The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Thirty Six: I've Gone Bananas!

I, Leslie King, after years of being pure (at least mentally), have finally had my first wet dream. And hearing the words "Leslie King" and "wet dream" together in a sentence makes my skin crawl.

Why? Well, let me tell you why.

Firstly, amongst having this certain type of dream, I woke up to find my hand down my pants pleasuring my sacred woman box...for the first time ever. I know, it's hard to believe—a twenty-seven-year -old woman of quite open minded standings and I have never quenched my curiosity on what my own fingers feel like down there (let alone what another man's fingers feel like down there). And fortunately...or unfortunately, I have no recollection of what the sensation felt like; I only remember the discovery of my hand where it wasn't supposed to be. However, I'm sure I enjoyed it, because I awoke flush faced, sweaty, and plagued with a feeling I have never even felt before.

Secondly, this is my first wet dream that I have ever had, as stated before. And this is the second to last reason as to why I feel like the filthiest person on this planet. Or at least in Seattle. Because the last reason as to why my skin is currently crawling, is the reason why I'm lifeless on the edge of my bed staring at the platter of breakfast go cold in front of me.

The man I dreamt about—the man who took me on his bedside table soaking wet and ravaging, was none other than Sebastian Harrison—the king of debauchery, my client, and the son of my boss.

Joy.

My phone is buzzing with a text, but I'm too scared to look at it in fear of it being Sebastian. God, anything I think about regarding Sebastian will probably come along with the memory of his considerable naked body in front of me. Shit!

In an attempt to get my mind off of "XXX—Dreamland" I scarf down everything that is on the platter in front of me—eggs, bacon, toast, the whole works. It isn't until my plate is clean and my orange juice is only mere drops in the pitcher that I realize I need to get dressed.

Or undressed.

Stop that!

I take a quick cold shower, get dressed in jeans and a comfortable blouse, and brew a batch of coffee for my mug. While the coffee steams up into the air, I receive another text message, only this time I actually read it:

"Hey, change of plans. We're heading out today," it says from Sarah.

I frown before replying, "Why?"

She responds quickly.

"Hospital visit didn't sit too well with the press. We need to make up another game plan. Sebastian and Lucas took one of the first flights out."

"Alright," I reply. "I'll be down in the lobby with my things."

"Okay."

I lock my phone and stare at the counter. Sebastian leaving early and not telling me about it? Not that it has anything to do with me wanting to know every step he takes, but if he makes a wrong move the press will be all over it more than they're all over him now.

You wish you were all over him, don't you?

"God dammit," I hiss and my faulty thoughts.

**

"Rise and Shine," Sarah says to me, eyes glued to her phone.

I set my bags down when I'm further into the lobby, lit by light pastel colored décor and spacious windows inviting the dim sunlight inside.

"Good morning," I smile awkwardly. "I didn't expect to be down here a couple of days ahead."

Sarah looks up at me, her almond shaped eyes dragged down my tiredness, "Yeah, but Sebastian figured there was no point in us being here for an extra amount of days."