Falling into Temptation © 2015 A. Zavarelli

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Victoria

Frozen on the street corner, paralyzing fear snakes through my body, effectively seizing all the air from my lungs. I’m in the middle of the Concrete Jungle, but I may as well be a deer in the woods. Hunted.

It’s the same feeling I always get when I see a woman who resembles my tormentor. Cars are rushing by, horns blaring, people pushing past me. But it’s all drowned out while I try to steady my breath and focus on the figure across the street.

My heart feels like a jackhammer in my chest as I try to make out the woman’s facial features. She’s wearing a hat and sunglasses, but she’s looking right at me. At least I think she is. But why?

We’re at a standoff. I know I should run, but my body refuses to move. I’m so tired of running. So tired of this scenario. Could it really be her? Has she managed to find me in a city amongst millions of other people? I don’t know, but I can’t take that chance.

I begin making a mental list to gather up my belongings, find Alanna, and leave the city within the hour. But just as I turn to run, a man approaches the mystery woman and kisses her on the cheek.

I’m transfixed by this turn of events and can’t force myself to look away. The woman removes her sunglasses, and an overwhelming sense of relief floods over me. It isn’t her. I sprint off in the other direction, relieved and embarrassed at the same time. It looks like I will live to see another day after all.

My real name is Victoria Colletti although I go by the alias Victoria Kelly now. I’m not a spy, or a CIA agent, or anything that exciting, although I often wish that were the case. I’m just your run of the mill twenty-four-year old, except I happen to be on the run in New York City. Before that, it was a long list of other big cities, and the occasional small secluded town where I thought I could hide.

But everywhere I go, there’s always the same scenario. The same almost daily battle of seeing someone who resembles her, the woman I can never escape. Fear controls my life if you could even call it that. I’ve been on the run for so many years now I don’t think I’ll ever have any semblance of a normal life. Whenever I’ve tried to settle down in one place and finally get comfortable, the close calls become real. The woman standing on the other side of the street has turned out to be real in some cities. And I’ve learned my lesson from those close encounters, never settling in one place longer than three months now.

This is what my life has become. I used to run because I was afraid for myself. But somewhere along the line, my feelings evolved, and I stopped caring about my fate. I run now, simply because I don’t want her to hurt any more of the people that I love. Anyone who is just an innocent bystander in all of this. It’s happened once before, and I swore to myself I will never let it happen again.

My time on the run has been full of hard lessons and bitter pills. I feel like a coward for letting her win, but I don’t know any other way. I’m weak and filled with self-hatred. I’m not ashamed to admit that because it’s painfully obvious.

I always feel like I’m split in half. There is the shy, timid me who craves love and acceptance. And then there is the reckless part of me, like a willful teenager crying out for attention- the one who will do almost anything to get it. These days, more often than not, my shy and timid side is making an appearance, and it feels good to finally leave reckless me behind.

Chapter Two

Gabriel

“Fuck!”

My eyes sweep the streets while I check my watch for the fifth time in under a minute.

I’m already late for this meeting with my father, and Paul is stuck in traffic somewhere. But Richard Maddox doesn’t give a shit about afternoon traffic reports. No, my tardiness will have no viable excuse. Yet, on some deep level, it will please him. Because it will only serve to prove that he’s right about me.

While my mother is pushing her agenda for me to take over the company, I think Richard Maddox would love to see me fail. And though I have my own suspicions about it, it’s not something I ever plan on addressing. Because that’s what we do in the Maddox family. We get together and drink and eat, and talk about the finer things in life, but never our real problems. Because that would be beneath us.

And though I have no desire to take over this company, it still bothers me to know that Richard sees me as a threat. I think I’ve been more than accommodating in giving into the unspoken terms of this deal. He wants me to be the bad guy, so I am. I take that role, and I wear it well. The whole world thinks I’m one giant fucking asshole.

It’s what’s expected of me. To show up whenever I feel like it. Not to take anything seriously. Because I’m heir to the Maddox throne. The one that all of New York has their eye on.

But today, this meeting…. it’s actually important to me, though I’d never admit that out loud. Because there will be investors in that room. Investors I have every intention of impressing later on. But I’m not off to a good start this morning. And when I arrive late, only to be greeted by one of Richard’s disapproving looks, it isn’t going to bode well for me. He won’t hesitate to give me the same stale lecture about getting my life together. My father and I seem to have wildly conflicting ideas of what that actually means.

I have my own plans, plans that nobody approves of. It seems like the whole world can only ever see me as one thing. The haughty rich bastard of the Maddox family. Everybody seems to have their own ideas about me, but almost all of them are far from the truth. I don’t want the Maddox name or the throne that comes with it. And I refuse to accept that it’s my only choice in life. I’ve earned my own money through investments and the military, and I live a somewhat modest lifestyle. I still work for my father to appease him, but I’m working on building my own company. And Mrs. Caroline Maddox is none too pleased about it.

For a brief moment, I think that maybe they are all right about me. Maybe it’s a joke to think I could ever do anything else with my life. Maybe I shouldn’t bother showing up at all. I could just take the rest of the day off, get a nice bottle of whiskey and call Anya. Yes, Anya… always so eager to please. I could fuck her senseless for the rest of the day as long as I don’t have to listen to her talk. Maybe if I duct taped her mouth…. I wonder if she would go for that? Of course she would. Because she’s trying to get her claws into me. She will do anything I ask.

I really need to find someone new to fuck. Someone not so… boring. I need a challenge. Like that model from the gallery last week. What was her name? Brittany or Bethany… something like that.

As I lift my head to check the traffic once more, I’m hit by a flurry of dark hair, ripped jeans and a red jacket. I stumble back a step, momentarily knocked off balance, and all the paperwork in my hands flutters down around me.

“God dammit!” I growl. This is just what I need right now.

I cast an irritated glance at the petite figure on the ground in front of me. She’s scurrying to collect her own belongings, with no apparent concern for my own. She hasn’t even bothered to acknowledge me, or offer up an apology. I can barely see her face under the unruly tangles of long dark hair, and that only irritates me further. She’s panting hard, her fingers trembling from what seems like fear. For a moment, an unwelcome pang of sympathy hits me in the gut, but I don’t let it show. I’m already late, and I don’t have time for this bullshit.

I step closer, brushing out my now rumpled suit. Still, she refuses to look up or acknowledge me. So I clear my throat and tap my foot impatiently. That ought to get her fucking attention.

Nope, still nothing. I try to reign in the anger brewing inside of me as I stare at the haphazard figure on the ground. She is petite and short, in other words not my type at all. Still, my dick jumps to attention as I scan the curves of her slim figure. My dick doesn’t seem to be particularly picky today.

And yet, she seems content to just keep ignoring me. Does she even realize who I am? I can’t remember the last time someone was this rude to me. Even if people don’t like me, they always pretend to my face. It comes with the name. But not this chick.

I fight the unwelcome image of taking her over my knee right here in the street for pissing me off. Slapping the shit out of that sweet little ass of hers. I wonder what this rude girl would think of that….

I shake my head and try to shrug off the errant thought. The last thing I need is another Chandra Freestone on my hands.

Fuck. That. Shit.

“Would you mind giving me back my documents?” I bark.

Finally, my voice seems to elicit a response from her as her gaze meets mine for the first time. And she has the audacity to look angry at me. She’s actually scowling at me.

Normally, that kind of insolence would have sent me over the edge, especially after this morning’s events. But I’m distracted by the pair of eyes staring back at me. They are a dark amber color with flecks of light honey all around them. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and it’s unexpected. Her creamy white skin is flawless, contrasting starkly to her dark mahogany hair. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s clenching her jaw in annoyance.

But, oh those lips. They are tinted with a bright cherry red lipstick that matches her ankle length red leather boots. My eyes travel down her body greedily, taking in the soft curves under the fishnets and ripped jean shorts. She looks both sweet and wild at the same time. My cock hardens painfully and I fight the urge to adjust myself.

In a moment of extraordinary bravery, the girl shoves the papers into my chest as she glares up at me. “Here asshole, now get lost!”

I stumble back a moment, disbelief washing over me. And I have no idea why but I’m grinning back at her. This temperamental, wild creature in front of me who has the nerve to put me in my place. She’s staring back at me, just as bewildered as I am about the stupid grin on my face. As I reach down to retrieve the papers pressed against my chest, I purposely brush my hand against hers. Her skin is soft, just like I expected, and I can only imagine how well it would do beneath my flogger.

But I can see that she’s getting ready to leave, and I have to engage her somehow. I have to know more about her.

“Excuse me,” I say. “But how am I the asshole here? What have I done to warrant that response?”

My mocking laughter only makes her more determined. “Well, let’s see…” She cocks her hand on her hip as she rises to her feet. “You’re standing there like you think you own the damn place, tapping your foot at me while you treat me like I’m an idiot. A gentleman might have offered to actually help instead of worrying about getting his expensive suit dirty.”

My jaw clenches at her response. Of course, that’s how she would see me.

“Well, technically speaking,” I say coolly, “this is my building you almost took me out in front of. So forgive me for not feeling obliged to help when I, in fact, did nothing wrong.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Spare me the bullshit. I know exactly who you are and I’m not impressed. You can forget about me pandering to your ego if that’s what you expect. I don’t give a shit what your last name is, your manners suck. And on that note, I have already taken up too much of your precious time, so you can leave now.”

I laugh because it can’t be helped. There is something about this woman’s hostility that turns me on.

Nobody- especially women- ever talk to me that way. And I find it oddly refreshing. She’s intriguing and exciting in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. In an attempt to save face with her, I bend down and help her retrieve the rest of her parcels. Her mouth almost falls open in astonishment.

Paul the driver emerges from the black sedan at the curb, surprising me. I didn’t even see him pull up. He clears his throat nervously before speaking.

“I apologize, sir, for running late. I can take you now.”

I wave him off without speaking, much to his relief. I was probably a complete dick to him on the phone earlier whether I meant it or not. Maybe my manners really do suck.

“You were right before,” I say. “I forgot my manners. I should have helped you. It’s New York, and it’s not often you meet people who aren’t inherently rude. But I can see now you obviously aren’t from here, and I apologize for being an asshole… in your terms.”

She tries to hide the small smile from her mouth. “Well, that’s a roundabout way of making an apology, but I’ll take it. Anyway, I should have been paying better attention, so I guess I should apologize as well. I’m sorry I ran into you, and that now I’ve apparently made you late as well. Um, so anyway… have a good day.”

She turns to leave, and I can’t help myself. I need to get her name. I reach for her elbow, effectively stopping her as she turns back to face me.

“I said I was sorry that I was an asshole.” My eyes travel her body once more. “Not that you ran into me.”

She doesn’t respond. She just stands there looking nervous as if she might run at any moment.

“So where are you from anyway?” I ask. “I can’t place your dialect.”

Panic sweeps across her face and she shakes her head. “Uh, trust me it’s not anywhere you would know. Look I’m really sorry for interrupting your day and I’m running late myself, so I really have to go. Have a nice day, Mr. Maddox.” She pulls back and turns to walk away. But when she reaches the end of the block, she glances back over her shoulder and smiles at me.

I feel even more frustrated as I climb into the back of the waiting sedan. I lost all track of time talking to her, and I didn’t even manage to get a name. I must be really off my game today because I can’t recall that ever happening before.

***

By noon, I’m back to the confines of my office. As expected, my father was a huge dick to me. I don’t know why I even bothered showing up at all.

To top it all off, I can’t get the woman from earlier out of my head. After this morning, my sexual frustrations are at an all-time high. I need a good fuck. I scroll absent mindedly through my contacts, contemplating my options. But after a few minutes I set the phone back on the desk in frustration. There are plenty of women I could call, but none of them sound appealing. I’ve grown bored with all the high society princess types, and even worse are the up and coming gold diggers. Yes, they are all eager to please, but it always comes at a cost.

I take a sip of coffee, staring out the window at the busy streets below. My mind wanders back to her, the woman who practically crash landed at my feet. The woman who royally fucked any chance I had of salvaging my meeting. But for some reason, it doesn’t bother me.

There was something about her that sent all of the blood straight to my cock. Maybe it was that sweet voice of hers swearing at me. Yes, that had definitely done it alright. Or perhaps it was the fact that I couldn’t quite picture her reaction to me taking her roughly. Would she like it? I have no fucking clue… and more importantly, why do I give a shit?

But that damned red lipstick. When I saw those plush red lips for the first time, I had an overwhelming urge to fuck that mouth of hers. To punish her harsh words with my cock. Yes, I think I would like that very much. I just have to wonder what this woman’s price would be. Because everyone has a price. It’s something I’ve learned the hard way.

I’m known for my scandalous affairs, the gossip columns always painting me as a cold hearted bastard. But it never stops the women from falling all over themselves trying to get my attention. When women look at me, they either see one of two things, a cushy life as a trophy wife or a publicity boost for their career.

I realized a long time ago that a determined woman will do just about anything to get what she wants. I may have been naive for a little while, but that phase didn’t last long. I was thinking with my heart then, and not my dick. But now, my dick always gets what it wants. And if a woman isn’t willing to provide that, then she is of no use to me. Pure and simple. I always have the upper hand and I’m always in control.

The women I date may not like it, but they sure as hell never say otherwise. They let me whip them and spank them and fuck them brutally all while moaning my name like I’m a God. It’s all fake of course… their eagerness to submit to me. But the amount of fucks I give are exactly zero. I get off on seeing them kneel before me, doing whatever I ask. It’s the one place in my life I have control, and I won’t be relinquishing that any time soon.

It’s not that I hate women because I don’t. There’s nothing better than the feeling of a beautiful woman in your hands and in your bed. I just despise the fact that over the years I’ve come to find out they are all the same. I find their groveling attempts to please me annoying, even though it’s exactly what I want. Call me fucked up if you will, but that’s me in a nutshell.

Years of being fed to the vultures made me this way. And I can’t help it if I enjoy the monster I’ve become. In fact, I don’t just enjoy it. I revel in it. I want to be the monster that terrifies them. The sex is better when they hate me because there’s no hiding that in the moment. And once I’ve established that parameter- made them bare their souls to me under the weight of my cock inside them- then I can be done with their bullshit.

Because I tolerate bullshit from no one these days. And that’s why I was so surprised this morning by little miss attitude. She knew who I was and genuinely didn’t seem to give a fuck. She spoke to me with disdain. It usually took at least a brutal hour of fucking before it ever got to that stage. And I have to admit, she has my attention.

Although I despise my weakness for what I’m about to do, I can’t stop myself. I reach for the desk phone and hit the intercom. “Margie can you put me through to Allan Ricketts, I need a background check.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Maddox.”

A moment later the phone rings through.

“Allan Rickets speaking, what can I do for you?”

The voice on the other end of the line sounds especially annoying right now. I hate using this detective, but he’s the best, so I keep my personal opinions out of it.

“Allan, it’s Gabriel Maddox. I need you to run a background check for me, but this one might take a little more work than usual.”

I often use Allan’s services to dig up dirt on someone when I need it, namely women who are trying to blackmail me in some way. I don’t like doing it, but it’s the dirty business of the world I live in. And Allan being the sleazy man that he is, does not disappoint.

“Okay,” Allan replies curiously. “Lay it on me. What do we have?”

“I ran into a woman on the street this morning. I don’t know her name. But she works for the On The Run Courier Company. Her physical description reads as short, approximately 5’3”, brown hair, Caucasian. She was wearing ripped jean shorts and a red jacket. I need you to track down all of her info for me, anything you can get, and send it to me ASAP.”

Allan mumbles to himself as he takes down the notes, repeating everything at a snail’s fucking pace. “Okay, I think I got it.”

“One more thing,” I remember suddenly. “She seemed to be running from something, or someone maybe. She came from the Deli on the corner heading West and ran into me in front of Maddox Corp. Can you try pulling some of the security footage around that area? I’d like to know if we can find out what she was running from.”

“Sure thing,” Allan replies cheerfully. Too cheerfully. He knows he can expect a big commission on this one, and I’m sure that’s why his day just got a whole lot brighter.

Chapter Three

Victoria

Four days have passed since I met Gabriel Maddox, and I still can’t believe it. Of all the men I could have crashed into in this city, it had to be him. The twenty-seven-year old heir to the Maddox Hotel Chain. For some reason, his face is always plastered in magazines and people consider him a big celebrity. I suspect it has more to do with his good looks than anything else. I don’t actually read the articles about him because they’ve never particularly interested me. People like the Maddox family might as well live on another planet because we’ve got nothing in common.

Work has been slow this week with only a few deliveries from the courier company, and nothing from the temp pool I’m signed up with. I try to keep myself busy by taking photos around the city, but I can’t seem to focus on anything. Since Gabriel touched my hand, I’ve pathetically found myself day dreaming about him. They are harmless fantasies, of course, but I can’t understand why I’m having them. I find the man completely appalling. He is arrogant and rude and exactly the kind of guy reckless me would go for. And I’m trying to keep her under wraps. Shows how pathetic I am, a little male attention and I want to throw myself at the guy. So much for not reverting back to my old ways.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t think he was attractive. The man is sexy as hell, but the fact that he knows it definitely detracts from that. He looks at everyone as if they are a bug to be squashed beneath his polished shoe. Then again, it could have just been my angle from the ground.

He looked intimidating all the way up there although I suppose that’s what he was going for. He stood before me like the perfect male specimen. Tall and virile with a lean muscular build, filling out his impeccably tailored suit with ease. His dark brown hair had been gelled into a style that leaned just on the edge of wild. But when he started running his hand through it, things really started to get crazy. It only made me think of what his hair would look like after sex, which wasn’t a good thought to have in that moment of weakness.

But what really got me were those eyes of his. I’m such a sucker for a bad boy with nice eyes. And he had them in spades. They seemed to change before me from icy blue to stormy gray. And I couldn’t help but think that his photographs in the magazines hadn’t done him justice. Or maybe I just never really paid that much attention before. I guess I can see why all the women go gaga for him.

Still, all the good looks in the world can’t make up for his shitty attitude. I giggle as I recall the way I talked to him that day. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he just really pissed me off, but either way I think he was as surprised by my outburst as I was. He just stood there, towering over me like he was King of New York. Looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off right there in the street. Or maybe that was just my imagination because the thought is ridiculous.

I am so not his type. From the little I’ve seen in the pictures, I’ve gathered as much. But still, I can’t dismiss the fact that he had that look in his eyes. It’s something I learned a long time ago, how to tell when a man wanted you. It might not sound like rocket science, but there are a lot less obvious clues than people might realize. And when you base your entire self-worth off a man’s affections, those things become important. Of course, that was reckless me.

I’m proud to say I’ve come a long way from my self-destructive ways. It helps that my best friend Alanna is always here to guide me too. She doesn’t tolerate any of my bullshit and has no problem telling me when I’m doing something stupid. With her help, I’ve gone two years without dating anyone.

I used it as time to try to sort my own problems out, and figure out what it is I really like. And I’ve grown much stronger for it. I’m done being the desperate girl I was before. But now, my self-imposed man detox is getting a little old. Especially as I watch Alanna go on yet another date while I sit home with a tub of Ben and Jerrys.

I wish I could be more carefree and unemotional with men like Alanna is. She knows how to have fun without getting attached. She’s like one of those gypsy free spirited types who can go on a couple of dates with a guy, have a good time and leave without regret or feelings getting in her way. Of course, that’s the way she has to live because of our lifestyle, but Alanna doesn’t seem to mind.

I’m the total opposite. I’m usually shy and awkward around men and have a tendency to be too passive. Alanna says I’m a classic people pleaser. Unless I’m provoked, and then I’m a force to be reckoned with. My father always used to tell me I inherited a fiery Italian temper from my mother, and I suppose it’s true.

For as long as I can remember, my relationships have been emotional train wrecks. I had a somewhat unsettling fascination for bad boys. I suppose it has something to do with my past, but I don’t really want to analyze why. I always let myself get emotionally invested too fast, even when I know it’s a recipe for disaster. Alanna often jokes that I’m a masochist, but I wonder to an extent if that might be true.

I set my ice cream container on the coffee table and ease back onto the couch, wanting to rest my eyes for just a few moments. I’m surprised how tired I am.

The last thing I remember is drifting off into a blissful dream of Gabriel touching my hand softly like he did the other day.

And then I’m awoken by soft laughter above me. I half open my eyes to see Alanna hovering over me, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her long brown hair is casually braided over her shoulder, her green eyes bright with amusement.

She looks happier than I’ve seen her in a long time, and I wonder if it’s New York, or something else. She may look like your average twenty-six-year old, but she is far from it. Behind the relaxed and happy face she shows the world, Alanna’s scars run deep. Though she’s come a long way, it’s always refreshing to see her looking so… alive. A vast difference from the first time I ever met her.

“What’s so funny?” I cover my eyes to block out the light.

She just giggles and shakes her head. “I think the better question is what exactly were you dreaming about?”

I sit up on the couch to make room for Alanna, my face flushing with embarrassment. “Oh God, what was I saying?”

“Well, I only caught the last few bits and pieces, but something along the lines of how beautiful you think he is. So tell me…” She flutters her eyelashes dramatically. “Is this another dream about Gabriel, the sex God extraordinaire?”

“Oh, geez.” I curl my knees into my chest. “I was dreaming about him again. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s been way too long.”

Alanna smiles playfully. “I find it rather amusing actually, and so much better than watching you have your usual nightmares. This is nice for a change. I think it’s a sign… there’s only one way for you to get it out of your system.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“You should go straight to that big fancy building of his, storm into his office, and fuck him relentlessly right on his desk.”

“Jesus, Alanna, you can be so crude sometimes.” I laugh. “What happened to you looking out for me huh?”

“I am looking out for you.” She winks. “You’ve come a long way. And I think this is a good time to ease yourself back into it. Just remember to keep it casual.”

“I’m not even his type,” I protest. “And I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just need to get out of this apartment because I’m going crazy with boredom. I was hoping tomorrow night my super popular BFF might be able to actually book me into her schedule for some girl time.”

“Of course my darling, anything for you.” Alanna grins. “So what part of town shall we tear up tomorrow?”

“I’ll leave that up to you, you always know where all the hot guys hang out.” I stand up and stretch my tired muscles. “But for now I’m dragging my ass back to bed, so I can get to the courier office first thing tomorrow.”

“Always so motivated.” Alanna chuckles. “Go to bed and get some rest because you’re going to need it for tomorrow night.”

I plod down the hall to my room, collapsing onto the single mattress on the floor and curling into the blankets around me.

***

The next morning I’m woken by the annoying sound of my cell phone. I reach to the nightstand beside me, knocking some of the contents to the floor as I fumble for it in the dark. I check the screen and frown when I realize it’s only six-thirty.

“Hello?” I whisper groggily.

“Victoria!” Marvin’s voice booms through the speaker. “Where the hell have you been? I tried calling you five times last night, you never got back to me.”

I roll my eyes at my overly dramatic boss from the courier service. “Jesus, Marvin do you even know what time it is? You never call me this early. I fell asleep early last night and I must not have heard you call.”

“Well, I don’t care what you were doing last night, all I care about is that you’re here at 7:30 sharp. I have an important delivery I need you to make this morning.”

“Alright fine, 7:30 got it. See you then.”

I shut the phone and crawl out of bed. It’s unusual for Marvin to call so early, and even stranger that he demand I make a delivery. We have about ten couriers fighting for work, so I don’t really get it. I wonder what could possibly be so important.

I make my way to the bathroom and go through the motions of having a shower and brushing my teeth while still half asleep. I apply a few dabs of mascara and my usual Red lipstick- the small amount of makeup I do wear on a daily basis. By the time I’ve dried my long hair and run my fingers through it to tame my wild curls, I realize I have five minutes before I have to leave.

I dart back to my room, throwing on a pair of skillfully shredded leggings, my Cherry Red Doc Marten boots, and matching red leather jacket. This is one of my usual work outfits because my boss doesn’t care what I wear, so long as I get the parcel there on time. I developed my own sort of style when I finally got away from Eleanore, and its one thing I refuse to bend on.

Even though I used to worry that my clothing would make me stand out, I came to realize that people actually look at me less. Nobody wants to make eye contact with the weird grunge style girl, and that suits me just fine.

My clothing is a mix of comfortable yet practical at the same time. I like to have lightweight clothing while I do deliveries since I’m usually running all over the city. I grab my keys, my iPod, and my messenger bag and rush out the door.

When I arrive at the courier office exactly one minute ahead of schedule, my boss still manages to shoot me an exasperated look. He reaches under the desk and pulls out a parcel before handing it over to me. “Here’s the address, now you need to get going right away to make sure you get there on time.”

I take a look at the address and a sudden spark of familiarity shoots through me. When I glance at the name on the top, I shove the parcel back towards my boss like its poison. “Nuh- uh, I’m not doing it, you’ll need to find someone else.” I cross my arms stubbornly and wait for the blowback.

Marvin’s face twists pleadingly. “You have to do it, Victoria, there is no one else. This client paid a large sum of money for this service, and you get seventy percent of the cut. He was very specific about that. And besides he asked for you personally. It has to be you or else the deal is off.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

Why the hell would he ask for me? The part of me that wants to be flattered is largely overshadowed by my annoyance. I planned on keeping him a part of my fantasy world, not the real one.

“I’m not a prostitute Marvin, he can’t order me specifically. This is a courier service, how could you even agree to that?”

Marvin shakes his head seriously at my insinuation. “Look, Victoria, it’s not all that unusual with high profile clients to ask for someone specific. They only trust certain people to get the job done and I guess you were it. Trust me I tried to get him to let me send someone else because you haven’t even been here long enough to do a job like this one. With this kind of commission, it’s ludicrous really, but he insisted. And I had no choice but to accept. If you don’t do this job it could ruin my business reputation. You have no idea how powerful that family’s word is.”

I roll my eyes and snatch back the parcel. “Fine Marvin, I’ll do it. Only because I need this job and I don’t want this prick ruining your business over me. But you owe me big time!” I turn on my heel and stomp out the door. As it closes I hear Marvin yell a thank you behind me in his New Jersey accent.

Chapter Four

Victoria

I linger in front of the impressive Maddox Corp building with exactly five minutes to spare. I want to spite this infuriating man and bring his documents two minutes late just to waste his time. But against my better judgment, and out of desperation for one of the only jobs I’ve got here, I step inside.

The inside of the building is all glass and marble, furnished with modern designs. People are milling about in expensive business attire, and I feel totally out of place. I’m coming to regret my decision to feel uninhibited in my clothing choices this morning, especially now that I have to face Gabriel. He’s probably going to think I dressed like this to lure him in. The thought never even occurred to me before, but now it’s consuming me.

Maybe it’s the fact I have no idea what his reasons for doing this are. There is no way he could be interested in me. And how the hell did he know where I worked? That’s a little freaky. But it’s too late to turn back now, so with a deep breath I make my way to the front desk to check in. The woman sitting behind it is dressed to perfection with a flawless black skirt suit and not a hair out of place in her tidy bun. I roll my eyes as I walk away from the desk with my visitor’s pass in hand, making my way to the elevators.

After a long two minute wait, I crowd into one of the lifts with eight others. It looks like I’m going to be late after all. After stopping at several floors, and more people coming and going, I finally make it to the top of the building. I am precisely five minutes late when I step out the doors and am confronted by one Gabriel Maddox with a scowl on his face.

“You’re late,” he growls, crossing his arms across his broad chest. When I look up into his eyes it’s as if I’m staring into a stormy ocean of blue. I wasn’t able to discern their exact coloring the other day, but today they are unmistakable. He definitely has that angry tough guy thing going for him.

“Oops, sorry,” I smirk unapologetically. This man is way too easy to rile up, and if anyone should be pissy here, it should definitely be me.

Gabriel grabs my arm and leads me past his secretary, who makes sure to give my clothing ensemble a disapproving glance. He stomps down a short hallway and flings open the door to his office. I yank my arm free of him as he motions for me to sit down in the chair opposite his desk. I do as I’m asked, because quite frankly the look on his face tells me he is not to be trifled with right now. I try to look unimpressed at the sight of the massive office around me and the view of the city beneath, but I’m not sure if I’m succeeding. Because it is impressive.

I expect him to walk around the desk and sit in his office chair, but he surprises me by positioning himself in front of me and sitting on the edge of the desk. He leans forward until his face is a mere few inches from mine. His jaw is clenched tight and I can’t help but stare at the light stubble along the edges, wondering if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I don’t like being made to wait,” he snaps, his minty breath skating over my skin.

“That’s funny,” I retort. “Because I don’t like being woken up at 6:30 am to do your personal bidding.”

At this point, I’m too fired up to care about my damn job. I refuse to bend on this just to please this man. His ego is infuriating. I don’t care how hot he is, I’m not taking this bullshit from anyone. Once again, he appears to be stunned into silence by my response. And I’m certain by the look on his face that it’s something he’s not accustomed to.

His eyes travel the length of my body, a feral gleam taking over them. And that’s when I realize he is blatantly checking me out. I feel the muscles deep within my belly clenching at the thought. This glorious, angry man in front of me actually wants me. He looks animalistic, wild with desire. I briefly entertain the thought of what he would be like in bed. I imagine he’d like the rough angry kind of sex since I can’t see him being the sensitive type.

Arrogant or not, the man is too fucking beautiful for words. His dark brown hair is clean cut and perfectly styled to make his features stand out. Like his eyes. The ones that swing from gray to blue in an instant. Today, and at this moment, they are crystal blue. He’s wearing black suit pants, a black vest, and a crisp white shirt underneath. His sleeves are rolled up and as he leans in closer, I can see the muscles flexing across his arms. Yeah, he definitely works out.

I know I should pull back, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of backing down. The sexual tension between us is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I’m not sure why. This is so not my type of guy. Angry, stomping around all the time, arrogant… okay, maybe he is sort of my type I guess. I mean my track record with men isn’t the best.

His face relaxes as he leans closer, hovering an inch from my lips. I freeze and inhale slow, shallow breaths as I try to get a grip. A small part of me is begging for him to kiss me. I don’t know why since not even a moment ago I was so angry with him and wanted nothing more than to leave. He closes his eyes and draws in a long breath.

“God you smell amazing,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips as he kisses it. My pulse goes frantic at the slight touch. Oh, he’s good alright. I have to give him that. I’m sure he’s probably done this a thousand times. “What perfume is that?”

“Um,” I squeak. “It’s actually sunscreen. Coconut.”

“Sunscreen?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah, you know… gotta’ protect the skin and all that jazz.” God, what am I even talking about?

“Hmm…”

He reaches his hand down to trail a finger along the flesh that peeks through my ripped leggings. Everything inside of me twists with desire.

“You look so fucking sexy in these,” he rasps. “So wild and rebellious. And don’t even get me started on those red boots. What I would do to you with those on.”

Did he really just say that, or am I imagining things? I can’t move, or speak. I’m paralyzed by what he’s doing to me with just his words.

He leans forward to whisper into the shell of my ear. “I want you, Victoria. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you ran into me on the street the other day.”

I pull back a little, daring to look into his eyes. They are full of hunger, and I can only hope my own eyes aren’t betraying my desire too. He places both of his large hands on my knees, gripping them possessively as he takes back the space between us.

“Tell me you want me too.”

I want to, oh God do I want to. Every fiber of my being is screaming out for him. I want to tell him to take me right here, right now. But in the back of my mind, my logical self is reminding me he does this all the time. This is what he’s famous for. He probably has some strange preoccupation with slumming it with the average gals every once in a while.

And I know that if I’m having this hard of a time refusing him now, I would never be able to refuse him in the future. I’ve come too far from allowing myself to be used by my last boyfriend, if you could even call him that, and I won’t go back now. I don’t know much about Gabriel Maddox, but from what I do know he’s a serial womanizer. And I need another heart break like I need a bullet to the head.

Somehow I manage to compose myself enough to pull away from him as I look into his eyes.

“I um… I can’t do this,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, but you don’t even know me.”

I have no idea why I’m apologizing, but it just slips out. I’m always apologizing when I shouldn’t. That’s the people pleaser in me.

He pulls back abruptly as I rise on legs that feel like Jello. His face is suddenly impassive, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Just like that he’s able to hide his emotions, and in that moment I know I’ve made the right choice. He runs his hand back through his hair and exhales an exasperated sigh.

“So let me get to know you then, Victoria,” he states simply, as though that should be the solution to my argument.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.” I turn to go. I don’t even sound convincing to myself, so I don’t know how I expect him to accept my response. I feel like he knows too much already, information I haven’t even given him… my name, my work, who knows what else. Then realization sinks in. I whip around, trying to hide the panic in my voice. “How did you find me?”

He smiles at my sudden change of tack and then looks at me quizzically for a moment before answering. “It wasn’t that difficult, Victoria. The name of the company you work for was on the parcels you dropped the other day. I called them and gave your physical description, requesting you personally. Your boss freely gave me your first name. I see no harm in that, do you?”

I furrow my brows, not quite believing how stupid I had been. I make a mental note to be more careful with my information from now on. I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I turn on my heel and continue for the door. Just as I reach for the handle he speaks again, stopping me in my tracks.

“Tell me, Victoria, who is it that you’re running from?”

I can’t bear to face him, because I’m not sure where this is going, and I don’t have a very good poker face. “Excuse me?”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence by feigning ignorance,” he growls.

Suddenly he’s behind me, whipping me around to face him. He keeps hold of my shoulders as he searches the depths of my eyes for answers. And for some reason, I feel like he can see right through me. I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. His cologne wafts up as I do, and I go a little weaker in the knees. He smells exotic. Delicious. Hints of Bergamot and Sandalwood. Earthy. Woody. Spicy. I savor the smell, allowing it to linger on me before I speak again. This is how I will remember him.

I shake my head, trying to hold onto my wavering resolution. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper. How the hell does this man know so much about me?

He reaches down and pulls a loose strand of hair from my face, searching my eyes once more. “The other day, when I met you, you were clearly running from someone or something. You looked panicked. I should have asked you about it then, and I apologize that I didn’t.”

I pause, fantasizing for a moment that I could actually tell him. Unload all of my secrets to someone other than Alanna. That he would take me in his arms and comfort me and tell me everything is going to be okay. That’s what I want more than anything, but I know it’s unrealistic and foolish and not even remotely a possibility. So I muster all the conviction I can find to speak. “I was running late. That’s all, Gabriel. All of these parcels have deadlines, and I was in a hurry to get them delivered on time. Now I’m sorry, but I really have to go.”

He releases me regretfully as I turn to leave. “This conversation isn’t over,” he calls after me. “Not by a long shot.”

And I roll my eyes because somehow I know it’s true.

Chapter Five

Gabriel

Sitting in my home office, I muddle through the little information Allan Ricketts gave me on Victoria for the thousandth time. After going through the background check on this mystery woman, my curiosity still hasn’t been satisfied. Allan wasn’t able to find much since she’s apparently using a fake name and only works cash in hand jobs. She has no social media accounts, no internet references, nothing.

After this morning’s rejection, I’m all out of ideas, and I feel like I’m going crazy. I need to be inside of her… at least once.

I’ve never had to throw myself at a woman before. Hell, they practically line up, begging me to take them to bed. So why does it have to be her? There is just something off about her and I can’t figure out what it is. Allan showed me the surveillance video and it doesn’t make any sense. She was looking across the street at another woman as if she had seen a ghost. And then she ran. But the other woman didn’t seem to recognize her or even care. The mystery surrounding her only intensifies my desire to see her again. For some strange reason, I find myself worrying about her. It’s not an emotion I particularly like because it reminds me of Parker.

I know I should just cut my losses and run. There’s always someone willing to do what I want. But…. they won’t be her. I want to see her bound and trembling before me while I fuck her senseless. Covering her in my come, marking her as mine… mine? Where the fuck did that come from? No, not mine. I will fuck her, but only once. And then I can put this shit behind me.

***

Victoria

It’s Wednesday morning, and after yesterday’s delivery, I’m relieved to see the Temp office calling me finally. Hopefully, they’ll have a project to keep me distracted for a couple days and keep my mind off Gabriel. That man has bad idea written all over him. And yet I can’t stop thinking about him anyways. I roll my eyes at my naivety as I pick up the phone.

“Victoria, hi it’s Julie from the temp pool. Hey listen, I don’t know what your plans are for the rest of the week, but we just got a high priority request for an administration assistant. Can you do it?”

“Definitely!” I reply a little too enthusiastically.

“Okay, great. I will email you the details. They need someone to start this morning at nine. Is that going to be alright?”

“No problem.”

I hang up the phone and hug myself. This is exactly what I need. I’ve been signed up with the temp pool since I moved here but hardly ever get assignments. It’s a smaller business, and luckily they let me work as an independent contractor so I’m able to keep my tracks covered.

As I open my closet, I pull out the only business like clothes I have, and the only clothing I actually took the time to hang up. I lay them on the bed and sort through them carefully. I end up choosing a black sleeveless blouse with cherries on it, along with a red pencil skirt.

Then I scramble to my lingerie selection to find what I like to call my secret weapon. I don’t know why but I’ve always had an affinity for racy lingerie. If it’s black and lacy, chances are I own it. There’s something about wearing these things beneath my normal clothing that makes me feel confident like I can take on the world. I end up choosing a garter belt and sheer black nylons along with my thong and demi-bra.

I pull my hair up into a neat bun which is by no means an easy feat. After putting on my makeup, I rustle through my nightstand for my sleek black reading glasses. I hate wearing them because it makes me feel like a librarian, but clear vision is a necessity for a job like this. I complete my outfit with some black Mary Jane pumps and a black cardigan before heading out the door.

As I emerge from the subway, studying the address intently, I get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I realize this building is eerily close to Maddox Corp. My first instinct is that Gabriel had something to do with this, but then I shake it off as ridiculous. It’s not the same address, it’s just nearby. As I draw closer, my heart begins to beat a little faster in my chest. And then I freeze. The building isn’t just close. It’s directly across from Maddox Corp.

Why is this happening? What could the universe possibly be trying to tell me by running into him repeatedly? Something is just not right about this. It’s too weird. But, I’ve already accepted the job, and if I back out now the temp pool will never call me again. I take a deep breath and somehow persuade my feet into action once more.

Once inside, I approach the front desk nervously, giving the secretary my details. She types my name into the computer and then gives me a strange look. I fidget with my hair, checking for strays. Why is she looking at me like that?

“Okay, Miss Kelly,” she says. “You need to go to the nineteenth floor. They are doing some construction up there right now, so I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess. But just walk down the hallway and you’ll see the door labeled Phillip Berger. You can go right in. Mr. Berger isn’t here this week, so it will just be you. Feel free to make use of his office to suit your needs. There will be instructions awaiting you on his desk.”

“Okay, thank you,” I mumble as I step away, feeling relieved to be away from her intense scrutiny. I walk across the shiny black floor to join the throngs of people waiting for elevators. When I’m able to squeeze into one of the lifts, I wait nervously as it climbs to the nineteenth floor.

When I step out, there are tarps and dust and tools everywhere. And it’s loud… really loud. The secretary wasn’t kidding when she said this place was under construction. Some of the laborers stop to give me appreciative glances, and I scurry down the hall quickly. I feel like a piece of meat being dangled in front of a lion’s den.

I open the large wooden door with Phillip Berger’s name imprinted on it. It’s a nice office, much nicer than I’ve ever worked in before. It’s large with an open floor, tall glass windows overlooking the city, and a grand oak desk in the center. Off to the side is a black leather couch, and I can’t help but feel a small glimmer of excitement when I see the collection of books next to it. I walk to the wall and pull out a leather bound copy of Catcher in the Rye. It smells deliciously old and intoxicating as I open it. One day, I hope to own some books like this.

My happiness continues at seeing that the office has its own private restroom. That means not having to venture through the sea of over appreciative construction workers outside to use the bathroom.

I walk behind the desk and set down my purse, sinking into the plush leather chair. I could totally get used to this. I scoop up the typed instructions from the desk, reading them carefully. It seems pretty straightforward. Responding to mail, booking meetings for Mr. Berger’s return, and answering the phone. I idly wonder how much time this will actually take up because it doesn’t seem like much.

I boot up the computer in front of me, carefully typing in the password the secretary gave me. After I log into Mr. Berger’s email account, I go to work responding to the awaiting emails. By the time I glance up at the clock, it’s almost noon. I’ve already managed to respond to all the emails, book the requested meetings, and the phone hasn’t rang once. I sink at the thought of how mind-numbingly boring the rest of this day is going to be.

A knock at the door startles me. Ugh, I really hope that isn’t one of the guys from outside. Putting on my best professional tone, I smile.

“Come in, please.”

I sit up straight in the chair, not knowing what to expect. Then the door swings open, and all the color drains from my face. Gabriel Maddox is strolling into the office. Of course, it’s Gabriel. Why wouldn’t it be?

He has a heart-stopping smile on his face, no doubt in response to my gaping mouth. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit, one that somehow manages to make him look larger than I thought. He looks good. Better than I remember, but somehow I know I was trying to suppress that little detail. He moves lithely across the room, sitting down gracefully on the black leather sofa. Even the way he moves is sexy. A vision of him moving like that in bed flashes through my mind quickly before I make it disappear. I stand up and walk around the desk, clearing my throat in a desperate attempt to show my annoyance.

“I should have known this had your name written all over it,” I say dryly.

His eyes flit appreciatively over my body. He has that look again. The one that could literally melt me with its intensity.

“You look positively sinful in that dress, Victoria,” he murmurs huskily. “And don’t even get me started on what those glasses are doing to me.”

I feel my face flush. How can he talk to me like this? He is so blunt. Obviously, he’s a man who is used to getting what he wants. Well, not this time.

I cross my arms and give him a disinterested glance. “What do you want, Gabriel? Are you just going to keep hiring me for pointless projects to satisfy your bizarre infatuation with me?” I choke on the words as they come out of my mouth. I did not mean for them to sound so…. arrogant.

He laughs at my candor. “Why do you find it odd that I should be infatuated with you, Victoria?”

“Because…” I place my hands firmly on my hips. “I’m sure you have all sorts of women falling at your feet. It’s quite obvious to me that you’ve never heard the word no in your life. So why me? Is it the thrill of the chase? Because I can tell you that no matter what, it’s still only going to end one way.”

“And what way is that, Victoria?” he replies salaciously. “With me inside you?”

“Um,” I gulp. Yes, please. I shake my head. What the hell am I doing? Why does his talking to me that way turn me on? I need to get him out of here, quick.

“You know, for such a beautiful woman, you seem to have no idea of your effect on men.”

I ignore his last comment, trying to hold my ground. “I could just quit.”

“And disappoint Mr. Berger?” he asks playfully. “How do you even know that I had anything to do with this job? Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that you were hired to work here, directly across from my building. And perhaps it was just a coincidence that my office happens to be one floor up from this one, and I just happened to notice you.”

I gasp as I spin around and look up. Oh my God. I can see his office from here. Why didn’t I see it before? That means he could see me this morning… in all of my book sniffing glory and everything.

“That is so…”

“Convenient?” he lifts his brow.

“I was thinking more along the lines of creepy.” I laugh jokingly.

His mouth draws into a hard line as he stands up and stalks across the room. He stops within an inch of my body, the heat radiating from him nearly melting my core. Good God this man can be intimidating. But I refuse to back down. I can do this. I can totally do this.

“I want you, Victoria,” he says brusquely. “Against my own will. So just tell me what I have to do to make it happen, then we can stop all these games.”

Against his own will? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I feel a shiver run down my spine as he leans in closer, his hot breath caressing my skin. I want him too. But I can’t. This is a bad idea, all around. I have to stay strong. I close my eyes and catch the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Sweet and spicy. God the man smells even better than I remember.

“I… I.. Gabriel, it’s just,” I try to formulate a sentence. But the heady scent of his cologne and his close proximity are making it impossible to think.

And then abruptly he steps back, much to my disappointment. I was kind of enjoying our little standoff.

He runs an exasperated hand through his hair and sighs. His face is unreadable, but it appears as though he has changed his mind.

“Perhaps you are right, Victoria,” he says. “You should really stay away from me, I wouldn’t be good for you.”

He turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him. My shoulders slump and I don’t know why, but I feel a sharp stab of pain at his words. Isn’t this what I wanted? Exactly what I said I wanted? So why does it feel as though all my dreams have been ripped away?

I shake my head and sit back down at my desk. For the rest of the afternoon, I stare blankly at the computer screen, willing the email to register something, anything to distract me for a moment. But it never does. Every once in a while I glance back over my shoulder and peek into Gabriel’s office across the street. It’s empty and remains that way even when I leave at five.

Chapter Six

Victoria

The next morning, I ponder as to whether I should even go back to this job. It isn’t as if I need the money that badly. I have a lot saved up so far, so what’s one job? Still, I can’t shake yesterday’s events, and a small part of me wants to see Gabriel again. Even if it is from the safe confines of my office window.

I’m not feeling nearly as confident today, so I throw on a simple Navy blue skirt, Nautical striped shirt, and yellow cardigan. I pair it with some brown leather flats and a matching belt. I tame my hair into a bun, though not nearly as neat as the day before, and put on some makeup. I’m out the door by eight sharp.

After stepping out of the elevator, I’m greeted once again by the sea of construction workers. Even they don’t find me nearly as appealing today it seems. I walk down the hall, opening up Mr. Berger’s lonely office once more. As I walk towards the desk, my heart skips a beat as I glance out the window and see Gabriel sitting in his office. He’s on the phone, apparently engrossed in conversation. I want him to look up, to notice me, but he doesn’t.

Throughout the afternoon, I steal glances at him, but he never looks my way. And then at noon, a tall beautiful blonde woman appears in his office. She sits on his desk, laughing flirtatiously and touching his arm at every opportunity. She is practically throwing herself at him, and my heart sinks. Now that is probably more his type.

Well, this is what you wanted, I chide myself.

This should be a blessing in disguise. I am so not even close to being in his league. He was only in it for the sex, anyway. As soon as he fucked me, it would have been all over. But why should it matter? It’s not like I’m looking for a relationship anyway. And I will never look like tall, blonde legs Mcgee over there.

That evening on the way home, I stop at the supermarket and grab a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Half Baked. All I want to do is sit on the couch, eat junk food, and watch Gilmore Girls with Alanna. But as per usual, she’s already on her way to another date when I get home.

After I eat my ice cream and drink half a bottle of wine, which incidentally turns out to be a horrid combination, I take a long hot shower. I think of Gabriel, and it makes me angry. Why can’t I get him out of my head? I want him to want me again. But why? It can’t lead anywhere. I try to convince myself for a moment that I can just do casual with him. It’s been two years, surely I’ve learned my lesson by now. I know it’s a big fat lie, but it’s a nice thought while it lasts.

I climb into bed a little after eight, feeling even more pathetic that I’m going to sleep so early.

***

The next morning I wake even angrier. I dreamt of him all night. Damn this man for getting under my skin. At the risk of looking like a complete idiot, I need to prove a point. I’m pretty sure this is the reckless side of me coming out again, but I don’t give a damn. I spend extra time tousling my hair into perfect curls before pinning it up loosely. I do my eyes up in a smoky shadow and put on extra red lipstick. And then I slither into a silky black lace pencil dress that borders on just inappropriate enough to possibly get fired.

I slip into my pink leopard print stilettos and glance at myself satisfactorily in the mirror. Hell, what does it matter what I wear anyway? I’m alone on my floor with the exception of the construction workers.

I go to work with renewed determination. As I walk down the long hall of the nineteenth floor, the men stop to stare at me, unlike yesterday. It gives me a bit of my confidence back. When I enter the office, I see Gabriel across the way, sitting at his desk.

He seems engrossed in some paperwork and I’m not sure if he’s seen me until his head shoots up. A small smile of satisfaction creeps across my face. I make a show of walking around the desk, pulling the loose pins from my hair and

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