Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  He sensed my eyes, glancing in my direction and smiling. One hand left the wheel, reaching for mine and entwining our fingers.

  I laid my head back on the seat and just enjoyed, savored, greedily soaked up this little moment. I memorized every second, locking it up tight with the rest of my Kline memories.

  We’d made a lot in a short time, but they were good ones. Every single one.

  * * *

  Before I knew it, Kline was hopping out of the driver’s side and opening my door. The drive had been nice and we’d made good time. He’d held my hand the entire way, his thumb caressing my fingers. We didn’t talk much, just silently enjoyed each other’s company.

  Sometimes, words don’t need to be said. Sometimes, simply enjoying someone’s company, just having them beside you, just being in their presence was enough. Plus, my inner monologue had said enough for the both of us.

  Since we had spent the majority of the day packing and driving, I was going to stay the night at his place. We’d take the rental car back on our way to work and get into the office a little later than usual.

  That was definitely one positive for dating your boss. If he wanted to take you away on a long weekend in the Hamptons and demanded you go into work a few hours later than normal, who were you to argue?

  “Let’s leave the bags,” he said, taking my hand. “I’ll grab them later.”

  He handed his key off to the valet and led me into the lobby and onto the elevator.

  “Did you have a good weekend, Benny?” he asked, pushing the button for his floor.

  “Eh.” I shrugged. “It was okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  I nodded.

  He stalked toward me like he was a predator and I was his prey, and he caged me against the wall. “Are you sure about that, baby?”

  “It was pretty good?” I stared up at him, fighting the urge to smile.

  “I have a feeling you’re trying to get me riled up.” His kissed the corner of my mouth. “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “Is it working?”

  His hand slid into my hair, gripping the strands. “That depends. What kind of reaction were you hoping for?”

  “One that includes taking off your pants.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  His mouth was on me, kissing me hard, making my moan echo in the small confines of the cart.

  My hands were all over him, touching his chest and stomach and then sliding up his back. I was about two seconds away from mounting him inside the elevator when the bell dinged, signaling we’d reached his floor.

  He didn’t waste any time, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me out, grabbing my ass.

  We were a mess of kissing and groping as we reached his door. It took him three tries to fit the key into the lock and open it. We tumbled into his apartment. He kicked the door shut. My back was pressed against the wall as he continued to kiss the hell out of me.

  “Kline? Is that you?”

  We stopped, glancing toward the female voice coming from the living room.

  “Shit,” he cursed, untangling us.

  My feet hit the floor and Kline discreetly adjusted my shirt.

  I looked at him, confused. What the hell?

  “My mom,” he mouthed just as she rounded the corner.

  Panic hit me. I was about to meet his mom. Kline’s mom. She was here, in his apartment. And two seconds ago, I’d been about to hump him in the elevator.

  I mean, what were the odds? Friday night, Kline had popped my cherry, and today, I was meeting his fucking mother. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.

  Deep breaths, Georgia. You can do this. You can get through this without looking like a moron.

  “Kline, darling! We didn’t know you’d be home so early,” she greeted, moving toward her son and giving him a hug. His mother was beautiful—dark hair that was cut into a bob, bright blue eyes, blinding smile. I was starting to see where Kline got his looks.

  “Uh, hi, Mom.” He cleared his throat. Scratched his cheek. “Just out of curiosity, how did you get in my apartment?”

  “The spare key you gave us.”

  “You mean my emergency key? The one I gave you just in case I lost mine or managed to lock myself out of my apartment?”

  “Yeah, that one.” She nodded and smiled, not catching his drift in the slightest.

  Kline sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.

  “Kline, my boy!” A tall, handsome man walked toward us. He was a distinguished kind of handsome, with salt and pepper hair and glasses covering his brown eyes.

  Oh, shit! His dad is here too?

  “Hey, Dad,” Kline greeted.

  The two men hugged, clapping one another on the back.

  His dad’s focus turned to me. “And who is this gorgeous woman?”

  “Bob, I was just about to ask that,” his mother added, almost insulted that he’d gotten to it first. It caused a hint of a smile to spread across my face.

  “This is my girlfriend.” Kline wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. If it hadn’t been for the panic over his parents, I might have focused a little harder on the use of the label ‘girlfriend,’ jumped up and down a couple of times—that sort of thing.

  “Georgia, these are my parents, Bob and Maureen,” he begrudgingly introduced us. I had a feeling he was peeved their unexpected visit had put a damper on our little moment in the elevator.

  I fought my normal urges to shout something awkward and completely inappropriate.

  “Oh, hi! I’m Georgia! Your son took my virginity this weekend! You really did a great job with him! He sure knows how to please a woman!”

  Yeah, don’t worry. I managed to keep my foot-in-mouth syndrome under control.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” I shook their hands. “Kline has told me so much about you.”

  “Oh, she’s very pretty, Kline,” Maureen murmured, winking at her son.

  “Can’t deny that,” Bob added. “Looks like you’re finally slowing down and enjoying yourself.”

  “Thank goodness!” his mother agreed. “It’s about time our baby boy took some time for himself. He works too hard.” She looked at Kline. “You really do, honey. You work way too hard.”

  Kline started to say something, but his father was already chiming in. “Definitely works too hard. You look good, son. And I have a feeling it has a lot to do with this pretty lady here.” Bob nodded in my direction.

  I felt like I was in the middle of a tennis match, moving my head back and forth, back and forth, just to keep up with their constant chatter. They were pretty adorable, to be honest.

  “So, what brings you guys here, to my apartment, on a Sunday?”

  “Your father still hasn’t fixed my washer. And I needed to throw a few loads in,” Maureen explained, giving Bob the side-eye. “But don’t worry, I went ahead and did all of your laundry while I was at it. And I cleaned your bathroom. It was a mess, Kline Matthew,” she scolded.

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”

  “Well, it was the least I could do. But really, Kline, between that and the litter box, I nearly fainted. You should think about getting a maid or something. Georgia shouldn’t have to see that.”

  Pretty sure the last time I was here, what his bathroom looked like was the very last thing on my mind. The bedroom? Yes. Kline naked? Hell yes. But the cleanliness of his toilet? Yeah, not so much.

  “Only one of those things is even remotely my fault,” Kline grumbled under his breath. It was one of those moves where you want to stick it to a person by saying what you’re feeling, but you don’t actually want them to hear you.

  I tried really hard not to laugh.

  “How was the Hamptons?” Bob asked as we made our way into the living room.

  “Fantastic.” Kline encouraged me to sit down on the couch before settling beside me. “We had great weather.”

/>   “Had you ever been to the Hamptons, Georgia?” Maureen asked.

  “A few times, but not since I was a teenager. It was nice being by the coast. Honestly, it makes me want to live there permanently.”

  Kline grinned at me, gently squeezing my thigh.

  “What’d you rent for the drive, son?” Bob asked.

  “Ford Edge.”

  “Sensible vehicle. Not my first choice, but I guess you didn’t want to pick Georgia up in a Focus, huh?” He chuckled, smiling at Kline. “How was the gas mileage?”

  “Pretty good,” Kline answered. “Twenty-eight miles to the gallon.”

  “Not too shabby.” His dad scrunched his lips together, nodding his head.

  The whole practicality thing was really starting to make sense.

  “Darling, have you offered Georgia anything to drink?” his mother whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m sure she’s parched from the drive.”

  Before I could decline, Kline was pulling me to my feet.

  “Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

  “I’ll take a beer, son!” his dad called out to us as we walked into the kitchen.

  “She’s so pretty, Bob,” Maureen whispered to her husband, giddy. “Do you think they’re having s-e-x?”

  “Christ, Maureen, I hope to God our son is having sex by now. He’s thirty-four years old. If he isn’t, I’ve screwed up somewhere along the way.”

  “Shh,” she quieted him. “Keep your voice down. And stop talking like that.”

  “Pretty sure they can hear everything you’re saying, Maur. You’ve never been too good with the inside voice.” His father didn’t even attempt to keep his volume down.

  “Do you think they are, Bob?”

  “By the way they looked when they walked in the door, I’d say they were about two seconds away from s-e-x-ing.”

  If they hadn’t already shown me approval, I’d have been burrowing myself into the floor.

  The second we got into the kitchen, Kline was lifting me onto the counter and standing between my legs. He gripped my thighs.

  “Sorry for the ambush,” he said, his eyes apologetic.

  “It’s not like you planned it. Anyway, I really like Bob and Maureen.”

  A relieved grin covered his lips. “They really do mean well. My mom can be a bit of a meddler, though. I’m sure that was apparent the second we walked into my apartment and found them making themselves at home.”

  I laughed, nodding. “It’s okay. Once you meet my parents, you’ll realize you have nothing to worry about.”

  He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I look forward to it, baby.”

  “Do you think we’ll have s-e-x tonight?” I teased, waggling my brows.

  “God, I was praying you hadn’t heard them,” he groaned, dropping his head to my chest.

  I laughed, lifting his chin up to meet my eyes.

  “I’m glad you’re finding this hilarious.”

  “I can’t wait until we have s-e-x again,” I whispered.

  Kline’s face cracked, a smile consuming his perfect mouth.

  “I hope you put your mouth on my p-u-s-s-y, too.”

  “If I put my c-o-c-k in your mouth, will you stop spelling shit?”

  I nodded, my mouth twisting into a devious smile.

  He tickled my ribs, urging giggles from my lips.

  “Stop it!” I whisper-yelled, squirming away from him. “Now, stop being so damn ornery and get me something to drink. I’m parched.”

  He rolled his eyes, turning for the fridge.

  I stayed on the counter, swinging my legs and watching him rummage around for refreshments.

  “Hey…psst…” I tried to get his attention.

  Curious blue eyes peeked over the fridge door.

  I cupped my mouth with my hands, whispering, “You have the best c-o-c-k.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kline

  “I just realized maybe I should have chosen a more professional meal. Something delicate.” Georgia rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating smile and took a sip of wine.

  Professional. Ha. These days, professional felt like nothing more than a fancy name for a distant memory. I was so wrapped up in her, my eyes were practically staring straight down the barrel of my asshole.

  It didn’t feel remotely natural, but it sure as fuck didn’t feel bad either.

  “You’re not a delicate professional. You’re a take-charge, no-bullshit kind of woman. If Glen would rather watch you eat a salad than a steak, he can go fuck himself.”

  “Kline!”

  “Well, he can. Don’t worry about anything other than being yourself and the contract. Fuck the rest.”

  It had been two weeks since our trip to the Hamptons. We were at a dinner meeting with Glen Waters, President and CEO of FlowersFirst, to button up an exclusive contract with them that I hadn’t been crazy about—until Georgia had outlined all of the guaranteed cross-advertising they were contracted to do.

  Full disclosure, I still wasn’t one hundred percent sold. But Georgia Cummings was a smart, efficient employee, and that wasn’t even my dick talking. He got a vote, I supposed—not worth denying it—but that wasn’t the basis of my decision. My confidence in her ability was what had brought us to this meeting.

  But the flower market share on TapNext alone was gargantuan, and I didn’t like giving any one entity the entire pie. Contracts were airtight for a reason, but swearing yourself to one person professionally was just ripe for a fucking.

  Glen better have some real unicorn and rainbow type bullshit planned for ad content or I am going to derail this train before it even gets out of the station.

  “Sorry about that,” Glen apologized as he approached the table. He’d left to take an “important” phone call. It happened from time to time, so I understood, but he rubbed me as one of those people who thinks he’s hot shit and irreplaceable. Everyone is replaceable in business.

  Some people like me, or Georgia, or maybe even Glen, could be an asset, but we sure as fuck weren’t necessities. Businesses needed competence, patience, and drive, and plenty of people had those qualities.

  “No problem,” Georgia appeased easily, obviously feeling like telling him to go fuck himself a little less than I did.

  “Now, we were just starting to dive into the specifics when you got pulled away,” she began, steering Glen back to the prize. I sat back to watch.

  “We’d be looking at a twelve-month exclusivity in exchange for majority placement in each of your ads: television, radio, and print. In general, our website makes up twenty percent of the online daily flower market alone. Brooks Media would contractually reserve the right to approve any and all ad content that references or deals with us.”

  God, she was something.

  Every word she spoke made it clear—business didn’t need specific people, but love and relationships sure did. I was starting to realize my specific person was her.

  I checked back into reality just in time to find Georgia looking to me in question. Of course, I’d missed the question.

  Glen, the helpful bastard, filled me in, though. “Don’t you think she’d look sexy in one of the ads, Brooks?”

  “No,” I answered simply, hoping he’d drop it. We’d just gotten started, and I wanted to believe he was just trying to get into her good graces by complimenting her—inappropriate in both context and manner, but a compliment all the same.

  He laughed and gestured at my girlfriend.

  “Sex sells. You know this.”

  I did. Sex was a huge share of marketing in the U.S. specifically. But there was a whole slew of creative ways to use it, and they didn’t include Georgia.

  “Your whole market is sex, and this girl would sell.”

  I clenched my hand into a fist under the table but worked to keep my voice and demeanor steady. I even managed a completely unfriendly smile. “No, Glen. Georgia is an executive and an asset within the company. What she isn’t, is
sex to sell.”

  “Kline,” Georgia whispered. My anger was building and she wasn’t oblivious to it.

  “Oh, I see,” Glen said with a nod. “Her sex isn’t for sale because she’s already sexing the boss.” He reached out to brush the loose hair off of her shoulder. “Good move, sweetheart.”

  My mind raced with a thousand scenarios of how I could strangle this motherfucker from across the table. Shit. I shoved back my chair and fished in my pocket for money at the same time. Rage bubbled and boiled under the surface, singeing the lining of my veins, but I didn’t give in to the scene. He wanted that. He’d pushed the last straw to try to get a rise out of me and draw attention to himself because he knew the contract was already swirling the drain.

  Guys like Glen were snakes, slithering around until they found the perfect opportunity to pounce. He wanted a physical reaction, one that would land me in handcuffs and balls deep in lawyer’s fees. But I wouldn’t be a party to it.

  He was the coward, not me. Instead of facing his poor, pathetic, unintelligible business decisions head-on, like a man, he’d sexually harassed my girlfriend.

  “The deal’s dead, Glen,” I declared, throwing the money down on the white linen tablecloth. “Contract’s destroyed. Any future opportunity to do business with Brooks Media and any of its subsidiaries extinguished. And you’ve lost a powerful business ally, and instead, gained an enemy.”

  I pulled out Georgia’s chair and forced her to stand.

  “Kline—”

  “Georgia, let’s go.”

  She nodded, grabbed her clutch, and followed, but I could tell she wasn’t happy.

  And that made fucking two of us.

  Frank sat at the curb waiting, and I opened the door and ushered Georgia in without delay.

  “Mr. Brooks,” Frank said as he jumped to attention in the driver seat.

  “My apartment, Frank.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Georgia tried several times to meet my eyes, but I couldn’t return the favor. I was too goddamn angry. At Glen, at myself, and a little at her. I hated the last most of all.

  I expected her to call to me. Tell me to look at her. Something.