Wild For You by J. C. Reed

Author:J. C. Reed [Reed, J. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-01T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cash

I still harbor no intention of doing exactly as my new physical therapist says. In fact, I’ve made it my top priority to make sure she knows I decide the pace at which we’re going.

Erin’s a hot little thing as it is…particularly during therapy. No woman I’ve ever met has been as stubborn and angry as she is.

It’s been ten days of therapy; ten days of an angry mix between determination and perseverance. Ten days during which I’ve wanted nothing more than to carry her into my bed and fuck her until she’s coming with my name on her lips. That’s all I’ve been able to think about, day in, day out. And it’s not helping that she seems hell-bent on headbutting me at every corner. I never realized just how hot a smart mouth is in a woman.

Why can’t she just be the help?

Then I would be able to skip therapy and just work my magic to get her into bed. Instead of having my wicked ways with her the way I see fit, she’s the one to call the shots by only rewarding me with a kiss whenever she feels I’ve earned it.

What are we?

Five-year-olds?

That’s the thought that keeps my mind busy and my mood at a new low as I call my club in Chicago.

“This isn’t gonna work, Cash. You can’t give us a new slogan and expect us to create an entire campaign in days when there seems to be a problem with everything, starting with getting a liquor license to getting the interior design done on time,” Jack says.

He’s my on-site manager and as such, one of the best money can buy. But right now he’s not worth the brain space he’s renting in my head. I fight the urge to slam my fist onto my desk out of sheer frustration. If I were in Chicago, face to face with the guy, ‘no’ wouldn’t even feature in his vocabulary. I’m slowly losing my tight grip on my employees; I can see it in the way everyone seems to start to slack off, take the evenings and weekends off, cut corners to get where I want them to get.

“Jack—” I take a menacing breath and release it slowly “—get it done.”

“We need you here, not just for the opening,” Jack says. “People are getting nervous. We’re losing—”

He stops in mid-sentence. I know what he’s about to say.

Money.

Without the media coverage, without the celebrities who used to run through the doors, we’re just another club of which there’s a dime a dozen.

In business, four months equal four years. Right after the accident, the media was in a frenzy, speculating, predicting the worst. Everyone began to feel sorry for me, and my reputation as the super stud—Forbes 100 Most Eligible Bachelors of the Year—was in tatters. It didn’t help that the accident happened at the same time I noticed inconsistencies in my financial reports.

In fact, my accident couldn’t have happened at a worse time. The clubs’ profits began to tank together with my reputation.

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