TEMPTATION - A Bad Boy Romance by Gabi Moore

Hood.
    What an asshole.
    Just as I had mentally condemned him forever, and resigned myself to trying to look busy and not stood up, a hidden number flashed across my phone screen with a buzz.
    I froze and then snatched at it, nearly knocking over a glass of water on the table.
    “Hello?”
    “Is this Katie Mack?”
    For a while, I actually didn’t know the answer. It was a deep, familiar accent, but instantly new somehow . It was him .
    He repeated the question, this time with an extra lilt; it was a strange voice, rough and silky at the same time, like old velvet.
    “Yes, this is she,” I said and instantly felt like a dumbass. “This is she”? Nobody but my grandmother spoke like that, what on earth was I thinking.
    “Oh, hi. It’s Tom. We were supposed to have a meeting today, right?”
    Without thinking, the full-blown image of his thick, unapologetic cock sprung into my head. I violently shook it out of my head.
    “Oh, yeah, no. Um – of course, yes! You were supposed to meet me at 11, I think.”
    I think? Why the fuck was I apologizing?
    “I am so sorry,” cooed the velvet voice from inside the phone. “I’m just, uh, I’m tied up with something right now, you know?” This last part came out strange somehow, and the voice warped a little at the end and trailed off.
    “Oh? Umm… no problem, do you want to reschedule then?”
    The line was silent while I waited for an answer, and all of a sudden, a nervous burst of laughter. Then, a woman’s voice, a panicked giggling followed by a loud “shhhhh!”
    My face dropped.
    “Is this a bad time? I’ll get the secretary to reschedule with you if -”
    “No, don’t!” he said, a little too loudly.
    I could still faintly hear the giggling in the background. Was this guy for real? Did he just have a bevy of sluts following him around 24/7?
    “I mean, I’m sorry, yes, let’s reschedule. My apologies.”
    What happened next was, in hindsight, probably the turning point, the big crazy hinge around which everything turned. It was almost imperceptible. I almost didn’t notice it. But I heard it – a quiet, quick growl under the breath, followed by a single, desperate gasp as a counterweight. It was the softest, tiniest sound imaginable …but there was no mistaking it. I knew that sound anywhere. It was the sound of a man coming.
    I dropped the phone on the table like it had suddenly sprouted spikes. I ended the call, dazed.
    I had seemingly forgotten to breathe during the entire exchange and did it all at once the second the screen went dark. I was sitting there like a complete idiot, done up with three different kinds of foundation on my face and shoes that should have been banned for human’s rights violations… and I had been stood up by a jerk, an asshole who had the cheek to haul me all this way to give him an apology and then …and then …was he playing a game with me? I sat stewing for a few moments more.
    The other, weirder thought came bubbling up in my mind. He was definitely having sex. Right now. I was busy being mad as hell for being messed around and he was…
    I looked down at my phone again, ears burning. It was too outrageous to be true and yet it was: I had just had my first celebrity interview, and it was with Tom Hood, the Tom Hood, and he was on the phone, breathing heavy, dick in some giggling girl most likely.
    ‘Tied up’ indeed.
    “Ew,” I said under my breath and immediately wondered whom I thought I was trying to convince. I got up to leave.
    It wasn’t ew. In fact, it was all I thought about for the rest of the day.
     

Chapter Four
     
    “Oh my God, Katie, there you are! Get in here and open this stupid letter, I’m dying to see what it says and they won’t let me open it!”
    Clara, the new intern, was hovering excitedly over my desk, eyeballing a giant basket of blood red flowers with a small white card skewered on a plastic fork in the center.
    When did my life become a sappy rom com?
    “Didn’t you break up