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“I’ll get straight to the point. I need you to have my baby.”
Jackson King watched the girl’s eyes widen as she looked from him to his Beta, Dylan.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. I thought you said you needed me to have your baby,” she chuckled.
He could sense her unease the same way he could smell her arousal. She was drenched. Even without a wolf telling her she was his, her body knew it, and he hated that. He hated that he had to fight so hard with his beast to stop it from claiming what was rightfully his. He hated the fact that he had to resort to this. She was half-human! Why would the Moon-Goddess curse him like this on top of everything else?
He’d caught her scent even before he had walked into the hotel days before, and now it filled the entire suite, taunting him, reminding him how fucked up everything was.
“I did,” he answered. “I need a surrogate, and I will pay you handsomely.”
“Um... I’ve just walked into this room to clean. You don’t know me; you don't even know my name,” she said.
“Layla Carlisle.”
Layla looked down at the name tag on her uniform. She covered it briefly before she probably realised it was useless and lowered her hand. But he didn’t need her name tag to know who she was.
“Twenty-one years old. High school dropout. You live in a trailer with your father and sister.” Layla’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he sensed her anger.
“Have you been stalking me?” she hissed.
Dylan snickered. He gave his Beta a look that shut him up before he returned his attention to the human.
“No, I haven’t been stalking you,” he said, but he could tell he had already lost the momentum. Layla's anger had grown at an alarming rate, eclipsing even the sweet scent of her arousal.
The human stood and smoothed her uniform before she lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. His beast unfurled, his excitement rippling through him at the thought of accepting
his mate’s challenge.
“I don’t know why you two need to ask a stranger to have your baby, but I don’t think I will be right for the job. I wish you all the best, though,” Layla said.
It took him a moment to realise what she meant as she walked over to her cleaning cart and started pulling it out of the room.
This was the problem with humans. Feeling the pull of their bond wouldn't have been an issue if she’d had a wolf. He would have marked her the moment he had found her, and she would have been carrying his pup already.
“Miss Carlisle, can we talk about this? You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to pay.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be your surrogate,” she answered firmly. “I’ll return later to clean your suite.”
When she closed the door, he heard her mutter, “It’s always the handsome ones.”
She thought he was crazy. And she was right—he lost more of his mind the longer he went without a child and the shorter his time on this earth got.
“She thinks we’re gay, Jax,” Dylan pointed out as he sat in the spot she had vacated. “I got that,” he growled.
“I don’t think she will change her mind,” Dylan said. “I don’t understand why you can’t pick someone from the pack and be done with it.”
He would have had many children already if it had been that easy. Goddess knew how much he had tried. But Fate had messed that up for him, too, and made sure only one woman could carry his children. Only one woman could save them all—his mate.
“I told you why.”
At least as much as he could. Dylan was not only his Beta; he was also his only friend. Keeping the truth from him was essential. Keeping it from everyone was crucial. It was bad enough that they would have to accept his heir from a woman who was as useless as a human, but he could deal with that better than the panic that the truth would cause. He had no time to soothe anyone or deal with the packs that would circle his territory when they realised he was about to die.
As the Alpha King, the repercussions would be astronomical.
“I doubt any of our pack would assume they are the Queen just because they have your child.
They can do a blood oath—”
“Dylan, please,” he sighed as he stood and walked towards the drinks cabinet.
It was still morning, but fuck it. He needed something to calm and stop himself from going after the human. To prevent himself from pinning her down and marking her while he buried himself deep inside her body.
He closed his eyes as he tried not to imagine what that would feel like, but it was all his wolf wanted and all he could see.
Every wolf he’d ever come across dreamed of being lucky enough to one day meet their mate, but he couldn’t understand why anyone would think this was a blessing. It was torture!
“Okay. Pick another one if that girl doesn’t want to do it.”
Cain growled in his head, ready to attack Dylan for even suggesting that, but he shoved his wolf back and focused on his drink.
And just like that, his mind returned to a place he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to think of touching Layla or tasting her. He didn’t want to remember the scent of her arousal.
Four days since he first caught Layla’s sweet scent, he was already acting like a lunatic.
The first day felt like a gift from the Goddess. He was almost out of time, so finding his mate had given him hope. And then he had seen her. A half-blood. Half-human and cleaning up after everyone else. It felt like a punch in the nuts; he’d wanted to kill someone for this cruel joke. She was not worthy to carry his child; she was not worthy to be the one who saved them all.
But there they were.
There was no other choice. “Jax—”
“Get more information on her. She’s human. You’ll find many weaknesses I can use,” he ordered. “She’s the one I’ve picked, so she’s the one I’ll have.”
Layla would have his child one way or another, and then he could finally have some peace.
Dylan felt the command in his words and stood up to do as he had ordered. When he sensed his Beta was far enough away from their suite, he picked up his glass and threw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces.
If he told Dylan the truth, he would tie the girl up and offer her to him on a silver platter. But then his child would be a product of rape; that was the last thing he wanted. The child would be his legacy, the only thing left of him on this earth, and would carry his blood. He couldn’t taint the child before he had even conceived them. He was a bastard, but not that much. His child would be the best part of him.
Layla would change her mind. Humans loved money, and this one, in particular, was drowning in debt. Why hadn’t she wanted to know how much he was offering her? He could solve all her problems in a day if she took his offer. That meant Dylan had to find something else he could use.
Something she couldn’t refuse.
The growl came louder in his head as his beast showed his displeasure. But he was in charge here, not Cain. They would do things his way, and at the end of it all, Layla could go back to her life because there was no future for them, even if she wasn’t a half-blood.
‘Find her. Mark her,’ Cain growled.
‘Be patient! She hasn’t got a wolf; she doesn’t even know we exist,’ he snapped as he picked up an entire bottle of alcohol and walked towards his bedroom.
And marking her was out of the question.
He didn’t stay at the Royal Hotel often even though he owned it and it was in his territory, but he was sure Layla hadn’t been around the last time he had been there. Her scent was all over the hotel as if she had marked it. Could anyone else smell it? Did they have that sweet, intoxicating scent turning them inside out? Making them drool? Making them think of nothing else except to claim her?
One thing was certain now. If—no, when—Layla agreed to this, he would get her pregnant and then stay the hell away from her. He’d been hard for days, and her scent had made Cain unstable. He didn’t need that complication on top of everything else. Not when he had less than a year left to live.

chapter 2

Did she have some sign on her head that said she was a pushover or desperate?
Layla pushed the cart with more force than necessary until she was far enough away from the
penthouse suite and then leaned against the wall. Her knees were still shaking, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the man’s words or the man himself. It surprised her she hadn’t fallen flat on her face when she’d made her righteous exit.
The men were in the most expensive suite in the exclusive hotel; they didn’t need to ask a stranger to help them out. He might have somehow gotten a hold of some of her personal information, but everyone in Wolfdale knew about her. The kid abandoned by her mother. The kid who’d dropped out of school so she could work and take care of her little sister because their father was an alcoholic and a gambling addict.
That didn’t mean she had no dignity left. She wouldn’t give up a child! Those men thought they could throw their money around like that, and she would agree just because she wasn’t like them, and that made her blood boil.
But in her mind, she still saw the man naked and on top of her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel it. It was a shame he was gay because she was positive he would be great in bed.
Her body was still on fire, still trying to get over the shock of coming face to face with such a perfect specimen of a man.
A god.
He looked like one. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Chiselled jawline, a short beard that probably cost more than her wages to maintain and silky, dark hair styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed and didn’t give a fuck. He’d turned her knees to jelly and melted her panties in seconds without moving from his seat. Without even cracking a smile. She had never reacted so violently to anyone before.
Why was it always the handsome ones that were batshit crazy?
She pushed aside the disappointment. The cool wall slightly helped control her overheating body, but sweat still dripped down her back and cleavage. They were in the middle of a heatwave so intense even the hotel’s air conditioning system wasn’t helping. She’d been like that for a few days as if she was coming down with something for the first time in her life.
But it was the stranger with the cold ice-blue eyes that had worked her up like that.
She shouldn’t care about who he shared his bed with, but something inside her wanted to claw the other guy’s eyes out. It was so strong that she had to make a conscious effort to stop herself from returning to the room. Crazy. She was going crazy.
“I don’t pay you to have unscheduled breaks, Layla.”
Her eyes snapped open to see Andrea looking down her nose at her as usual. And it took a special kind of person to look down their nose at someone who towered over them. Andrea
barely reached her chest.
“I’m sorry, Miss Roberts,” she said, lowering her head. “I’m almost finished.”
Her supervisor insisted on being called Miss Roberts since her promotion, as if that would make her more respectable. Everyone knew how she got that job.
“You’re a mess,” Andrea said, wrinkling her nose. “And you smell. Clean yourself up and do something with that hair. We have important guests here today; I don’t have time to deal with you.”
She self-consciously wiped the sweat on her forehead and patted her hair down, even though she knew it wouldn’t help. Her red, curly hair was just a giant unruly puff above her head, and her pale blue uniform had sweat stains under her armpits. Whatever sweat that wasn’t being sucked up by her hair was dripping down her face like crazy.
Another reason why that stranger had to be out of his mind to make such an offer to her while she looked like that.
Andrea turned and carried on down the hallway in her formal suit and high heels. Her manager did indeed look distracted today, so she supposed she had to be grateful for that because usually, she would have shouted at her and threatened to fire her at least a hundred times already.
With a sigh, she put Andrea and the handsome stranger out of her mind as she continued cleaning. By the time she finally left the hotel that evening, she looked even worse, but she went out through the staff entrance and straight to her little car without bumping into Andrea again.
There was a shower with her name on it at home.
It took her almost half an hour to leave the nicer neighbourhoods and cross the tracks to hers. It was so cliched, but the wealthy had separated themselves from the rest of the residents. The difference was stark, but she was used to it. There was nothing shiny on her side, and all the cars were old bangers like hers. Everything needed fixing or was broken beyond repair. But she felt more at home there, even if she itched to leave the dump and discover what was beyond Wolfdale.
She parked outside their old trailer home and sighed as she walked in. The TV was blaring, and her father lay on the couch, already passed out. She didn’t have to go near him to know he had been drinking again. The day’s mail was on the counter near the door, placed there where she wouldn’t miss it, and it was unopened even though it had her father’s name on it. Bills. Overdue bills.
The stranger's offer popped back into her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t need to sell a piece of herself to pay the bills.
She sighed again as she picked the mail up and headed for the tiny bedroom she shared with her sister. She carefully opened the creaky door in case Britney was asleep but saw her hunched over her books instead. A small smile formed on her lips.
It was worth it. All the shit she had to do to feed her sister was worth it. Brit would forge a better life all by herself, away from this dump.
And then she would finally be free, too.
Layla felt like she’d hardly closed her eyes when her alarm went off. She always woke up early to make sure Brit didn’t forget to eat her breakfast before school. Her sister always did that, as if by skipping meals, she would lighten the load on her shoulders.
There was hardly anything in the fridge, and she probably couldn’t do a proper grocery shop for a while with the bills she had to pay. A second job would have been great, but no one was hiring. Another pitfall of living in a small town in the middle of nowhere. She had to do her best until they could leave for greener pastures.
And she couldn’t leave until Brit left for college.
With a loud yawn, she took the eggs out and set about making an omelette for Brit with a couple of slices of toast. She’d just poured herself a cup of coffee when she noticed her father through the window. In just his pyjama bottoms, his long, brunette hair was a tangled mess, and his beard was weeks old. Her father didn’t care that the neighbours always saw him like this. He was pacing and seemed to be in a heated argument on the phone. He looked tense and had a scowl as he gestured with his free hand like the person on the other side could see him. What the hell had that man done now?
She wouldn’t get involved. Gerald Carlisle hadn’t been a real father to them in a very long time. “Smells good.”
She turned from the window to smile at her sister, who’d already dressed for school. Brit was the spitting image of their father with her brunette locks and hazel eyes. She was also the shortest in the family. People never believed they were sisters because she looked like a sasquatch beside Brit.
“Aren’t you having any?” Brit asked. “No, I’ll eat at the hotel,” she lied.
That was her excuse whenever she didn’t have enough money to feed all of them. Andrea never allowed them to take even a piece of fruit from the kitchen.
Their father wrenched the door open and marched in. His large frame took up most of the space in the small kitchen. He didn’t even bother speaking to them as he went straight to the fridge and pulled a beer out. That was the one thing abundant in their house.
When he just threw himself onto the one sofa they had in the house and put the TV on, Brit shook her head and stood.
“I’m going to school,” she mumbled.
Layla looked at the half-eaten omelette on Brit’s plate. “Finish your breakfast,” she said firmly.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” Brit said as she walked to their bedroom.
Layla couldn’t help glaring at the disgrace of a man who had already become engrossed in his program. Gerald acted like he was the only one in the family her mother had abandoned—he’d wasted eleven years pining over someone who didn’t want any of them. It made her furious, but she didn’t have to put up with him much longer.
Brit mumbled a goodbye when she came out of their room with her school bag. “Wait.”
She pulled some money out of her pocket and gave a few notes to Brit. It was supposed to have gone in the money jar she kept hidden for emergencies or to top up Brit’s college fund, but keeping her sister healthy was more important. She would find a way to replace it.
“Layla_”
“Take it. Have something to eat at school,” she insisted.
She didn’t miss that Gerald had become very interested in that small exchange and would probably ask her for money, too. She finished Brit’s breakfast without giving him any attention before she went to shower and dress for work.
She didn’t bother straightening her hair because it was still early morning, but the heat was already unbearable. At least the hotel washed their uniforms daily, so she didn’t have to worry about the sweat stains. She just tied her hair up into a neater puff and looked at herself in the small, cracked mirror in the corner of their cramped room. The inspection was brief because, unlike Brit, she was the image of her mother. Her green eyes were a shade she’d never seen on anyone else, and it was unnerving. The entire package made her feel like an outsider in her family.
She reached for her bag and froze when she heard a crash and loud voices.
Her heart hammered loudly, and her hands shook as she inched the door open to stop it from creaking before peeking out.
A large man stood over her father, who he had smashed through their wooden coffee table. Gerald tried to get back to his feet, but the man punched him down again. She took a sharp breath when she saw how helpless her father was as he pleaded for mercy.
What had he done now?
“I already gave you several chances, Gerald,” another man said.
He sat in her father’s spot on the chair. She could only see the back of his blond head, but it looked greasy and slicked back. Like a baddie out of a horrible B-grade horror movie.
She wanted to slip out through her window and let her father suffer alone, but that stupid thing in her head reminded her he was still family. And this was Brit’s home; she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen here.
With a calming breath, she opened the door wider and walked out of the bedroom. “I swear, I only need a little more time,” Gerald said. “I’m good for it this time.” “You said that last time,” the man said.
As he stood, he looked back as if he had already known she was standing behind him. He was young, with a scar across his face that gave him a terrifying look. He wore a suit, but he had a gold tooth and chain around his neck like he really copied his sense of style from a terrible movie. She felt a cold shiver down her spine when he pulled his coloured sunglasses off his face, and his grey eyes looked over her body from top to bottom. Her skin crawled at the blatant violation.
“Hello, Layla,” the man said.
Great. A second stranger knew her name.
When she didn’t answer, he laughed and looked back at her father.
“You’re lucky this beautiful angel is here,” the man said. “I think you know what you can give me if you can’t pay up. I’ll be in touch.”
The man turned back to her with another sinister grin before walking out, and the enormous
man standing over her father followed.
She waited until she heard their car drive off before she stormed to her father. “How much do you owe?” she hissed.
“Not much. Just twenty grand.”
Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she heard that figure. Not much? That amount would go a long way in sending Brit off to college.
“How?! What did you do with such a large amount of money? You haven’t paid bills here or taken care of us in a long time!”
Gerald gingerly sat back in his chair, ignoring the mess the men had made in the living room.
“It was supposed to be a sure bet,” Gerald mumbled. “I would have paid off everything and then had enough to fix things.”
Her blood went cold. Her father’s gambling had landed them in the trailer park to start with. “You said you would stop. You said you’d never gamble aga—”
“Well, I lied,” Gerald snapped. “And I obviously can’t fix this myself, so you’ll have to think of your sister. I’ll give him what he wants and be done with it.”
She remembered the look in the man’s eyes when he’d looked at her, and her meagre breakfast almost came back up.
“And what’s that, Dad?” she whispered. “You. I’m going to give him you.”

chapter 3

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think for one second that I’ll let you pimp me out!”
Somewhere between her mother leaving him with two small girls to raise on his own and now, Gerald Carlisle must have lost his damn mind. Completely.
“You go with him, or we all die. Simple as that,” her father said.
“We don’t have to pay for your mistakes! I’ll take Brit and leave,” she snarled.
“Brit is still seventeen, and I’m her father. You can’t take her anywhere,” Gerald said as he stood up again.
Her father could be intimidating if he wanted to be. He had never been violent towards them, but she knew it wasn’t because he wasn’t capable of it. She had picked him up from the police station after many bar fights often enough to know the damage he could cause. And she could see the desperation in his hazel eyes as he approached her.
“And I don’t see you dragging Brit out of school in her senior year when you want her to graduate,” Gerald continued. “And that’s what I want, too. Britney has a better chance than us to get out of this shit hole. She can make something of herself. But you, Layla... You’re a high school dropout. Scrubbing rich people’s toilets is all you’ll ever be good at. You might as well do this for your sister.”
She sucked in her breath.
His words cut her deep. Gerald had sliced her open and poured salt all over her wounds. “And whose fault is that?” she whispered.
“Stop blaming me. You’re resourceful. If you’d wanted to stay in school, you would have found a way,” Gerald snarled. “Besides, you look just like your mother. I’m sure you’ll make more money on your back than at that hotel.”
She gasped.
Anger mixed with her pain as she turned away from her father and walked back to her bedroom. Tears fell to her cheeks, but she angrily wiped them away. She wouldn’t let her father ruin their plans. Her sister was the only good thing in her life—she would not let Gerald break her, too.
She would pay the debt off herself if she had to. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d cleaned up Gerald’s messes.
It would set them back, but at least Brit could still leave when she graduated.
Layla stood and locked her door before easing her bed away from the wall. She pushed one of the square panels on the wall until it shifted enough for her to squeeze her fingers through and pull it open.
And then nothing.
There was nothing in the hole.
Her jar... Her emergency fund was gone.
Her anger overtook her pain as she stood and unlocked the door. She wrenched the door open with force and marched to the living room to stand in front of her father.
“Where is it?” she growled.
“You’re blocking the TV, Layla,” her father said with disinterest as he sipped a fresh beer. As if they hadn’t just had some wannabe gangsters threaten their lives.
“Where is my money?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Her chest was tight, and her breathing harsh. Her body trembled as fury mixed with despair. That jar was everything. All their hopes and dreams for the future. All their problems solved. And it was just gone. How could Gerald sink so low? How could a father...
Gerald stopped mid-sip to look at her and then glanced away again. But the guilt was so apparent on his face.
“I had to pay him something the first time he came,” he mumbled.
All her strength sapped from her body, and her legs became too weak to hold her. She sank to the floor among the debris from the broken table, tears filling her eyes again as she looked at the man who could so casually throw such a bombshell on her. How could he rip their lives apart like this? Did they really not mean anything to him?
No, they didn’t. They hadn’t meant anything to Gerald since their mother had left him.
“I will not be a part of your mess,” she hissed as she stood up. “I will help you pay him back with money, not my body, only because I won’t let you taint Britney.”
“And how will you help me? You earn peanuts,” Gerald sneered.
“I earn something, which is more than I can say for you. Get a job and learn some principles. It’s not okay to sell your children!”
She marched back to the bedroom to put everything back in place and pushed her pain to the back of her mind. It was a skill she had learned too early in her life so she could function. Her father would always be a disappointment. The best she could do was try to get Brit away from him, even if it meant leaving before she graduated.
The stranger’s offer popped back into her mind. Shame filled her when she considered it a little longer than she should have. But she could do this without his help.
She would have to ask for more hours at work— Work! Shit!
She grabbed her bag and car keys and rushed out of the house without another word to her father. Being late would mean a warning, and she couldn’t risk this job, not now.
Half an hour later, she snuck in through the staff entrance and thankfully found the staff room empty. By the time she’d changed into her uniform and work shoes, she was confident she could get away with this if no one saw her. But as she pushed her cart out of the cleaning closet, she found Andrea waiting outside, arms crossed and tapping her foot.
“This is the second time this month, Layla.”
Right. The first time her junk of a car had given up on her and she’d had to take a bus. She’d forgotten about that. This would be her second strike. One more, and she was out.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Roberts. I had a family emergency.”
“I don’t believe you. You could have called. You think you can waltz around the place and do whatever you want, but the world doesn’t revolve around you,” Andrea said as she pulled a notepad from her pocket. “The rest of us understand we have responsibilities here. This will be your last warning.”
“Andrea_”
“Miss Roberts,” Andrea hissed. “I understand you’re only twenty-one, Layla, but you must learn to be more responsible. Get to work.”
She sighed. How could she ask for more hours if Andrea was on the warpath? Maybe she could pull it off if she gave her some time to cool off and tried at the end of the day. If that didn’t work, going over Andrea’s head to ask the manager directly would be her last option. Or she could walk around town after work to beg someone else to hire her part-time.
She started working on autopilot, scrubbing a million toilets and cleaning up after the entitled guests of the exclusive hotel while her mind was lost in trying to find a solution. What kind of man would think selling their child was the best way out of their problems? What kind of man would demand that of somebody else? She didn’t know who this man who’d invaded their home was, but she knew she would never give herself to him. Just the thought of it was making her nauseous.
A few hours later, she came up to the penthouse suite—the room where that handsome stranger had made the ridiculous request. There was too much to worry about that she hadn’t thought of him all day, but he filled her head completely the second she knocked on his door.
And once again, her body started to react and overheat.
There was no answer, thankfully. She didn’t know what to do if he made the same offer again. She unlocked the door, pushed her cart in, and had to stop and squeeze her thighs together when she caught a pleasant scent. It had to be his cologne. Spicy and masculine, just like he was.
Her toes curled again, just remembering what he looked like. She’d only seen him for minutes, but his image seemed to have burnt into her head.
But she had to get over it. He was gay.
“Housekeeping,” she called out in case the two men hadn’t heard her. Maybe they were still in bed or in the shower.
Again, the urge to claw the other man’s eyes out took her over. What the hell was wrong with her?
She left the cart in the living area and entered the guest bathroom. The heat was worse than the day before, but it hadn’t bothered her much until she walked into the penthouse suite. One look in the mirror told her she would have to tidy herself up before she saw Andrea again.
Strands of her hair had fallen out of her puff, and rivers of sweat were pouring down her face. Her uniform was beyond saving. It was a good thing the stranger wasn’t there to see all that mess.
She splashed cold water on her face, but that didn’t even begin to cool her down. She looked longingly at the shower behind her and then the sunken tub. What she wouldn’t give to soak in a cool bath or stand under a cool spray. But she still had a million more rooms to clean, and showering in the guest rooms would be an automatic dismissal.
She splashed more water on her face and then wet one of the clean face towels to cool her heated neck. That didn’t help much, either. She was on fire, and nothing would put the flames out. She wet the towel again as she undid all the buttons of her shirt and untucked it from her skirt. Then she placed the cool cloth on her chest.
That was better. She sighed in relief when her body started to behave. If the heatwave didn’t break soon, she’d be a puddle on the floor.
Half an hour later, she was considerably cooler and late to start the cleaning. There was nothing she could do about her sweaty uniform. At least she was invisible to the guests. All the clientele had money coming out of their eyeballs; the help was always invisible to people like that.
She picked up the towels she’d used and walked out of the bathroom to her cleaning cart.
And in walked the biggest man she had ever seen. He had been sitting when she’d first seen him, so she hadn’t realised how tall he was. She didn’t often meet people that much taller than her.
Her body heated again as if she hadn’t just spent all her allocated time cooling herself down.
She met that ice-blue gaze again, and her insides melted. He still looked as angry as he had when they had met—maybe that was his default expression. Maybe rich people looked at others like that because they assumed someone would ask them for money. But a shiver went down her spine at just how cold he was. Still, she didn’t look away. There was just something about him...
Her heart drummed so loudly she could hear it. Something washed over her whole body that felt gentle and overwhelming at the same time. Her body hummed with a need that shocked her with its intensity. She’d been hot before, but now she was burning up, and that fire shot straight down to her core.
“Why are you just standing there? Move out of the way.”
Someone’s voice drifted into her ears. It took her a moment to realise that Mr. Sex-On-Legs’ boyfriend was standing next to him, and he looked at her just as coldly. What was with these people? Did they behave like assholes everywhere they went?
The urge to attack him returned, but she knew the consequences would be even more significant than losing her job if she gave in.
“Are you sure you want her?” the man continued, looking at her from top to bottom. “She can’t even follow simple instructions.”
Her gaze returned to the ice-blue ones. The anger in them almost knocked her back. Was he upset that she had denied his illogical request?
“Cover yourself up,” the sexy man growled. That voice again.
She bit her lip to stop herself from saying something that would get her fired or arrested and
squeezed her thighs together again.
She couldn’t help herself. His full lips parted slightly as if he was breathing through his mouth, and his chest rose and fell as if he’d been running. He looked like he was close to ripping her head off.
“Cover yourself up.”
His words penetrated her lust-addled brain like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on her.
She looked down at her chest, remembering she had unbuttoned it to cool down. Everything was on display! She was bursting out of her old, lacy bra in front of strangers!
Gasping, she clutched the shirt together and turned around. Her face heated, and she knew the colour would match her hair.
“I was looking for you, Layla. Judging by this warm welcome, I take it you’ve changed your mind?”
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