Crossing the Line Read Online Free

he is. I want to congratulate his parents. “So
what are you having? I think I’m going to have the vegetable lasagne.”
    He looks over his menu, smirking at me.
“Veggie lasagne. Don’t you like meat?” His eyebrows shoot up suggestively. How
charming.
    I try to keep a straight face. “Not that
much, no.”
    “Well I’m getting the steak. Maybe you can
try mine and see if that changes your mind.”
    Whoa, flirting back. It doesn’t take a
genius to figure out the double meaning there. I’ve never had a job before, but
I’m pretty certain we have already crossed over the professional relationship
line. I shrug, not wanting to stop the flirting yet. “Hmm, maybe I will.”
    He chuckles and nods to the waiter, gaining
his attention. I bite my lip. Muscles, muscles, muscles. I wonder if he’s just
a flirty person or if he wants to screw my brains out too. God the second one,
please.
    Mentally shaking my head at myself, I
frown. I have a one-track mind like a fourteen-year old boy after feeling his
first boob when I’m around him. There’s something about Aden that makes me feel
alive. He’s all man, from the strong muscular body, that sexy smirk, those deep
come to bed eyes, down to the determined businessman. He radiates masculinity
and screams I will fuck you until you can’t walk, and I – for the first
time ever – want just that.
    I want a man that doesn’t shoot his load in
five minutes, roll over and fall asleep. I want someone that doesn’t think a
quick honk of the breasts and two fingers for five seconds is adequate
foreplay. Is that really too much to ask for?
    “So, Amelie, what makes you want to work
and leave behind the life of privilege, expensive cars and five holidays a
year?”
    “Please call me Millie.” I frown. “But not
in front of my parents.” He nods and grins in amusement. “I just hate the idea
of living off of someone else. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I will most
definitely go insane being home all the time, and when I buy a house and a car
I want to know that I’ve bought it.”
    “So you don’t like the idea of being a
housewife?”
    I shake my head. “No way! I mean it’s fine
if that’s what makes you happy, but it’s not for me. Everyone should have a
choice.”
    “You really want to move out and live on
your own?”
    “Yes. As soon as I have enough money I’m
gone.” I have a very, very large trust fund, but I don’t want to use it. I
won’t be making it myself if I use Daddy’s money to live on my own. I’m leaving
the money where it is and have already opened a new account for my wages. I’m
starting from the beginning like most people have to.
    He nods and briefly bites his lip. “I
understand that. My only choice growing up was working for my dad. I hated
knowing exactly what I would be doing right up until the day I die. I felt like
I had no options and no control over my own life. I rebelled and took off for
six months after University. Dad eventually found me, and we worked out a
compromise. I was going to start on my own, but in a similar line as him, we
could help each other out. I’ve always been passionate about music and
discovering new artists, so a record label seemed like the perfect thing for me
to do. I love it.”
    I smile as I see in his eyes just how
passionate he is about what he does. That’s what I want to find. I want a job I
love. “I really admire that,” I say and he smiles a boyish smile that makes my
heart skip a beat.
    “It’s important to me that I build
something up for myself. I don’t want to be handed anything. But going on my
own means that I don’t have the finances to start up big. Don’t get me wrong,
we’re doing well but without backing the label won’t grow as quickly as I’d
like. We’re turning down too much talent because we can’t accommodate it. I’ve
been speaking to a few people in Dublin, entrepreneurs that want to try
something new without much risk or effort.” Sounds like men