Ace of Spades by Elle Bright Read Free Book Online Page B

am.”
             
“Hey, I liked your glasses,” Jackson protested with a grin.
             
“Well, you were the only one,” Melody said. “They were more effective than any
chastity belt.
             
Jackson’s brows shot straight up. “Does that mean you’re still a---”
              “Next question.”
             
Jackson smirked at her. “Fine, be that way. Are you dating anyone?”
             
Melody smiled back. “Actually, yes. His name is
Richard and we’ve been going out for two years.”
             
Brows still raised, Jackson looked less than impressed. “ OMG, has he like held your hand and everything?” he teased in a Valley-girl
falsetto.
             
“He’s done a lot more than that,” Melody blurted, scrambling for something to
wipe the amusement off his handsome face. “And for your information, he is
perfectly adequate in bed.” Heat filled her cheeks as soon as the words were
out.
             
Jackson let out a bark of laughter. “A glowing endorsement, if ever I’ve heard
one, Mel.”
             
If her cheeks were hot before, they were on fire now. “What’s wrong with that?”
             
Jackson grinned and leaned toward her, lowering his voice as though about to
tell her a secret. “Word to the wise, sweetheart, no man ever wants to be described as ‘adequate’ in bed. It’s emasculating.”
             
Heat filled his eyes, “And if you were in my bed, I would show you exactly how
inadequate ‘adequate’ really is.”
             
His gaze held hers captive and words like toe-curling , earth-shattering ,
and mind-blowing came to mind. But Jackson was fire and she had no
desire to get burned. Adequate, was fine with her. She cleared her throat.
             
“So, you still haven’t told me what you want?”
             
“What do I want?” he repeated, cocking a dark brow at her. “You.”
             
“Me?” Melody squeaked.
             
Jackson chuckled. “Relax, beautiful. I’m not propositioning you.” His searing
blue eyes burned a trail down her bosom. “Yet,” he added with a mischievous
grin. “I want to offer you a job. Easy work, six figures, benefits.”
             
He fished a white business card from his pocket and tossed it on the table
between them. Mel made no movement to pick it up.
              “A job?” She croaked. “Jackson, I’m not a prostitute.”
             
“Last I checked , UC San Diego didn’t have an MBA
program with an emphasis on prostitution.”
             
Melody gaped at him. He smirked back. He’d done his homework on her. “No, they
don’t,” she mumbled.
             
“So, needless to say, an MBA wouldn’t suit my needs in that department,” he
grinned. She tried to ignore the way his smile made her heart tap-dance a lively
cadence.
             
“What are you looking for then?” Melody asked, filled with skepticism. What use
could a rock star have for an MBA on his staff?
              “A personal assistant.”
             
Melody laughed at that. “Jackson, I did NOT go to graduate school to fetch your
coffee and pick up your dry cleaning.”
             
 “Maybe personal assistant is the wrong verbiage.”  He waved his hand
in the air as though conjuring up a better phrase. “More of a
business manager. Someone to supervise my staff, manage my finances, oversee my time, and keep me out of trouble.”
             
“You don’t need a business manager, Jackson, you need a babysitter,” Melody
sighed.
             
“Then you’re perfect for the job,” he reasoned. “You used to babysit a lot as a
teenager.”
             
“Small children, not grown men who are addicted sex and drugs,” Melody
protested.
             
“And don’t forget rock and roll,” he