He Was Her Ex-Brother-In-Law Chapter 01
The day Asher Blackwood set foot back on American soil, I signed on as his personal companion.
He was divorced. Three years of nothing. Everyone in our circle knew, the man had completely dried up.
But me? I was born with it in my blood. Pheromones that made men lose their goddamn minds.
If I wanted a man, no one stayed composed. No one.
“Mr. Blackwood. Your private session. Jacket, on or off?”
I walked into his bedroom in a pencil skirt and heels, the little silver remote already in my hand. I gave my skirt a tug. Just enough. The lace edge of my thigh-highs flashed.
Asher leaned against the headboard. “Get out.”
I didn’t move. I stepped closer instead and pressed the remote into his palm. “Are you sure? You should try it. Latest model.”
He seized my wrist, but his hand was shaking. “Sienna Sinclair. I’m your ex-brother-in-law.”
I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and smiled. “So? You’re single. I’m single. What’s the problem?”
Asher shoved me away and turned his back to me. “Don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”
I watched his rigid spine and smoothed down my skirt, taking my time. “Fine. Just make sure you wire the penalty fee, Mr. Blackwood. One and a half million. I expect it by tomorrow.”
By the time I reached the door, I could hear his ragged breathing from across the room.
I shut the door behind me, smiling.
Go ahead, Asher. You survived day one. Think you can last forever?
***
Early the next morning, Asher’s assistant called. “Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Blackwood says the contract stands.”
I lay in bed and laughed at the ceiling. “Perfect. But I have one condition.”
“Starting today, I’m moving into the Blackwood Estate. Round-the-clock personal service.”
Three seconds of silence on the other end. “Mr. Blackwood has agreed.”
I rolled out of bed, yanked open my closet, and stuffed the skimpiest silk slip dress I owned into my bag.
When I arrived at the estate, the housekeeper led me up to the third floor and opened the door across from the master suite.
“Ms. Sinclair, your room.”
I dropped my bag and went straight to Asher’s door. I knocked.
No answer.
I pushed it open.
He’d just stepped out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel around his waist.
I leaned against the doorframe and looked. Openly. Shamelessly.
“Enjoying the view?” His voice was ice.
“Not even close.” I walked toward him, smiling, and threw him a wink.
“I came to ask what kind of special service you’d like tonight, Mr. Blackwood.”
“A massage, maybe? Some aromatherapy?” I traced a finger in a slow circle across his chest. “Something more… private?”
Asher stepped backward. His tone shifted, something unreadable in it. “Sienna. I was married to your sister. You really want her finding out about this?”
I froze for a beat. Then my smile only widened. “My sister? She doesn’t get a say in what I do. She’s the one who ran off to Europe with some trust-fund heir. You signed the papers yourself. Remember?”
“So what is it? Scared of what people will say if you touch me? Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”
I reached for the top button of my blouse.
Asher’s expression hardened. “Get out.”
I pressed my palm flat against his chest and took a step forward instead.
He retreated. His lower back hit the nightstand. “Why are you running, Mr. Blackwood?”
I rose up on my toes, my mouth hovering right beside his ear. “Worried you can’t control yourself?”
My breath hit the shell of his ear.
His whole body locked up. I felt it.
Then his hands clamped around my waist. He lifted me clean off the floor, carried me out, and set me down in the hallway.
The door slammed in my face.
I rubbed my sore hips and grinned so wide my eyes crinkled.
Asher Blackwood. Pretending to be such a gentleman.
Late that night, I changed into my silk slip dress, poured a glass of red wine, and knocked on his door. “Nightcap to help you sleep, Mr. Blackwood.”
The door cracked open.
His hair was wet. Fresh cold shower. Obviously. “No, thank you.”
I pushed the door open and set the glass on his nightstand.
When I turned, the strap of my dress slipped, baring one shoulder.
Asher’s gaze landed on my collarbone. He pulled it away in under a second. “Sienna. What exactly do you want from me?”
I turned to face him. “What do I want? You really don’t know?”
I took his hand and pressed it against my waist.
His palm was scorching. “You turned me down three years ago. Told me you were off-limits. So what’s stopping you now?”
His grip tightened, reflexively.
I could practically smell the testosterone rolling off him.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Then his face went smooth and he pushed me away. “Get out. Now. Or I’m calling security.”
I sat down on his bed, tossed him a look, and pulled out the role-play outfits.
“How about this, Mr. Blackwood? A little roleplay. You choose the character. I’ll play along.”
Before I could finish, he scooped me up and dumped me in the hallway.
The door slammed.
I stood there fuming, yelling at the closed door. “Asher Blackwood! You just wait. I swear to God, I’m going to make you mine!”
