet now touching the soft sand.

  The sun has set, the sky darkening with a hint of pink. With her hand pulling me towards the shore, she settles on a spot beside a metal lifeguard chair. My body jerks towards the ground as she pulls me down with her and removes a bottle of tequila from her purse.

  Opening the lid, she takes a drink, letting out a roar as the tequila makes its way down her throat. “Goodbye,” she shouts, holding the bottle up to the sky, “to bad decisions, and wankers that need to get a fucking life!”

  She takes another drink. I warn her to slow down, attempting to pull the bottle from her hand.

  “You know what your problem is?”

  It didn’t take long, the tequila already running through her veins resulting in a drunken slur.

  “What?”

  “You’re too uptight.”

  I let out a chuckle, followed by a triumphant smirk. “Oh Kate, you honestly don’t know me.”

  “Yes I do.” She stands up in a rush, swaying slightly. “You like to fuck women. Lots of women. You don’t care about their feelings. You just think with your dick and your dick has all the fun.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? I don’t need to settle down . . . yet.”

  “Exactly.” She points out, “I was just like you. Doing my thing. Having fun. I didn’t want a relationship. Now look at me!” she cries loudly. “I’m a goddamn mess.”

  “You’re not a mess, Kate. Sit down and just slow down on the tequila.”

  She listens to me, plonking herself down on the sand, letting out a huge sigh.

  “I just need to let loose again. Have fun. Find a way to forget the last six months ever happened. I want to have sex. I want to fuck like I’m alive. You get me?”

  I get her all too much. I let out a sigh myself. I’m not supposed to be back here. This here is everything that got me in trouble in the first place. There’s plenty of people that would have my face on a target if I touched her. Charlie, Lex, Haden . . . fuck, there could be more. We could just have fun, we could chat. I don’t need to fuck her.

  Be strong. She’s messed up, big time. Don’t succumb to your old ways.

  “C’mon Noah.” She hands me the tequila, waiting for me to take a drink.

  I stare at the bottle, thinking about how this time last month I was at the beach with Benny and Tom, getting wasted while we played volleyball with a group of Brazilian women on vacation. We laughed till our stomachs hurt, drank till we puked our guts out, and fucked those three women like desperate cavemen.

  And now . . . I am here.

  Without a friend, alone, and living with my mistakes.

  Unscrewing the cap, I bring the bottle to my lips and swallow the tequila till it burns my throat and I can no longer stand it.

  Kate cheers loudly, “That’s my boy! Forget it all exists, if only for tonight.”

  I repeat until we both fall into a fit of laughter, watching as the sky turns dark and the barely seen stars twinkle in the distance.

  “Fancy getting wet?” Her eyes light up, waiting for me to respond, while the bottle of tequila touches her lips and makes its way down.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “Cocky bastard.” She grins, inching her body closer to me. Her fingertip rests on my lip, then slowly drags along the bottom, stirring a reaction in my pants. “Trust me, I already am.”

  She shoves the bottle into my chest and I finish the remaining tequila. Kate stands in front of me, removing her blouse, then sliding her skirt down. In only her red lacey panties and bra, she holds my gaze with a devilish smile. “You only live once, right?”

  That’s what they all say.

  And for tonight, like every other night, I strongly agree.

  Chapter 5

  I’d read somewhere that the West Coast beaches have extremely cold water compared to the East Coast, due to the Californian current. Never in my life have I shivered as much as I’m shivering right now. It’s spring, so granted, it isn’t exactly beach weather. But this is fucking ridiculous. I won’t allow my teeth to chatter, curbing the need by biting down and keeping my legs moving in the water. My skin is hurting so bad that I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of experiencing hypothermia.

  It’s dark out. Only the lights from the horizon of houses sitting on mountains along with the oceanfront properties and restaurants illuminate the area. This stretch of beach is quiet, and the only sounds heard are the waves and Kate’s splashing around me.

  “Cold?” she asks, giggling before dunking her head backwards into the water.

  “Uh, you could say that.” I try to remain unaffected, but I could swear my balls have fallen off and swam to shore seeking refuge under a warm beach blanket.

  “I’m from England, so this is tropically fantastic.”

  “Compared to the English Channel?” I tease, moving my arms in a circular motion to remain warm.

  “I love my country. But our beaches suck.”

  “Interesting, you don’t seem too fond of California.”

  “Not California, American men,” she comments with an air or arrogance.

  I swim closer to her, and with the feeling coming back to my frozen limbs, I place my hand on her hip, drawing her in, and whisper, “I’m an American man but trust me, baby, you’ll have fun.”

  I move my mouth closer to hers and gently brush her bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. She breaks away and circles me like a hungry shark, full of laughter and flirtatious gestures. She doesn’t seem so sad now, but maybe the tequila has something to do with that.

  “I need to confess something.” She giggles with a hiccup. “This is the first time I’ve

  skinny dipped.”

  “Well technically, Kate, you’re not skinny dipping unless you’re completely naked.”

  She stops swimming and moves back towards me. Stretching her arm around her back, she unclasps her bra, removing it in one go. Her tits float towards me, making my dick slightly hard, her pink nipples teasing me through the moonlight.

  “Happy now? Mr. American?” she teases softly.

  I shake my head, prompting her to completely strip down. I’ve never had sex in the ocean—a first time for everything. Using a rubber seems highly unlikely at this time given that it is sitting in my wallet back at shore. And then I start to think about all the ocean life floating around us, and try to ignore whatever the fuck just brushed against my leg.

  Please let it be seaweed.

  Kate leans forward, her arms moving around in the water until she raises one arm proudly holding a pair of panties. “How about now?”

  This time, I move closer to her, and with our mouths barely apart, I kiss her lips while my hands move freely around her ass. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, tracing the top of my boxers and pulling them down as best as she can. I shake my leg, motioning for them to fall off.

  Goodbye boxers. Fuck, they were my expensive ones too.

  “You should take this as time to be quiet and let me finger this beautiful pussy of yours.” My lips move towards her ear, grazing the side of her lobe while my fingers trace her hips and move closer to the front, allowing me to slide my finger inside. The second I’m in, she lets out a small yelp while tilting her head back. A warm sensation runs through my body, relaxing my sore muscles from the nasty cold.

  “That’s it, ride my finger, nice and slow,” I whisper.

  Arching her back, she wraps her arms around my neck for support, pushing herself deeper into me. “I shouldn’t fuck you . . .” she murmurs with a guilty plea.

  “Give me one good reason why not,” I demand, thrusting my finger slightly deeper.

  For once, she chooses not to talk, and instead leads our bodies closer to the shoreline until we are standing on two feet. With her body naked in front of me, her erect nipples tease me relentlessly until I have no choice but to fuck her. Right here. Right now.

  “Not here,” she says. “Let’s get out of the water.”

  Pulling my hand along, I follow her to where our clothes lie as she grabs me and pushes my back towards the sand.

  OK. Fuck. It’s cold.

  She stands above me, giving me the perfect angle to admire her beautifully manicured pussy. “Do you want to fuck me, Noah Mason?”

  “When your pussy is staring at me like a wild beast, how could I not want to fuck you?”

  “Then I ask one thing of you.” Her tone, sharp and fierce, is unlike the giggly Kate who was floating around the water only moments ago.

  “What’s that?”

  Her chest is heaving, wild eyes staring back at me, ready to pounce. “I’m going to fuck YOU. Do you understand? And I don’t fuck quietly.”

  Is this really happening? Without drawing any attention, the corners of my eyes scan the area around us, certain I’m being punked on some reality TV show. When I can see we’re alone—aside from two people in the far distance—I nod my head, excited by the thought.