A CLUB TO SATE YOUR DARKEST PLEASURES WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU’D EXPECT TO FIND A GIRL LIKE ME WITH A MAN LIKE HIM.
It was supposed to be an adventure. Anonymous. No chance that I’d ever see the other person again, especially not in a big city like New York.
Or so I thought before Alexander Blankenship—the filthiest playboy on Wall Street—became my feature story.
He was the same man who made me submit to his touch at the club, who made me beg, who left my legs watery and weak by the end of the night.
I’m supposed to find out everything I can about him. What his favorite color is. How he likes his coffee in the morning.
Who he’s been f****** and where.
But the moment I step into his office.
The moment those doors click shut.
I know I’m in trouble.
His dark eyes cut right through my clothes and tell me that he wants to play.