I can't sleep. It's been hours since I returned to my room, and I can't stop thinking about Emma. The way she looked in her dress, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. The way she looked when I was feeding her cake.

God, the way she moaned when she ate it. It was like nothing I'd ever heard before. And her lips, those perfect, full lips. The way they wrapped around the fork, taking each bite. It was enough to drive any man crazy.

My cock is aching, desperate for release. But it's not just physical. I'm drawn to her in a way I can't explain. It's not just her looks or her body. It's something deeper. Something I can't ignore.

I roll over, checking the clock on the nightstand. It's nearly three in the morning. I should be asleep, but all I can think about is Emma.

I should have gotten her phone number, or at least her room number. But it's too late for that now. Tomorrow, we'll both be leaving. Off to our separate lives.

I close my eyes, trying to clear my head. But all I can see is her face, her blue eyes staring into mine.

With a sigh, I give in to my desire. My hand snakes down, gripping my cock. I imagine her beside me, her soft skin pressed against mine. Her hand stroking my length, her lips kissing my neck.

I imagine grabbing her by the hair, pressing my cock between those sweet lips. Fucking her face with no restraint. Pushing in until she's gagging, spit dripping down her chin, mascara running down her face.

My strokes become faster, more urgent. My fantasy intensifies. My release builds, the pressure mounting. And as I reach the peak, I can't hold back any longer. My orgasm crashes over me, and I imagine filling her mouth, spilling onto her tongue.

I lie there, panting, spent. The fantasy fading, reality setting in. But even then, my desire for her is still strong. My need is overwhelming.

With a sigh, I sit up. I get out of bed and clean myself off. I throw on a pair of sweatpants and grab a bottle of whiskey. I make my way out onto the balcony. The cool night air feels good against my heated skin.

I take a swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning my throat. I need to get a grip. This is insane. I don't know this woman. Hell, she's practically family now.

But there's something about her. Something I can't deny. And even though I know it's wrong, I can't seem to stop myself.

I finish the bottle, tossing it aside. My mind is still racing, images of Emma flashing before my eyes. I have to find a way to get her out of my system.

I go back inside and grab my phone. I pull up the dating app and start scrolling through the profiles. I swipe through one after another, not feeling any spark. But then, I stop.

Emma's profile.

She's there, in front of me. A picture of her looking straight into the camera. She's wearing a low-cut shirt, showing off her ample cleavage. She's smiling, her lips red and pouty.

I wonder if this is an active account. If she's actually using the app. I swipe through her pictures. One is of her in a bikini, lying on the beach. Her breasts are spilling out of the top, her nipples straining against the fabric. Another is of her in a tank top and jeans, her curves on full display. The next one is a picture of her in what looks like a college study room. She's sitting at a table, books spread out in front of her. She's biting her lip, her hair falling around her face. She's absolutely stunning.

I can't resist. I swipe right. It isn't an instant match, but I didn't think it would be. But she'll see it soon, and she'll make a decision.

I toss the phone aside and try to get some sleep.

I was hoping to run into Emma before I left for my flight, but no such luck. I gather my bags and make my way down to the lobby. I'm running late and I have to catch a taxi to the airport.

I get in the cab and check my phone. Still no response from Emma. Maybe she doesn't use the app much. Maybe she doesn't want anything to do with me. She basically said as much, hadn't she?

I sigh, putting my phone away. There's nothing else I can do. The cab pulls up to the airport and I pay the driver.

"Have a nice day," the driver says, flashing me a smile.

"Thanks, you too," I reply, grabbing my bags.

I make my way through the airport, heading for the gate. It's crowded, but I manage to find a seat near the front. I pull out my phone, checking the time. There's still a few minutes before boarding starts.

I'm restless, unable to sit still. My thoughts keep drifting back to Emma. I can't stop thinking about her. It's insane, but I can't seem to get her out of my head.

"Attention passengers, flight 2118 will begin boarding in ten minutes," the intercom crackles to life.

I put my phone away and get ready to board.

The flight drags on forever, feeling more like a marathon than a quick hop. I tried buckling down to some work, hoping to knock out a few emails and maybe draft a report. But that plan fell through pretty quickly. Instead, I found myself glued to the window, mind wandering off into the clouds, pondering everything and nothing at the same time. By the time the wheels hit the tarmac, I'm practically bolting out of my seat, ready to stretch my legs and breathe something that doesn't smell like recycled air.

I snatch up my carry-on from the overhead bin, weaving through the slow-moving crowd to make a beeline for baggage claim. The moment I power up my phone, it erupts into life, buzzing and ringing in my hand. Office drama, no doubt.

"Ares Bradshaw," I answer, trying not to sound as tired as I feel.

"Mr. Bradshaw, it's Kasey from the office. How was your flight?"

"Survived it. Just touched down. What's going on?"

"The partners are asking for you. They need to see you immediately."

I can't help but rub the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of jet lag already. "Seriously? Can't it wait till tomorrow? I'm beat."

"They're insisting it's urgent."

Great. Just great. Doesn't matter that I'm the boss; when the partners call, you jump.

"Alright, I'm on my way," I concede with a heavy sigh, already dreading the meeting and the headache I know it'll bring.

I end the call and head towards the car rental, mentally preparing myself for whatever emergency has made them drag me in straight off a long flight.

Once I have a car, I head to the office. The traffic is terrible and it takes longer than expected. By the time I arrive, it's almost dark.

"Evening, Kasey," I greet the receptionist as I stride past her desk.

"Mr. Bradshaw, they've been waiting for you," she responds, with a glance at the clock.

"Thanks. You're still here? Thought you'd be home by now," I note, eyeing the late hour.

"Just leaving, Mr. Bradshaw," she assures me, grabbing her purse and standing up.

I head down the corridor and knock on the door before entering the lion's den.

"Come in," comes the response from inside.

Walking in, I'm greeted by the sight of the two partners seated at the conference table.

"Gentlemen," I acknowledge, taking a seat across from them.

"Ares, good of you to make it," Charles greets me, extending a hand. "How was your little vacation?"

I wouldn't call three days off to go to my brother's wedding a vacation. Especially since I only had to take one actual workday off, and even then, I worked remotely. But these guys have always had a different idea of what "work" is.

"Fine. Good to be back," I say, shaking his hand.

"Glad to hear it. Now, let's get down to business," Edward says, rubbing his hands together.

"We've received some concerning reports," Charles begins.

"Reports?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, sales reports. Missing money."

"That's impossible," I say, shaking my head.

"Well, there's something going on. Money is missing. We're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars," Edward says, crossing his arms.

"That can't be right," I say, feeling my heart race. "I look over the reports quarterly."

"Well, it's missing. So, we need to figure out where the hell it is and how to get it back," Charles says, his eyes narrowing.

"Let me look into it," I say, standing up. "I'll get to the bottom of this."

"See that you do," Edward says, his tone clipped. "Time is money."

"Of course," I reply, leaving the office.

What the hell is going on? Money doesn't just disappear. And if someone is stealing from the company, they're not doing a very good job at covering their tracks. I'll figure out who it is and what they're up to.

And then, there will be hell to pay.