A loud grunt came from the back room where Memphis was waiting to make her entrance. I said the same thing at every signing appearance, and after eight signings, Creed was yet to make that wet dream come true for the fans.
In all seriousness, the idea was a brilliant one from a marketing and sales perspective. Creed had grudgingly modelled for several of Memphis’s book covers, even a couple of the other members of the wounded Souls have graced her covers. None able to say no to the beautiful writer of love, or perhaps it was Creed’s growl that made them agree, whichever, those books always sold exceptionally well. Not that a romance novel from Willow Rose was ever bad, but having a hot biker on the cover never hurt the eyes or sales.
Pushing away the niggle at the back of my mind, deliberately not thinking that soldiers rivalled that hotness, one, in particular, I jumped down from the seat and nodded at the security guys that they should start lining people up I turned to head back to get Memphis.
I wasn’t kidding about Creed not making an appearance. He always stayed in the backroom of wherever the signing was being held, patiently waiting for his wife to do her thing, no doubt staring at his watch until the programmed time was up, then he would whistle out to me, my five-minute warning to wrap things up. One thing I learned about Creed Stephens in the two years I had been working for Memphis, the man was obsessed with his wife, in particular her safety.
Rushing to the small lunchroom, thankful to be out of the spotlight, I planted a smile on my face. The smile I learned many years ago so my grandparents would stop worrying about me. Stop watching every move I made … just in case their poor granddaughter lost the plot again.
“Big crowd out there, boss,” I enthused, then winced when I heard just how forced my excitement sounded. I had to admit these signings weren’t my most favoured duties as a personal assistant. Memphis hired me to be her eyes, my duties included organising events when she had a new book coming out, but I also worked as a personal carer for Memphis. When Creed couldn’t be with her, then I was. When she was at her bookshop, then I was too. I got time off, more than some people might expect, thanks to Creed’s need to be with his wife as much as possible.
Memphis confided in me that since her husband gave up his officer’s patch, their life was one big holiday. Taking trips, cruises, spending all day together, but just recently, Creed took on another project down in Geelong. It was super hush-hush, but Memphis seemed to think it was precisely what her husband needed. However, it also meant he would be spending a little time away from her. That was where my excitement came into play. For a while there, I had worried that my job might be lost due to Creed seeing to most of Memphis’s needs leaving me with not much to do. Then, six months ago, Memphis handed me the keys to her book shop and gave me an added title on my resume.
Book store manager.
Now, I was busier than ever, and I fucking loved it. Especially now, since a week ago when my world turned upside down and shit went completely sideways. Work was always the best way to keep my mind busy, to stop the banter inside my head.
How could you be so stupid, Oaklee? The man was drunk as a skunk and you jumped his bones like a dog in heat.
I could feel the heat from his touch on my skin still five days later. Five days of nothing from Cole, not at the compound, nor at the book store to pick up his mother. As the saying goes, no appearance your worship.
For five days.
Since I’d ridden him reverse cowgirl, and come all over his massive cock, then the next morning stole back to my own room at the compound to have a quick shower only to face Cole in the kitchen and see no recognition in his dark gaze. He didn’t remember me, not having sex all night long, nor holding me in his arms while he slept.
None of it.
Thank god I was on the pill because safe sex didn’t even get a look in before Cole pulled me down on his lap and—
“Umm, Oaklee, are you okay?” Creed’s deep voice startled me out of my Pornhub-worthy dream.
“Huh?” I croaked, feeling the heat on my face, I looked up to see a deep, dark scowl on Creed’s face. His dark onyx eyes seeing more than I was comfortable with.
Oh lord, the same eyes as his sexy, hot, broody, annoying, sensual deep-talking son. Who also had no memory of our night together.
Heat blossomed in other places than my face, and the urge to rub my thighs together became an internal battle just as a low growl from Creed joined his scowl and narrowed glare.
Busted!
Scrambling to remember what Creed asked me before I got lost in my sexual haze, I rushed around the lunch table to where Memphis was sitting calmly, eating a caramel slice while waiting for her two hours of signing to begin.
“I am okie dokie, not a problem with me whatsoever,” I rambled, keeping my back to Creed so the human lie detector could not call me on my bullshit. “Boss, it is time to shine and give those ladies out there some Willow Rose time.” Rambling was turning into manic delirium, and if that piece of caramel slice wasn’t in Memphis’s fingers, I might just gobble
