Hidden Agenda Read online

  Table of Contents

  Authors’ Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  HIDDEN AGENDA

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  by

  Bethany Jadin

  BOOK TWO of THE CODE

  Copyright 2018 Bethany Jadin. All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, without the authors’ permission, except for reviewers, who may quote short excerpts for the purpose of review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and action come from the authors’ imaginations and are presented as fiction. Any resemblance to real individuals, alive or deceased, as well as events or locations, is coincidental. All characters depicted are over the age of 18. This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Subscribe to Bethany Jadin’s newsletter for exclusive content such as sneak peeks of upcoming books, and to be notified when the next book releases! You’re also invited to join the private Facebook group Jadin’s Maidens, for readers who enjoy reverse harem stories and other unconventional romance.

  THE CODE SERIES

  1 Vested Interest

  2 Hidden Agenda

  3 Broken Process

  4 Risky Business

  5 Perfect Design

  Table of Contents

  * * *

  Authors’ Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  THE CODE SERIES

  Authors’ Note

  Hidden Agenda is book two of The Code, a reverse harem continuation series of five full-length novels with a steamy, action suspense storyline that builds in intensity with each book.

  Each book in the series picks up where the previous one left off and they must be read in order for the story to make sense. The entire series will be released before the end of Spring 2018 and all of the books can be purchased or preordered on Amazon.

  We hope you enjoy this story of Emma and her five smart, sexy men.

  1

  Trigg

  I breathe deep, trying to calm myself. Ever since Emma said the words ‘I’ll be up in thirty,’ I’ve been straightening up the penthouse and trying to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. My housekeeper comes on Tuesdays and Fridays, but over the weekend I’d managed to make a hell of a mess. There were projects and paperwork spread all over the place, dirty laundry on the bathroom floor, and running shoes scattered haphazardly in the foyer where I’d kicked them off as soon as I came in the front door.

  Not to mention, the scattered dry clods of mud which match the soles of Gunner’s big boots perfectly. I’m just glad he’s at a marketing symposium tonight, because I’m amped enough already without the big guy making quips about hot yoga and deep breathing.

  It took a few hurried minutes to put things back in order, but our penthouse is looking like less of a bachelor pad now.

  As soon as I’m out of the shower, I dry off and slip into my Prana yoga pants then pull on an old Marine t-shirt. I check my watch. Five minutes to spare. Just enough time to make sure my meditation space, which the guys have dubbed the Zen Den, is ready to go. It should be — it’s the one room I keep exceptionally tidy. No clutter to distract from my morning meditation or an evening session of tai chi. It’s my sanctuary away from daily stresses and the grind of work.

  Occasionally, I break out the elliptical machine or some free weights, especially when it’s pouring rain and I can’t go for my usual run. But that gear is currently stowed in the closet, where I also keep my yoga equipment — mats, blocks, wedges, and straps. I pull out two rolled-up yoga mats, which I set in the center of the room.

  The space is a study of soothing minimalism, with soft neutral colors, light bamboo flooring, low-slung chairs, and comfortable floor cushions. It’s perfectly presentable, but it doesn’t seem like enough. It needs a touch of romance.

  I’m not an idiot — or at least I hope I’m not. A request for a yoga session at this hour of the evening probably isn’t totally about yoga. But Emma’s more on the reserved side, so I don’t want to assume she’s looking for anything more than some helpful guidance. I’m happy to give her pointers on a couple positions that will relieve some stress from her muscles. I just can’t help but pray the positions will end up having less to do with yoga and more to do with me working out that tension of hers in other ways.

  Fumbling with the lighter, I set a stick of incense alight then blow it out, wispy tendrils of scented smoke curling into the air. I make sure it’s secured in its holder before walking to the long, narrow table on the other side of the room. It holds a half-dozen wide pillar candles, and I set the wicks aglow with dancing flames. Ah, that’s better already.

  I dim the lights and use the app on my phone to start a long-playing tantric soundtrack through the sound system built into the room. The music floats gently into the space from hidden speakers, the rhythmic drum beats and soft chimes adding just the right touch to the relaxing, sensual ambience I want to achieve.

  I’m unrolling the second yoga mat on the floor when the door alert beeps on my phone. She’s here. I take a deep, steadying breath and a last glance around the room. It’s ready, for whatever might be on the way.

  Moving through the main living space to the penthouse entrance, an unexpected amount of nerves are firing off through my gut. I open the front door, and there she is, beautiful in those same type of leggings she wore during our jog together, a tight workout shirt, and her hair up in that spunky, adorable ponytail I love. She smiles, looking bashful, and I step to the side, inviting her in.

  “Come on in, I have the room all set up.” She moves inside, and I lead her further into the penthouse.

  “All set up? I thought all yoga took was a mat.”

  “You don’t even need that, but it does help with learning positioning and keeping your feet from slipping during some of the poses. I have a room I prefer to practice in, that’s all — Gunner and Daniel nicknamed it the Zen Den.”

  “Cute,” she says with a smile as we enter the hallway leading to the back rooms. “I like your place.”

  “Thanks, but I know it’s a bit of a mancave. Gunner and I don’t usually have female company up here.”

  I notice she’s biting her lip and fidgeting. My pulse jumps a little as I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I take it as a good sign, because there’s no reason to be nervous unless she has other ideas in mind besides yoga.

  As if she can feel me staring, she turns her eyes on me, her gaze sweeping from head to toe. “It looks like I was wrong on what to wear.” />
  I turn to face her as we near the doorway to my meditation room. She has no idea how fucking breathtaking she is — today, every day. It doesn’t matter what she wears, from a fancy evening gown to a pair of jeans, she looks great in everything, but I love her just like this — minimal makeup, simple clothes, a pretty smile.

  “Oh, no, you’re perfect,” I tell her. “Some people prefer stretchy, form-fitting clothes for yoga, and others like looser clothing. It’s absolutely a personal choice. You can do yoga in a snowsuit, or completely naked.”

  Emma raises an eyebrow at the word naked, and an intriguing look dances across her face for a second. She steps into the Zen Den, and her eyes take everything in. “Wow. This is nice.”

  “Thanks. It’s my favorite room.” I pull my shirt off and drape it on one of the wide, cushioned chairs along the wall.

  Emma attempts not to stare at my chest, but it’s only half working, and she turns away, pretending to become very engrossed in the stick of incense. “What is this?”

  “It’s a custom blend called Mystic Evening. A mixture of jasmine, ylang ylang, neroli, and sandalwood.”

  “Ah, sandalwood. I love it.” She turns back to me, her eyes sweeping across the bare skin of my stomach and chest. I don’t have the big bulk of Gunner, but I eat right, run often, and do core-strengthening every week. My abs and arms are well-toned, and I love the way her gaze lingers on me.

  “Have you done yoga before?” I ask, stepping onto one of the mats.

  She swallows and licks her lips before responding, “No. Some of the nurses have shown me some poses, but I’ve never taken classes.”

  I get down on the mat in a cross-legged position. “Well, I’m happy to show you some things. Go ahead and sit across from me.”

  Emma takes off her shoes and sets them along the wall then lowers herself onto the other mat, facing me, and mimics my position. “Now what?”

  “We’re just going to warm up and then move into a few gentle, seated poses. Let’s start with some neck rolls.”

  I lead Emma through a few very basic warm-ups, checking in with her to demonstrate proper rotation and to make sure the stretches aren’t too much. She’s doing pretty well, but she’s still carrying a lot of tension, and I urge her to go slow, making sure she focuses on her breathing and ease into the stretches until she’s fully limber in each position.

  By the time we’re through the floor warm-up and are ready to start standing poses, she’s loosened up quite a bit. Instead of holding her breath, she’s draw in deep and relaxing breaths through her nose then exhale through her mouth to release the tension.

  We take a breather, and I excuse myself to grab a couple bottled waters from the fridge. Either the thermostat in the room is malfunctioning, or things are heating up in a different way, because both of us are a little flushed, and our skin has that kiss of moisture as if we’d been on a long jog.

  I hand her one of the waters when I get back to the room, and she gratefully tips it up, sipping the cool liquid.

  “I’m going to strip down a little, if that’s alright.”

  She blinks twice before responding, the bottle of water paused at her lips. “Sure.”

  I remove my loose-fitting Prana pants, kicking out of them, standing now in only a pair of tight yoga shorts that don’t hide a thing. Every crease and bulge of my lower half is on display, package and all. The bulge is a little more ample than usual, thanks to Emma’s arousing presence.

  She doesn’t try to hide her stare this time and a heated look appears in her hazel eyes they roam over me. “Good idea,” she says. In one fluid movement, Emma strips her shirt off, revealing a dark grey sports bra beneath.

  Now it’s my turn to try not to stare, but I can’t help it. My gaze lingers on her bare abdomen and the curve of her breasts hugged tight by the sports top, and my eyes refuse to look anywhere else.

  “What now?” she asks, curling into a self-conscious pose, her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around her legs.

  Worrying that I may be making her uncomfortable, I manage to tear my gaze away from her, but not before catching a shy but flirty glimmer of a smile on her face.

  Rejoining her on the mats, I say, “I’ll take you through the poses of the Sun Salutation — it’s a great sequence for beginners. Sound good?”

  She nods, her expression eager. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

  I walk her through the proper positioning of each pose, leading by example, and she’s a fast learner, getting the hang of most of the positions pretty quickly. Her movements are fluid and graceful for a first-timer. She asks to repeat the sequence, so we do it again, but she stumbles a little when we get to the downward dog pose.

  “Widen your stance,” I suggest. “Set your feet apart a little further, and don’t lock your knees.”

  Emma’s hands and feet are both on the mat, her fine ass sticking up in the air, but she’s wobbling a little. She doesn’t have a very deep bend, either, and it’s because she’s not opening her hips up.

  I stand straight and step beside her, placing one hand on her hip. “May I?”

  The uncertainty in her voice tells me she isn’t sure what I’m asking, but she still says, “Yes, of course.”

  “Let’s reposition your legs a little to help your stability.”

  “Okay.”

  I slide a hand down her left leg, bending to reach her ankle, and I nudge it gently to indicate she needs to move it outward, which she does. I lean across — digging deep to resist the urge to kiss that sumptuous ass of hers — and do the same with her other ankle. “There, now your feet are directly under your hips. With downward dog, you don’t want your legs completely together; it’ll throw you off balance.”

  “Thanks,” she says, lowering her head between her arms to look at me upside down.

  “Now, see if you can deepen into this bend — you’re going for an A shape. I’ll help.” I put a hand on the small of her back and press gently, but her hips are locked.

  “Like this?” she asks, stretching her arms out further.

  “Almost. This is a great pose for stretching your spine. Imagine that your hips are being pulled backward from the top of your thighs.”

  Emma lifts her butt higher into the air by pushing upward with her feet, balancing on her tippy-toes. “I feel like a wobbly triangle,” she says with a laugh.

  I chuckle at how cute she is, impressed by her determination. “Lower your back down a little so you’re still on the balls of your feet.” I touch the point where her legs crease into a bend at her hips. “The lift comes from here, not your feet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Here, let me show you.” I try to reposition her from the side, but it isn’t going to work from my current spot. In order to pull her hips to the correct angle, I need to get in a much more compromising position. “Do you mind if I stand behind you?”

  “Not at all,” she says.

  Letting go of her hips, I move to stand behind her, my legs straddling hers. I step close until the inside of my thighs touch the back of hers, and I take hold of her hips with both hands. I lift her pelvis in a forward rotating motion, my thumbs pressing into the sides of her ass. God, standing behind her like this, her pelvis angling straight for my cock... it’s a damn good thing she’s facing the other way, because things are stirring in my shorts.

  “Feel that?” I ask then quickly add, “Your hips opening up?”

  “Yes.” She nods, her ponytail bouncing across her head.

  I use one hand to apply pressure to the small of her back, getting Emma to lower her chest further to the mat, making that gorgeous ass point so temptingly at the perfect angle...

  “Right there,” I tell her. “That’s perfect. How’s the pull? Too much?”

  “No. It feels good.” God, there’s a husk in her voice that wasn’t there before, and I’m on the verge of a hard-on.

  “Great.” I try to clear my mind of the salacious thoughts I’m having about how much I want
to run my hands all over her backside and squeeze that sexy ass, but it’s not easy. “From this position, you’ll move into a standing forward fold by pulling your feet forward to your hands, one at a time, passing through a lunge pose.”

  I realize I’m still holding onto her, but I can’t bring myself to remove my hands — or to step away from behind her, especially not with how obvious my growing erection will be if I take my place beside her on my own mat.

  “Alright.” She flexes her knees, making her ass wiggle, and I swear it’s on purpose, a tease for my benefit. She bends her right leg, moving her foot underneath her, transitioning into a lunge, and then brings the other leg forward, too, and now she’s in a crouched position.

  I move with her, stepping forward on the mat to guide her from behind. “Now, raise your hips and tuck your head to your knees for the standing fold — but stop if the stretch becomes uncomfortable.”

  She shifts again, and her ass rises into the air as her bend deepens. I keep my hands exactly where they are — one holding onto her left hip, the other on the bare skin of her back. She brushes her ass against me as she lowers her head to her legs, and I’ll be damned if I don’t hear the hint of a gasp as those tempting curves rub lightly across my erection.

  I tuck my pelvis back to avoid another accidental graze, though God knows I really want to pull her pants down and slip my hands — and more — between those thighs...

  But just as I pull away, she leans back, pressing into me. At first, I think she’s just lost her balance, but she doesn’t move away even as my growing erection pulses against her. Rather than breathing slow and deep, I can see from the stuttering rise and fall of her chest that her breath is shallow and rapid with anticipation.

  I push down with my hand, leaning into her firmly as I stretch forward to bend with her, running my palm down her spine. Her stretch deepens as I do, and she rotates her hips against me provocatively — causing my rapidly hardening cock to settle into the cleft of her ass.