Page 21 of Safe Word

‘Thank you, Miss DeLuca,’ I said, allowing her name to roll off my tongue like I needed to taste it.

‘It’s just Paula,’ she corrected, her voice clipped but not unkind. Without another word, she gracefully strode out of the room.

I exhaled slowly as the door clicked shut behind her, the tension lingering like the scent of her sharp-sweet fragrance. This wasn’t just curiosity or desire; it was something deeper, something I couldn’t afford to let get to me.

Just as her footsteps faded, Vinnie immediately assaulted my desk, his eyes blazing. ‘Can I keep these, regardless of the decision?’ he repeated mockingly. ‘Smooth, Casanova. Real smooth. No wonder you’re not getting laid.’

I chuckled, reclining back in my chair, but his flare didn’t falter.

‘She’s not a good fit,’ I said, shrugging, though my voice lacked conviction.

Vinnie raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

‘Not a good fit? Are you fucking kidding me? She writes the same nasty shit you do, her English is flawless, she’s a published author! She’s got the grit for this job – and, let’s be honest, probably the grit to deal with your bullshit, too.’

I shrugged again, though a knot twisted in my gut. ‘I don’t think hiring a distraction would help my writing.’

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. ‘Distraction? You’re hopeless, man. Yeah, she’s hot – I’ll give you that. But that still leaves us without an Assistant Writer. You need to think long and hard about this, Cain. Hire her. Even if her arse is fuckable.’

I smirked, unable to resist matching his crude tone. ‘Funny – I was thinking the same thing about her mouth.’

He gave me a playful nudge. ‘Deviant.’

Snorting, I leaned forward to grab the rest of the books she had left behind. ‘Pretty sure you’re the deviant in this scenario. Can you get me some coffee? I’ve got reading to do.’

Vinnie straightened, narrowing his eyes at me like I’d grown a second head. ‘Reading?’ he echoed, puzzled. ‘You should be writing!’

I raised Paula’s book, wiggling it in my hand. ‘I need to know whether she’s all talk and no game.’

He let out an incredulous puff of air, his arms dropping to his sides. ‘And if she’s all game, you’ll consider hiring her?’

I grinned, already flipping to the first page. The opening lines hooked me instantly, dripping with a tension I knew too well.

‘If she’s all game?’ I mused, a wicked smirk tugging at my lips. ‘Well, her mouth is fuckable, after all.’

Vinnie’s laughter trailed behind him, echoing down the hallway. I, on the other hand, was already lost in her words, the anticipation building with every page I turned.

It was clear she wasn’t just another applicant. Something about her, the contained fire she carried, lingered long after she left the room. It wasn’t just her words or her work; it was the way she held herself – as if she knew exactly who she was and dared the world to challenge it.

FIVE

I muttered a string of colourful words the second I was out of earshot, just to make sure the cavemen didn’t catch it.

I should have seen this disaster coming – the whole interview had all the charm of a misogynistic talent show. One wouldn’t stop ogling my backside like it had arrived with its own bloody CV, and the other couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. A real masterclass in professionalism, that was.

Professionalism, my arse.

I rubbed my temples as I slid into my little Fiat, the frustration from the day threatening to boil over. The sting of rejection burned hotter because, if I was being honest, a part of me had wanted him to be impressed by me. Not just my CV or my books, but me. The thought that Cain D’Angelo – model-turned-dark-romance-writer – might’ve been even remotely affected by me was strangely satisfying.

But the reality was – he wasn’t going to call. Men like him didn’t go for women like me – not professionally, not personally. I was too late, too ordinary, too… something.

I’d received a notification from the Obsidian app earlier. Ghost had sent a calendar request for tomorrow night, and I’d accepted it without much thought.

The tension coiling in my gut wouldn’t wait for tomorrow’s release, though.

There were only two ways I knew how to deal with this kind of pressure: sex or exercise.

Sex wasn’t on the table – not with the constraints of the contract, and definitely not with anyone else. The mere thought of showing my vulnerable side to someone other than Ghost made my stomach churn.