In His World (For His Pleasure, Book 28)

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© 2016 by Kelly Favor

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C
hloe was staring
into the eyes of the highest paid athlete in the world.

And she’d just called him an asshole.

Brody Hawk, the man she’d been reading about in Sports Illustrated, was sitting right next to her, watching her with a bemused, arrogant expression on his gorgeous face.

Up close, he was still just as untouchable and unreal as he’d been in the pages of her magazine.

His spiky hair was just as perfect.

He wore a dapper beige suit and vest, with a golden tie that seemed to gleam like it was made of real gold.

And who knew, maybe it even was.

Even in his suit, Brody’s muscles bulged through the material, and his broad shoulders and chiseled chest tapered down to a narrow waist.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” Brody asked. He was so clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Chloe snapped the magazine shut, wanting to disappear from the room entirely. The man had seen her ogling his pictures and now he was sitting here, putting her under the microscope just to torture her.

“I…I…”

Brody laughed. “It’s a simple question. What’s your name?”

“Chloe.”

“And do you always insult people when they’re making polite conversation, Chloe?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “You weren’t making
polite
conversation.”

“That’s exactly what I was doing.”

She felt sweat break out on her forehead.

His face…it was
too good-looking
.

It was almost like staring down at the ground from the top of the Empire State Building. Everything seemed to just drop away, and she felt completely unglued.

She couldn’t stop staring at him. At his eyes, the cheekbones, the perfectly formed forehead and the strong jaw—everything so cute and smooth and sexy, with just the right amount of ruggedness to offset what might otherwise be the face of a “pretty boy.”

But Brody Hawk was no pretty boy.

He was the perfect man.

A body that wouldn’t quit, and now that she was sitting next to him, she could feel his tremendous physical magnetism, his sexual energy as potent and obvious as his arrogance and confidence.

Those eyes of his studied her with the same ruthless examination he made of his enemies in the ring. Those eyes were calm and still and relentless, pressuring her to crumble and beg his forgiveness.

“I shouldn’t have called you an asshole,” she murmured.

“You shouldn’t have,” he agreed, grinning. “Then again, I’ve been called a lot worse, so it’s nothing new to me.”

“I didn’t realize…I didn’t know I was talking to
you
when I said it.”

“And if you had?” he asked, leaning slightly towards her.

Now she could smell him—the scent of his expensive cologne, and the new suit he was wearing, but also his skin. She could see his cherry red lips as if they were in ultra high definition, and there was a slight cut on his lower lip—the only visible sign of what he actually did to make all that money he was constantly bragging about in the magazine article.

“If I had known…“

She pictured herself suddenly—on her knees in some dark room, maybe a supply closet in this building, filling her mouth with Brody Hawk’s stiff cock, sucking him dry.

Chloe shook her head and blinked.

“If you had known, then what?” Brody chuckled, as if he knew exactly what she’d been imagining in that moment.

But there was no time to answer, because the receptionist called out to Brody and said that Red Jameson was ready to see him now.

Brody Hawk stood up, brushed his trousers and smoothed his vest, pulling it down so that his suit rode perfectly on his amazing body. “I guess we’ll never know,” he sighed, and then he turned and left the waiting room.

Chloe let out a deep breath, exhausted as if she’d just gone twelve rounds with the champ.

She felt tired, sweaty, humiliated and confused.

But worse still…she felt extremely turned on.

Her body was thrumming with energy, and it was all concentrated between her thighs. She was wet.

Obscenely wet.

The image of Brody Hawk slipping himself into her mouth in that dark supply closet returned, even more vivid than before.

“Miss Reed?” came the voice of the gorgeous receptionist.

“Yes?” Chloe snapped out of her fantasy.

“I do apologize. Mister Jameson will be with you as soon as he finishes with Mister Hawk. It shouldn’t be long.”

“Oh, of course.” Chloe waved her hand and opened the magazine again, forgetting that it was the same magazine.

Brody’s handsome face and devilish grin greeted her, and she immediately slapped the pages shut once more.

Than she put the magazine back on the table, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

Shit.

Did that just happen?

Did I really just have a run-in with THE Brody Hawk?

Best boxer on the planet…best athlete alive today. Untouchable. Unfathomable.

It didn’t even seem real.

She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and then got out her pocket mirror and tried to touch up her makeup.

As she was still trying to fix the smudges the sweat had caused, Brody Hawk strutted back into the waiting room.

Chloe froze, one hand in mid air, the pocket mirror open in her other hand, her mouth slightly agape.

The trim, muscular athlete didn’t stop, although she thought he was going to.

But as he walked by, Chloe couldn’t help herself. She turned her head, unable to keep her eyes off him.

He winked at her, and her heart seemed to stop beating temporarily.

She could hardly breathe.

And then he was gone, and the room was now just as it had been before.

Empty. Cold.

It was as though all the light and energy had been sucked out of the place when Brody Hawk had exited the room.

Chloe sat there, stunned, wondering why she felt such a sense of loss and shame and humiliation over nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing, was it?

If you’d been perfect—if you hadn’t been so curvy, so pouty, so completely undesirable then maybe…

Maybe what?

Maybe Brody Hawk would’ve stooped so low as to let you blow him in a supply closet?

Is that really what you want?

No.

But maybe—maybe just once. If it was a man like him, a man with that kind of power and animal magnetism…

You don’t want that, Chloe. And even if you did want it, you can’t handle it. Can’t handle a man like that on your best day.

You’ve had sex exactly twice, freshman year of college. Obviously you weren’t the best at it, because Chad broke up with you afterwards.

And other than a few pathetic make out sessions with random guys at parties, you never really got any more experience afterward. Face it. You’ll be lucky not to end up alone—so maybe you should set your sights on a more realistic option.

And more realistic would be any guy other than Brody Hawk—Brody Hawk, the most wanted, most handsome, most famous, most talented and wealthy athlete on the planet.

At that moment when she was lost in her own thoughts, her own confusion and embarrassment—a voice called her name.

She looked up to find a strange man in a suit approaching her. He was handsome, tall and dark-haired, like Don Draper from Mad Men come to life. And then she realized it was Red Jameson—
the
Red Jameson—coming toward her with his hand out. “Chloe Reed?” he asked, giving her a tight smile as she reflexively shook hands with him.

“Yes,” she said, getting ready to stand up.

“No, please—I’ll sit,” the handsome CEO told her, and then he sat down right next to her. “I’m Red Jameson.”

“I know,” she replied, her face flushing. “I’m a little flustered.”

“I can imagine.” He sighed. “The reason I came out here to talk to you, is that I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help.”

“You’re not…” she shook her head, tilting it slightly as she looked at him. “I’m confused.”

“I was told that you did a very, very nice thing for some good friends of mine. You returned a valuable piece of property to them. Is that correct?”

She nodded. “Yes. That’s true.”

“And there’s nothing I’d rather do than help you,” Red told her. “The thing is, our biggest client just told me that you insulted him in the waiting room. And he made it pretty clear that he wouldn’t feel comfortable working with any firm that hired you on.”

Chloe swallowed and found the world in front of her eyes began swimming.

Am I going to faint right now?

Maybe.

And maybe that would be preferable to having to look this man in the eye as he tells me how worthless I am
.

“Okay,” she managed to say, standing up. “I should…I should go.” She was unsteady on her feet.

Red stood with her. “I wish it could be otherwise,” he said. “Unfortunately, my hands are tied. This man is far too valuable a client for me to jeopardize my business with him. Whatever happened out here, it’s none of my business—but I have to ask you to leave now.”

“Of course,” Chloe said.

There was no point in protesting Red Jameson’s rejection of her. The thing was, he happened to be correct. She
had
insulted Brody Hawk. She’d called him an asshole, and a jerk. Sure, he’d been acting like a jerk—but she’d behaved unprofessionally too. And now she’d just lost a big opportunity.

A pattern was forming, wasn’t it?

Another screw up.
Another smack down, and now she felt about two inches tall.

She left the office, humiliated to realize that Grace Knowles was likely going to find out about this incident. And what would she think?

Probably, she’ll realize that you were someone she didn’t know at all, and distance herself as politely as possible. You’re not going to hear from Grace Knowles ever again.

And you can’t blame her either, can you?

Grace walked out of the building and the sunshine hit her face, nearly blinding her. It seemed like the day should have been dark, overcast—somehow the weather should have been cooperating with her mood.

But no, it was a gorgeous, sunny day in Manhattan. Beautiful people were all around her. This was a city that was meant for beautiful people and beautiful things.

Not people like her.

She’d been hoping and praying that this interview with Red Jameson would go well and she could have a job offer in hand, so as to not have to ever return to her hotel and face those vipers who’d been employing her up until now.

Especially Amy.

Even picturing her boss’s face made Chloe queasy.

Now, however, Chloe had been left with no choice. She had to at least try and salvage her job at the hotel, even if it meant begging and scraping.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a great city, a great job and the start of her wonderful adult life?

The city was loud and vibrant, and there were billboards boldly proclaiming that here, anything was possible.

Not long ago, Chloe had believed the hype.

She’d come to Manhattan expecting that it would be fast-paced, challenging, breathtaking. And it was all of those things, but it was also brutal and cynical and people charged past you and sometimes over you, too.

Maybe I’m not cut out for this life.

Just as she was standing there, lost in thought, lost in her own misery and confusion, someone spoke to her. Someone called her name.

“Chloe,” the strangely familiar voice said.

She looked up to find Brody Hawk standing beside a bright yellow sports car parked near the building.

People were staring at him with mouths open as they walked past, some slowing down to yell encouragement at him.

A few women—gorgeous women—stared openly at him, suggestively smiling from not far away. He could have had any one of them just by snapping his fingers.

But instead he was staring directly at Chloe, calling her by name as he leaned against his sports car and folded his arms.

“Thanks a lot for what you said to Red Jameson,” she said, using the only weapon she had—anger—to combat the feelings of terror that Brody Hawk’s presence created inside her.

“You’re welcome,” he said, chuckling, as she approached.

“I was being sarcastic,” she replied.

“Come here, Chloe.” He motioned with three fingers, beckoning, like she was a servant girl.

And yet, like that same servant girl, someone trained to come running, Chloe found her feet moving as if despite themselves, carrying her even closer to the athletic legend.

When she got within a few feet of him, she stopped, her heart racing. That disconcerting feeling of being too high up and staring down at the ground was rushing over her again as Brody’s ruggedly gorgeous face stared at her.

“What do you want?” she said, her voice tight and choked.

“I want to talk to you,” Brody said, smiling.

“You’re incredibly rude,” she told him. “I suppose that you’re used to treating other people like dirt and getting away with it.”

“And you’re just a ray of sunshine,” Brody said, raising an eyebrow.

“You made sure that Red Jameson wouldn’t hire me,” Chloe told him. “Am I supposed to just bat my eye lashes and thank you for telling him not to give me a job?”

“I never told Red what to do. I simply mentioned that you’d been rude to me, which you were.” Brody’s smile faded. “And you know it.”

She fell silent. “It doesn’t matter,” she said after a moment. “I guess you got what you wanted.” And then she turned and started to leave.

“I didn’t get what I wanted, Chloe. Not yet, anyway.”

His voice halted her, compelled her once again to look at him.

She noticed a crowd was forming around the area now, and people were starting to film him and take pictures. Brody, for his part, seemed used to the attention, like it didn’t even register anymore.

“Look, I’m sorry I was rude to you,” she said, turning towards him. “And you’ll never see me again, so it really doesn’t matter.”