“I’m a schoolteacher, Mr. Compton,” I finally manage to say. “I love a good test. I’m simply curious as to what kind of testing.”
“We’ll start with basics, and I’ll decide where we go from there,” he says, cutting a quick look at Amanda. “I’ll finish up the paperwork with Ms. McMillan, Amanda.” He is curt, authoritative. Intimidating. Intimidatingly sexy.
“Oh yes,” she says, popping to her feet like a jack-in-the-box who’s just had its handle cranked. She wasn’t kidding about being intimidated by the man, and with him present, I am not without understanding of how she feels.
“Coffee is ready, by the way,” she announces to him, and I can feel her angst, her plea for his approval that she doesn’t get. She grabs her cup and heads toward him, and he steps aside to allow her to exit, but his eyes are locked on me, impassive, unreadable. That insecure part of me that Michael played on flares its ugly head inside me, that part of me so like Amanda. Heat lashes through my veins and I will it away. I could so easily want to please this man, and it terrifies me that I still have that in me.
You are not the same person you were with Michael, I tell myself. I’m not naive. I’m not inexperienced. I will not be captivated by this man’s power, his presence, even if I am not blind to his appeal. I am in control. Besides, he is my boss, not my lover.
He saunters to the coffeepot and fills a cup and, without asking, refills my cup. His eyes meet mine before he moves away, and I see the steel there, I see the dominance in the otherwise polite act. He didn’t ask if I wanted more coffee. He simply decided I did and thus I do. I need to establish parameters with this man and do so now. I am not going to touch that cup.
In an instant, he’s claimed the seat across from me, and the entire room along with it, and I am staring into those silvery gray eyes and I do not dare look away. I tell myself it’s my show of strength, but deep down, I know I am captivated, commanded, to hold his stare.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up today,” he finally says.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Several seconds tick by before his lips quirk slightly and he reaches into the folder and passes me a piece of paper and a pencil. “I hired you without so much as a reference check, on pure instinct. My instincts, Ms. McMillan, are very good. I’d like you to prove that an accurate statement.” He reaches for the powdered creamer.
I glance down at the paper and see ten questions, quickly determining they are all related to medieval art.
“Begin,” he orders softly.
I glance up at him to find him settling back into his seat, clearly intending to watch me write the test. He wants to intimidate me, and I do not want to let him. My jaw sets, and
I reach for the pencil. I can feel him watching me, and I am flustered to realize my hand shakes ever so slightly. Men like him do not miss such details. He knows it’s shaking. He knows he’s affecting me.
I forcefully clear the haze from my mind and focus on the questions, which are quite advanced but well within my expertise. I finish them quickly and flip the paper around for his review.
He’s still leaning back in his chair, deceptively casual, watching me, his gaze hooded, his expression once again impassive. He doesn’t reach for the test, but instead, his attention flicks to my cup.
“You aren’t drinking your coffee, Ms. McMillan.”
“I’m over my limit for the day.”
“Limits are meant to be pushed.”
“Too much caffeine makes me shaky.” The words—the lie—is out before I can stop it. Where are all these lies coming from?
He leans forward, and I can smell his clean, spicy male scent. “Sharing a cup of coffee,” he says, “is a bit like celebrating a new partnership, don’t you think?”
The challenge he has just issued crackles in the air, along with some other, unnamed electricity that had my throat thick and my heart racing. It’s just a cup of coffee, but yet I sense that this is about so much more, that this is another test that has nothing to do with skill but rather with him. Me. And I don’t know why I want to comply, to please him. Of course I do, I tell myself. He’s the kind of man who expects those around him to follow his lead. I cannot fight his will and be here. I tell myself that is why I comply, why I do as I wish. I tell myself I am not weak, and he is in control of the job, not me. I reach for the coffee.
***
Check out the Inside Out series:
http://lisareneejones.com/connected-books/inside-out-series
Please note: this is not a love triangle series.
Series Playlist
Nerve Damage by Lifehouse
I'm with You by Avril Lavigne
Broken by Lifehouse
Could I Be You by Matchbox Twenty
Broken by Seether, Amy Lee
Somewhere In Between by Lifehouse
If You're Gone by Matchbox Twenty
Whatever It Takes by Lifehouse
Take Me Away by Lifehouse
Like Sugar by Matchbox Twenty
Overjoyed by Matchbox Twenty
The Bottom by Staind
Somebody That I Used To Know by Goyte, Kimbra
Disease by Matchbox Twenty
Mad World by Adam Lambert
Stay by Rihanna
You and Me by Lifehouse
Say Something by A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera
Madness by Muse
Hysteria by Mus
Hurricane by Thirty Seconds to Mars
When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars
Fan Favorite Quotes
IF I WERE YOU
“You shouldn't walk away from something that intrigues you”
“Other people’s perfection is a facade we create when we are second guessing ourselves”
“... I think we are two messed up people destined to destroy each other, but I can't walk away. No. Can't isn't the issue. I simply don't want to.”
BEING ME
“This is who I am, Sara. I will protect you from everything and everyone else, but I can’t protect you from who I am or who we will be if you stay with me.”
“I've always known we were two puzzle pieces that fit together in a hollow that is our pain. There was a time when I was certain we were too damaged not to destroy each other. Now I think we are saving each other.”
“I need him to know that I want to understand him because he matters, because we matter. Because life made me believe that what is blossoming between us wasn’t possible, but maybe, just maybe, it is.”
“I do high heels better post-caffeine.”
THE MASTER UNDONE
“She’s real to me in a way that no one else has felt in too long. In a world that seems painted in false shadows, I need something real in my life right now.”
“I trust this woman more than I trust myself right now. And that scares me in a way I haven't been scared in a very long time.”
“She’s right, and yet my blood pumps faster, just thinking about having her naked and willingly at my mercy. I can’t help but think she’s exactly what I need: a challenge. And how sweet her submission would be, because I’d really earned it.”
"Oh, please. You have so many rules, your rules have rules. Any woman who dared to date you would need an encyclopedia-sized book to keep up.”
REVEALING US
“Hungry for him, I want his passion, I want his pain. I want it all.”
“The past is a part of you and us. You can store it away someplace different, but you can't make it go away. And you can't even resolve it until you, we, face it.”
“Baby, I held back today to let you get over all you've been through. But don't let that mislead you. You wouldn't be here if I planned on protecting you from me.”
HIS SECRETS
“There are two kinds of pain, Sara. Pain meant to create pleasure, and pain meant to be just pain. You will never know that kind with me.”
MY HUNGER
 
; “I have no choice but to push her to make her feelings and her position clear.”
“No one sees anything I don’t want them to. But this woman, she sees too much. She makes me do things I don’t do, and desire things I don’t want to.”
“What I need is her: to taste her, to feel those lips against mine, and that’s exactly what I do. My mouth closes on hers, my tongue delving deeply, stroking, tasting. Taking. I need. Oh yes, I do, but that need shifts and changes, turns to something darker, and more demanding”
“Please, Mr. Compton.”
NO IN BETWEEN
“Our demons are finally not as strong as we are”
“My fear? It’s you not needing me enough.”
“If you want me to trust you and show you everything, you have to be willing to trust me that much, too.”
“I can’t lose you.”
“It’s my turn to save him.”
“Trust isn’t a fair-weather friend. It’s about willingness to be vulnerable and exposed”
MY CONTROL
“My resolve to keep a distance from her once and for all dissolves instantly.”
“People who’re completely wrong for each other are completely right in a certain moment in time. Like us right now.”
“Why does she feel so soft and still so right when she’s supposed to be wrong?”
“I need this woman here, now, and with the kind of abandon I rarely allow myself”
I BELONG TO YOU
“Give yourself to me, Crystal.”
“The very thing that would have made her wrong for me in the past is the very thing that makes her what I want and need now.”
“I never take what isn’t given to me freely, Ms. Smith.”
“I trust Mark, even if he doesn’t. And if he owns me, the past doesn’t. I almost sag with relief.
“For the night,” I concede. “You own me for only this night.”
“I had no right to drag you into my hell—and once I did, couldn’t seem to stay away from you. I even blamed you for my lack of control, because no one sees me that way you have. No one, Crystal. I had to get control over myself. And that meant control over my addiction to you.”
“I squeeze my eyes shut as Crystal’s voice stirs an odd sensation in my chest that somehow eases the ache in my guy. Desire rockets through me, and I tell myself it’s about fucking and control. I need it, and she’s my safe one outside of the club.”
Book Club Questions for If I Were You
1) If you found a journal would you read it?
2) Why would Mark — a smart man – hire Sara without checking references? What do you think his motives were?
3) Do you think Chris and Mark were once friends and if so why?
4) Why if Sara was rich growing up has she not traveled? What clue do you think this might be to her past?
5) Who do you think is the man from the journal and why?
6) What do you think happened to Rebecca?
7) Do you think it’s okay for two consenting adults to participate in a BDSM style relationship?
8) How do characters change or evolve throughout the course of the story? What events trigger such changes?
9) Did certain parts of the book make you uncomfortable? If so, why did you feel that way?
10) How did you experience the book? Were you engaged immediately, or did it take you a while to “get into it”? How did you feel reading it—amused, sad, disturbed, confused, bored…?
11) If you could ask the author a question, what would you ask? Have you read other books by the same author? If so how does this book compare? If not, does this book inspire you to read others?
PART THREE
The Careless Whispers Series
Introduction, Reading Order and Sexy Scene
Series Introduction
Denial is book one in the Careless Whispers series—which follows the story of Sara’s best friend Ella who is found to have gone missing during the Inside Out series. Please note: while it would be beneficial, it is not necessary to read the Inside Out series before you read the Careless Whispers series.
About
Ella Ferguson awakes alone in Italy, unsure of who she is, and a gorgeous man has claimed her as his own. He's tall, dark, and sexy, with money and power, the kind of man who makes a girl want to be possessed. And he does possess her, whispering wicked wonderful promises to her, stealing her trust and her heart. Soon though, the past finds her, yanking her from a cocoon of passion and safety. Everything is not how it seems. The truth will shatter her world, but it can set her free, if it doesn't destroy her first.
Careless Whispers SERIES Reading Order
Denial
Demand
Surrender
Check out the Careless Whispers series:
https://lisareneejones.com/connected-books/careless-whispers
Sexy excerpt from Denial (book one)
His hand slides to my back and he leans me toward the table, forcing me to catch myself on my elbows. He holds me there, his body cradling mine, his lips a breath from a touch. “I won’t let you fall.”
“I know,” I say, and I do now. Beyond time and reason, I trust this man.
His mouth brushes mine and then trails down my jaw, slowly teasing a path to my ear, where he whispers, “I’m not going to claim to own you the way he did.” He flattens his hands on my belly, possessiveness in the touch. “I’m just going to make you wish I did.”
My lips part with the erotic promise, and he is already kissing me, licking into my mouth, his tongue a sultry, seductive promise that he can make good on his vow. And while I do not wish anyone to own me again, I want what he offers in a way that defies reason.
He nips my lips and licks away the sweet ache, and somehow I feel that lick between my thighs where I am already wet and aching. His whiskers rasp on my cheek, down my neck to my shoulder, a wicked burn that is torment and pleasure at the same time. Like he is. His hands settle on my waist, lingering there, teasing me with all the places they could go, until finally he is caressing my body, up and down, a slow, sexy, torturous exploration.
He pinches my nipples again and he is not gentle, but I do not seem to want gentle. My sex clenches and my knees crush his hips. His lips curve to a small, satisfied smile that is wickedly sexy, and rawly male. He leans in and licks one of my throbbing nipples, sending a shiver down my spine, and I arch upward, the table biting into my elbows, but I do not care. He is sucking me, dragging deep on the knotted peak, and pleasure tingles through my nerve endings, my sex, forcing my legs to squeeze his hips again.
My arms tremble with my weight and he responds without me asking, moving closer and laying me on top of the table. My spine flattens on the hard surface and he lingers above me. “I want more.”
“More what?”
“Everything,” he says, his lips nuzzling my ear as he repeats,
“Everything, Ella. Can I have it?”
The question affects me, but not as much as the way he waits, genuinely seeking my approval. He takes power but somehow gives it to me as well, and this is freedom to me, safety. Things I do not think I have often felt in my life. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
He inhales as if my approval surprises and pleases him, as if it is a gift he relishes, not a property he owns. And it is then that I give myself the freedom to just let go, the muscles in my body easing in ways they hadn’t before. I do give him everything. His mouth caresses mine and he whispers, “That’s what
I wanted,” as if he knows I’ve made that decision.
And already his lips are traveling down my neck, tongue flicking here and there, his hand caressing, squeezing my breast. He assaults my senses with pleasure, touching me, kissing me, driving away my memories and enemies. His whiskers rasp my belly, his lips pressing to the center, his tongue flickering into my navel, and I tremble with the silent promise it will soon be where I want it to be. His hand flattens over my sex,
inches lower until he is flicking my clit, back and forth, back and forth.
He lifts my legs to his shoulders, spreading me wide, and I am vulnerably his, and aroused beyond belief. He lowers his head, his breath a warm tease on my sensitive places, and I grip the edge of the table, bracing myself for what is to come. He laps at my nub, the barely there touch, and I am breathing hard, wishing I could touch him, incapable of moving, and the muscles of my sex clench so tightly it hurts.
He licks my clit and I am both relieved and on edge in the same moment, ready for more, for that everything he has promised me. Another lick follows. Yes, please, more, I think, and as if he’s heard my silent plea, he gives it to me. His hands slide beneath my backside and he lifts me to his mouth, and it is nothing shy of sweet bliss when his mouth closes down around me. He sucks, drawing deeply on my sensitive flesh, lapping at me, licking me again in all the right ways and right places. I am panting and moaning, and I barely recognize the sounds as my own. Sensations ripple through me and when his fingers slide inside me, I am undone, tumbling into orgasm. The intensity jerks my body and I lose all time and space. It’s escape, sweet, blissful escape, and he keeps me there, slowly bringing me down, the licks of his tongue growing softer, slower. Until I am sated, limp, and he pulls me back onto his lap, my head resting on his shoulder, his hand flattening between my shoulder blades.
“Everything or nothing,” he whispers, and this time, I do not believe he is talking about orgasms and pleasure.
I lean back to look at him, and the idea of what we are becoming is a sweet seduction, threatened by the emptiness of my past. “What if everything is too much?”
He drags two fingers down my cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t have a ceiling. We’re going to find out if you do.”