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  Big Shot

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHORS

  CARLY PHILLIPS

  ERIKA WILDE

  Copyright © CP Publishing 2017 and © Janelle Denison, Inc. 2017

  Kobo Edition

  Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

  Formatting: BB eBooks

  New York Times Bestselling Authors Carly Phillips and Erika Wilde bring you a new fun, flirty, standalone romance.

  Fall in love with your next Book Boyfriend . . .

  Wes Sinclair is a notorious heart-breaker, a hot as sin bad boy with a panty-dropping smile no woman can resist. Except for his best friend’s little sister and business adversary, Natalie Prescott, who seems immune to his flirtatious charms. While she’s become a permanent fixture in his dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies, she wants nothing to do with him, or his seductive promises. Challenge accepted. His goal? To bring her to her knees, make her beg, and show her just how good being bad can be.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thank You

  About the Authors

  Chapter One

  Wes Sinclair tossed his cell phone onto his desk, dropped his head into his hands, and pressed the base of his palms against his eyes in a futile attempt to stem the sudden throbbing in his temples. “I can’t believe she fucking did it again,” he muttered irritably to himself.

  “Who did what again?”

  The amused voice of Connor Prescott, one of his business partners, only spiked Wes’s displeasure. So much for being alone and being able to vent his frustration. Instead, he lowered his hands and glared at his good friend, who was also directly related to the person Wes was currently annoyed with.

  He watched as Connor casually sauntered into the office, the dust on his jeans and boots a good indication that he’d just come in from working on a jobsite. “The who is your sister. The what is stealing yet another million-dollar listing right out from under me,” Wes snapped, even more perturbed that Natalie Prescott could push his buttons more than any other woman ever had, and make him rock hard at the same time.

  Not that she knew what kind of effect she had on his dick, and she never would. Because one, she was his best friend’s little sister and he’d known her most of his life. And two, he’d never give her that kind of leverage or smug satisfaction when they were business adversaries in an industry where any weakness was exploited. And clearly, Natalie had no qualms about playing dirty. This was the third real estate listing she’d yanked right out from under him in the past month, with either client incentives or a higher bid on the property for sale.

  Connor sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, not bothering to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What’s the matter, Sinclair? Is your ego so fragile that you can’t handle a bit of healthy competition from a girl?”

  “Fuck you, Prescott.” Wes followed that up with a middle-finger salute, which only made his friend laugh. “This has nothing to do with my ego.” He had a reputation to uphold as one of the top luxury real estate agents in Chicago, and Natalie was threatening his status. Not to mention his sanity. And okay, his goddamn ego.

  He’d worked his ass off the past six years to build Premier Realty into a powerhouse firm along with his three good friends—another real estate broker and two other guys, including Connor, who previously worked construction but now flipped high-end, multimillion-dollar houses under the Premier Realty umbrella. Wes had industry awards to attest to his business acumen, a stable of high-profile clients any broker would envy, and he was the one who usually swooped in and snagged properties from unsuspecting real estate agents. And now, one single woman was starting to make him doubt his own abilities.

  Wes leaned back in his chair and gave Connor a direct look. “Is your sister trying to prove some kind of point by aggravating the shit out of me like this? By coming in at the last minute with a higher bid that my client can’t top on my own fucking listing?”

  “I’m sure she is, and it’s your own damn fault,” his friend said with a shrug. “She wanted to work for Premier, remember? I told you she’d be an asset to the firm. But if I remember correctly, you not only said no but set down the gauntlet with an adamant hell no.”

  Wes inwardly winced. He was totally guilty of voting hell no on that particular issue, and he’d held firm on his decision despite Connor’s strong, valid arguments in Natalie’s favor. He’d counter-argued that it wasn’t smart to mix family with business, that it was difficult to keep things impartial and make crucial decisions that could affect one family member over the other, that didn’t result in hard feelings or resentment all the way around.

  Wes knew of companies that had split or gone under because of family disputes, and he’d likened the situation to his parents’ divorce. The split between his mother and father hadn’t been amicable. Not even a little. The anger and bitterness had caused so much tension between Ethan and Andrea Sinclair that it had forced friends and relatives to choose sides. Lines were drawn, and no matter who was to blame for the dissolution of the marriage—which had been, hands down, Wes’s father’s fault—his mother had been the one who’d lost the majority of friends they’d made in the twenty-two years they’d been together.

  Wes’s mother had been devastated by the loss, and because Wes had been so pissed at his father for being such an asshole, the entire situation was contentious at best. There was no repairing the damage Ethan had inflicted on his wife and son and no bridging the gap between two angry families. There was no way that Wes wanted to risk that kind of division in a working environment with his best friends.

  In the end, Wes’s argument had prevailed, which was a damn good thing because he didn’t think Connor would appreciate the other reason he didn’t want Natalie around. Hey, I know we’re best friends and all, but I want to fuck your sister, and watching her strut around the office in her tight-ass skirts and fuck-me heels will have me sporting a permanent hard-on and spending the day fantasizing about bending her over my desk for a slow, hard, afternoon screw. Umm, no. The only thing a filthy confession like that would get Wes was a black eye, or worse, and he wasn’t about to risk being castrated by Natalie’s protective older brother. He liked that part of his male anatomy way too much.

  Bottom line, gorgeous, feisty Natalie Prescott was too much of a distraction to his dick, and having her in his space every day would drive him crazy. It was as simple, and as difficult, as that.

  Wes exhaled a harsh breath and rerouted his thoughts back to his conversation with Connor. “Every partner in this company knows the reasons I said no to your sister, and you all agreed to them.” Okay, so he’d coerced and pressured the guys a bit to save his own sanity, but in the end, they had agreed. “I didn’t realize it would cause a fucking
vendetta between Natalie and me.” Because that’s exactly what it felt like.

  Connor rubbed his hands down his jean-clad thighs, that small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again. “It’s not about a vendetta or revenge. You know that Natalie just likes a little competition, and she’s damn good at selling real estate.”

  “I’m better,” Wes replied, and immediately realized just how juvenile the words sounded after they’d left his mouth. What was he, in high school?

  “Not lately you aren’t,” Connor said meaningfully, the smartass tone of his voice indicating he was thoroughly enjoying the fact that his sister was giving Wes a run for the money in the real estate market. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that if you aren’t careful, Natalie is going to surpass your 132 million in sales last year and knock you off your prestigious pedestal for one of Chicago’s best of the best brokers.”

  And she’d no doubt take great fucking delight in taking him down. Being Connor’s best friend and growing up around little Natalie Prescott, he’d witnessed just how competitive she could be and how much she liked to win. Especially when it came to him. Whether it had been a game of cards or Monopoly with Wes and Connor or racing on their bikes to see who got to the Circle K down the street first, she’d always strived to beat the boys. And when she did, she always made sure to rub Wes’s nose in the fact that she’d trumped him.

  Now, as adults, the business friction between them was like a tangible thing—oh, and did he forget to mention the sexual tension they’d both been deliberately skirting for the past few years only added fuel to their rivalry?—and he needed to figure out a way to diffuse the situation before his stress levels shot through the roof.

  “Natalie knocking me off any pedestal isn’t going to happen,” he said confidently.

  “Then you’d better step up your game,” Connor said, humor lacing his voice. “It would be kind of embarrassing if my sister, who you refused to let work here, kicked your ass and surpassed your sales record.”

  Wes rolled his shoulders, trying to replace his frustration with a semblance of calm. He glanced at the clock on the wall, relieved to see it was nearly five. God, he needed a drink. A strong one to wash away the sting of defeat of losing his big deal today to Natalie Prescott.

  “Want to head out to the Popped Cherry with me and Max for a drink?” Wes asked, inviting Connor to the trendy bar in downtown Chicago that they all liked to frequent.

  “Not tonight,” he replied with a shake of his head as he stood up. “I’ve got a dinner meeting at six thirty with the city inspector who’s been assigned to the Amber Glen project, and I need to head home to shower and change before I go.”

  “Better you than me,” Wes teased, knowing how boring those kind of dinner engagements could be. “I’ll be sure to have a drink for you.”

  Connor chuckled. “Yeah, you do that.”

  A few relaxing drinks, and maybe if Wes was lucky, he’d run into one of his occasional hook-ups and forget all about Natalie Prescott.

  At least for a few hours, anyway.

  Chapter Two

  It was difficult for Wes to forget about his nemesis for an evening when she was at the same bar, celebrating her impressive sale today—the one she’d essentially stolen from him. She was with two of her good friends, Heather and Chloe, and the three of them were sitting at a table in a corner, laughing and enjoying a few rounds of drinks. Natalie’s back was to him, and while Wes had caught Heather and Chloe casting furtive glances his way, the sexy thief had yet to acknowledge him since he’d arrived with Max almost an hour ago.

  Then again, to be fair, he’d deliberately avoided her as well, spending his time mingling with his own friends and chatting with Logan and Tate, the owners of the bar. He’d already caught the eye of a curvy redhead across the way, and he was certain if he approached the woman, the flirtatious invitation he’d seen in her gaze could easily become a sure thing.

  Shockingly, his dick wasn’t interested in what the redhead was offering, despite his earlier reasons for being here. The problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about, and looking at, Natalie—from the corner of his eye, of course. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see what he already knew was a beautiful face, because her backside provided an equally stunning and arousing view. Her long, thick, dark brown hair fell halfway down her back in soft waves, and his gaze traveled all the way south to the heart-shaped ass that sat perched on the barstool. Thanks to the formfitting dark gray skirt she wore, he was able to admire the slight flare to her hips and the rounded curve of her distracting bottom. Her long, slender legs were crossed beneath the table, and despite Natalie’s known competitive streak, in business she’d always presented herself as a prim and proper good girl.

  And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he’d always found the intriguing mix of her tenacity and softness a huge fucking turn-on. Aggressive and ambitious in business and sweet and amenable to his dirty demands in the bedroom. Yeah, he liked the way that sounded. The thought of her dropping to her knees in front of him on command made his cock twitch with way too much enthusiasm and interest. Far more than the redhead, or any other woman in the place, had generated tonight.

  Of course, Natalie was the only woman in the bar he wouldn’t dare touch, no matter how much she tempted him. She was off-limits, forbidden fruit, and all that clichéd crap. But Jesus, if she wasn’t his best friend’s little sister, he would have already coaxed her into his bed, if only to get her out of his system so he wasn’t so damned fixated with what he couldn’t have. And since he wasn’t used to not getting exactly what he wanted, it only added to her appeal.

  “So, we’ve been here for over an hour,” Max, the other broker in the firm, said conversationally as he leaned an arm against the bar, where they were standing at the far end, a beer bottle dangling between his fingers. “How much longer are you going to try and pretend that Natalie, who pretty much crushed you at your own game today, isn’t here, too?”

  Wes chose to ignore Max’s comment about today’s defeat and feigned surprise instead. “She’s here? I had no idea.”

  “I’m going to have to call bullshit on that one,” Max said with a knowing laugh. “You do realize that the civil thing for you to do would be to go over there and congratulate her on the Davenport sale today, right?”

  “It was my goddamn listing,” he grumbled irritably. And he preferred not to eat any crow tonight.

  “I don’t get what the problem is,” Max said, studying Wes too intently. “We still made a hefty commission on our end because it was our listing.”

  “I don’t like forfeiting any of our commission to the competition.” He tossed back the last of his drink and set his glass on the countertop with a loud clack.

  Max held his gaze. “She didn’t have to be our competition.”

  Jesus. Refusing to have this argument for the second time today, Wes decided that playing nice with Natalie would be much safer than Max digging deeper into Wes’s true reasons for saying no to her working at Premier Realty.

  “Fine. I’ll go and congratulate her.” He sounded like he wanted to do anything but that.

  Max shook his head, clearly trying not to laugh at Wes’s poor sportsmanship. “Maybe you ought to have a slice of humble pie before you head over there.”

  “Don’t be an asshole, Maximilian,” he said, using his friend’s full name, which the other man hated because it sounded too pretentious, and truthfully, Max was anything but pompous or conceited despite coming from an extremely wealthy family.

  “Then don’t be a fucking pussy,” he shot right back. “Seriously, Wes. You’ve known Natalie most of your life. You’re best friends with her brother. You can’t let shit like this get in the way of that friendship. For fuck’s sake, go and congratulate her, and sound like you mean it.”

  Wes hated to admit it, but Max was right. He was being ridiculous and overly reactive about the entire situation, especially when Wes reminded himself, once again, that h
e was the one who’d held firm on the no-mixing-business-with-family rule. Except he couldn’t shake the way their last few real estate interactions had felt as though Natalie was deliberately goading him. Maybe if he acted unaffected by it all, she’d back off and she’d stop trying to one-up him. It was certainly worth a shot.

  He glanced back over to Natalie just as her two other friends were leaving the table. It appeared they were saying their good-byes, and while Heather and Chloe made their way to the entrance, Natalie remained behind, texting with someone on her cell phone. The perfect opportunity to approach Natalie presented itself while she was alone, maybe even a little more accessible, and there wasn’t an audience around to witness their conversation. Which meant no gossip between the three girls when he walked away from the table if he said or did something stupid. Which was always a possibility.

  “I’ll be right back,” Wes said to Max, and after his friend lifted his beer in a silent toast of encouragement, Wes headed over to Natalie’s table. Just as he came up behind her, her phone rang and she picked it up with a cheerful, “Hi, Richard.”

  Shit. Wes came to an abrupt stop and thought about quickly pivoting around before Natalie saw him so he didn’t interrupt her conversation, but she turned her head at that same moment and their gazes met, her bright blue eyes widening in surprise when she saw it was him.

  “Sorry.” He mouthed the words to her, suddenly feeling awkward when moments ago he’d been so confident. “I’ll come back when you’re off the phone.”

  She shook her head as she listened to whoever Richard was—a boyfriend?—talking on the other end of the line, then she pointed at the seat opposite her. “Sit down. I’ll just be a sec,” she whispered to Wes.

  Not wanting to be rude—he was trying to be a nice guy, remember?—Wes slid onto the barstool across from her. As he waited for Natalie to finish her call, he couldn’t help but notice how animated she was with this Richard person, how excited her voice was as she spoke to him.