Blackmail (Restless Motorcycle Club Romance) Read Online Free PDF

 
     

     
     
    I tried not to think about how much I needed this job - any job.
     
    It had been so long since I’d had so much as an interview that I was finding it tough to master the nervous shaking in my hands. The copy of my resume fluttered in my grasp until I put it down on the chair beside me and clutched my fists against my stomach, willing them to stop.
     
    “Jackie Maguire?” A buxom blonde poked her head through the door opposite. I tried not to hate her for her stunningly good looks and carefree attitude, everything that I was lacking at that moment. I didn’t quite succeed. “Mr. Hamilton will see you now.”
     
    I wanted to run away, convinced that I couldn’t pull this off. At least the crushing poverty and sense of impending financial doom was familiar, almost an old friend. Facing the unknown behind the door was a hell of a lot scarier. It would be impossible to ever forgive myself for coming this far and just giving up before the end, so I mustered my courage and dragged myself to my feet.
     
    It took until the threshold of the door out of the small waiting room before I remembered that I’d left my resume on the seat. “Oh no!”
     
    The secretary cocked her head to the side, confused as I ran back across the room and claimed the piece of paper with a small amount of black type printed on it - the sum of all job experience in my short life.
     
    “Sorry,” I said, chagrined smile on my face. “Almost forgot my resume.”
     
    The blonde rolled her eyes and turned back through the door to lead me to the interview.
     
    Geez, what’s her problem? The silent rebuke served to double the hot nervousness that raced along my limbs, making it difficult to even walk. Pull yourself together, Jackie. It’s just an interview. You used to be really good at these, back in the day. Just be cool, try to relax. It was easier said than done. My expertise at interviews was a long time ago, back in high school, when I was fresher faced and cuter, and had a nicer butt than I did now. I wasn’t naive enough to think that hadn’t played a part in my previous successes.
     
    Our final destination was only across the hall from the room in which I’d been waiting. The secretary held open another door but didn’t say anything further. Thinly veiled contempt radiated at me from the other woman, and I had a feeling that more than one of us thought that I was going to completely bomb the interview.
     
    I was so involved in my own thoughts that the sight of Mr. Hamilton behind a wide oaken desk audibly took my breath away. Luckily he wasn’t looking up or else he would have caught the way that my jaw dropped open and feet stumbled against each other as my brain lost all ability to control my body, struck by the sight of the man in a simple white shirt and jeans.
     
    He’s so manly!
     
    It was too much of an understatement, even for the privacy of my own thoughts. There were some black tattoos on his forearms, but I couldn’t see what they were of. The testosterone practically oozed out of his skin. It was obvious that he didn’t care about his appearance in the way that a lot of the men in this city did, but that didn’t mean he looked like a slob.
     
    He looked good enough to eat. The sharply defined jaw carried sexy stubble; just enough to make my loins throb as I wondered what it would feel like running along the inside of my thigh.
     
    Then he looked up from his paperwork, and despite all of my efforts a little gasp escaped my lips.
     
    His eyes were dark, and stormy, and wild. They told the truth of a man with a fiercely raging masculinity and barely contained strength; a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
     
    “Sit,” he said, the command in his voice overwhelming and almost enough to make me collapse on the ground at his feet.

 
     
    The woman’s face was surprised; her mouth rounded in a little “O” that sent a tug straight to my groin. It was a sexy look, all the more so because it was so