Carly's Punishment (Submitting to the Billionaire) by Alicia Roberts Page A

she’d run into someone from work who’d recognize him as a client.
    As she went about her day, Carly tried not to think about the offer. But a tiny voice inside her head whispered, it’s just one drink. Maybe it was time for her to have some fun. But then another voice whispered, he’ll just leave tomorrow, and he’ll probably be a jerk.
    She decided that t here was no way she was going. But when her shift ended at five, Carly found herself rushing back to her apartment and changing into her highest heels and nicest top. I’m not doing this, her brain said, but her body had a mind of its own and her hands fluffed up her hair, pulled on some lipstick and grabbed her purse.

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Carly never went to the Recovery Room. It wasn’t her kind of place, she decided, it wasn’t the kind of place for regular folks who worked hard, made budgets and drove affordable cars.
    As she walked towards a table at the back, Carly felt woefully out of place. Unlike the other women there, her stilettos were from Payless, her makeup was from a drug-store, and her hair wasn’t styled by a man with a French-accented name. The differences were subtle, but they all added up. 
    Carly hid away at her table, trying to ignore the glances she was getting. She was a few minutes early, and she tried to stop herself from thinking about why she’d turned up.
    But before she could curse herself mentally for coming to the bar, she glanced up to see the Dark-Haired Man coming towards her table.
    Their eyes locked as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “I knew you would come,” he said, his voice thick and low.
    Carly shook her head. “I wasn’t going to. It’s against the rules where I work …”
    “ And yet you’re here. You can’t deny this connection we have.”
    He smiled at her, his eyes deep and mysterious, and Carly felt a warmth spread through her bones.
    “I don’t e ven know your name.”
    “ I’m Jeff.” As if on cue, a waitress appeared with two champagne flutes on a tray. He nodded, and the girl placed the flutes in front of them. “I thought we’d celebrate our first drink with champagne.” He raised the glass in a mock toast, and Carly raised an eyebrow and clinked.
    “To our first drink,” he said.
    “And our last,” Carly replied, and took a small sip. It was smooth, sweet without being cloying, and the one glass probably cost more than her weekly grocery bill.
    Jeff chuckled. “Why are you so scared of the Hotel policies?” He slid a hand over hers, his palm hot over the back of her hand. Carly forced herself not to gasp, not to pull her hand away. “Don’t you ever disobey the rules? Be a little bad?”
    He pulled his hand away, his thumb stroking her finger. Carly bit her lips and shook her head.
    “Really? Because I think you’re tired of being good all the time. I think you need to be a little bad.”
    Something churned inside her stomach . When she looked up into his eyes, they were dark and suggestive. Seeing his glance, feeling his hot touch, she suddenly wanted to throw caution to the wind, to be just as bad as she could be.
    The words were out before she could stop herself. “How do you mean?”
    Jeff leaned forward, and dropped his voice. “I think you need to let loose, forget the rules. Bring yourself pleasure, intense and dark.”
    His voice was hypnotic, sexual, implying a joy she’d never felt.
    Carly shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean. That’s not …” Her voice drifted away in confusion.
    Jeff leaned back and smiled. “You don’t know who you are . You don’t know how amazing you are, and how attractive. You don’t even know that’s why everyone keeps glancing at you.”
    Carly shook her head. “No. They’re looking because I don’t fit it. I’m not like them, my shoes and hair aren’t right.”
    Jeff laughed softly. “You ’re not wearing diamonds and designer clothes like the other women here, but they all envy you. They don’t hold a candle