Publicist, Autumn Troy, agrees to spend personal time with Client, Julian Locke, which isn’t considered working hours. No more than two hours a day.
There was a lot I could do with two hours…
For every interview that client, Julian Locke, has agreed to, Publicist, Autumn Troy, must have dinner with him. Only if I can choose the restaurant.
I guess she was still the picky eater she was as a child. She basically had an interview scheduled every day, which meant we’d be eating dinner together every night. On top of the two hours she was giving me. I could work with that.
My eyes shifted toward the next clause, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her response.
When the Publicist, Autumn Troy, is ready to throw herself at Client, Julian Locke, he will be willing and able to perform up to his full potential. Keep fucking dreaming. It’s never going to happen.
Publicist, Autumn Troy, is NOT ALLOWED to have contact and/or private encounters with other men for the duration of the client, Julian Locke’s, press tour. That goes both ways with you and women, asshole.
I grinned. She felt nothing for my ass.
Chapter SIX
—Julian—
Moving onto the next clause, I read…
During travel, Publicist, Autumn Troy, must sleep in the same suite as Client, Julian Locke. ABSOLUTELY NOT.
I glanced up. “Are you worried you won’t be able to keep yourself from crawling into my bed, Miss Troy?”
She glared at me. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s the problem with us sharing a suite? Unless you’ve forgotten, I was the first man to see you naked. I’d be happy to refresh your memory. I’m sure some things have changed since the last time you were in my bed, except for how many times I can make you come and scream my name.”
Her eyes widened. “And that’s exactly why! You think you’re still allowed to see me naked, when you’re not. You’re never going to see me naked again, Mr. Locke. You don’t have that effect on me anymore. I don’t even find you attractive.”
I deviously grinned, leaning back against my seat. I didn’t say one word, allowing my predatory regard to do all the work for me. It went from her tantalizing green eyes to her pouty lips. Slowly, I sensually started rubbing my thumb over my mouth. Obviously, she was uncomfortable, squirming as my eyes wandered over her body.
I didn’t give a fuck.
I wanted to look at her, so I did.
Reminding me of all the times she’d captivated my senses when she shouldn’t have. I never stopped rubbing my callused fingers over my mouth, as her gaze followed the movement of my hand, causing her luscious lips to purse as she watched my every move. Only triggering the memories of how many times I’d bit her bottom lip.
She liked it.
A lot.
My heady gaze trailed down her neck toward her tits, which were on full display, just waiting to be freed from her tight fucking dress, right down to her narrow, tiny waist. I immediately envisioned all the times I’d gripped onto her hips, guiding her down my cock, or when I fucked her from behind.
She liked that even more.
Miss Autumn Troy was a dirty little girl.
Narrowing my eyes, I continued my visual assault down to her slender thighs, wanting to bury my face between them. My cock twitched at the thought of her riding my face, still remembering the first time I sat her on my mouth, on my bed. It was the second worst day of my life—the first was leaving her. However, she made that day better for me. The second I tasted of her, and fucked her virgin hole with my tongue, I knew there was no going back for me.
For us.
I seductively licked my lips, practically tasting her against my tongue.
Her skin flushed.
Her legs squirmed.
Her body completely reacted to my greedy perusal.
Autumn might claim she didn’t feel anything for me, but her body and pussy were telling a different story.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“I thought I didn’t affect you?”
“You don’t.”
“So if I slid my fingers into your panties, you wouldn’t be wet for me right now?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not wearing any.”
I laughed, throwing my head back.
The little fucking minx.
“And who’s benefit was that for, Miss Troy?”
She ignored my question. “This isn’t a slumber party, Mr. Locke. We don’t need to share a suite.”
“Well, I have no intention of sleeping.”
“Which is exactly why we’re not sharing a suite.”
I smiled. “Don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?”
“I’m alone with you right now.”
“You had Erin sitting here when I walked in.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You need to trust me when I say my intentions are pure.”
“You literally just said you had no plans of sleeping.”
“When you have hundreds of people relying on you to make a living, you don’t sleep much. You took my words out of context. What I was insinuating was that we could go over our daily game plan for the tour. You know, get me ready for the world to fall in love with me.”
She beamed. “We could absolutely do that.”
“Great.” I grabbed a highlighter to approve the same suite clause, and she yanked the contract from my hands.
“I can easily walk to my own suite from yours, Mr. Locke.”
“I usually rent the penthouse floor when I’m traveling.”
“Why? You’re only one person.”
“I enjoy my privacy, and if people see you leaving my suite at all hours of the late nights, they’re going to assume we’re doing much more than debriefing.”
“Not happening.”
“What about the paparazzi? You see how much they follow me around. You want to deal with the press?”
She thought about it for a minute before she reluctantly resigned. “Fine. But I want my own room and bathroom, and they need to be the furthest away from yours.”
Pretending like I wasn’t pleased I’d persuaded her to change her mind, I grabbed the highlighter out of her hand and added in her terms.
Reading on…
Publicist must be present during travel, car rides, and flights from one press juncture to the next. She also agrees to be present for all the itineraries she has scheduled for the client.
Do you honestly think I trust you to say the right things? I have to be there just to cover your ass and make sure I can do damage control when you fuck it up.
I smiled—she knew me well.
The next clauses weren’t anything of importance, at least not to me. The ones I wanted her to approve, she did.
Closing the contract, I hit the intercom on my phone.
“Yes, Mr. Locke?”
“Erin, come to my office.”
Moments later, she walked in, and I handed her the contract.
“Have HR re-draft this immediately and return it to me once it’s finalized.”