Scoring the Boss: Mr. Match Book 4

by Stewart, Delancey

  Charlie made a noise that I swear sounded like agreement, and it was settled.

  An hour later, I was sitting at a high table next to a window, drinking water and eating from a basket of tortilla chips, waiting for Max while my stomach leapt and shimmied. It wasn't butterflies. I wasn't a butterfly kind of girl. It was more like elves. At a rave. Or a bunch of those gnome gifs dancing around—the ones with the weird little v-shaped bathing suit thing on? At any rate, it turned out an entire basket of chips couldn't stifle the elves, and when Max strode confidently across the space, his eyes on mine and his lips pulled into a perfect smile, the stupid elf-gnomes exploded into an energetic line dance inside me.

  "Hi Tate," Max said, sliding into the stool across from me. "You found the place all right."

  "I found the place, and then I found an entire basket of chips going in my mouth. I guess I was hungry." I laughed. There. This was definitely not a date of any kind. I would never have admitted to scarfing an entire basket of chips on a date.

  Max lifted a couple fingers and another basket of chips appeared, and he ordered a tequila with lime juice. "Tate?" He lifted an eyebrow, signaling the waiter to take my drink order.

  "I'm good," I told them. Water would do. Water would keep me from giving in to the stupid elves who I swear were chanting, "kiss, kiss, kiss!"

  "It's good that you wanted to meet," Max said. "How is the move going?"

  I nodded. Good. Yes. Business talk. That would distract me from way his long fingers looked as he leaned on the tabletop on his elbows, his hands folded together, those long sexy fingers absently moving against one another. "It's coming along," I said. "Mom has a couple friends who are moving her personal items over to my place and she's got the place listed as an Airbnb. I'm going to keep my place for now, just see how things go."

  Max tilted his head to the side. "Smart. So the move is really just an extension of your current situation?"

  "Yes, Peter—that's the landlord—said we could switch to a monthly lease, and he's pretty accommodating about the dog, so ... I think he has a thing for my mother, actually."

  "Oh really?"

  "She's turned out to have quite the active social life here in San Diego," I told him, happy to have the conversation in a safe place for now. "The guy she bumped into that night at the bar has taken her out a couple times now, and I think Peter is working up the nerve to approach."

  "Good for her."

  "Yeah, good for her." I pushed down the little spring of jealousy I felt.

  "You sound less than enthused," he said, his eyes narrowing.

  I laughed, but the sound wasn’t convincing. "No, I am. It's just ..." And now we were veering into less safe conversational space. "I guess I feel like it's a little backward, right? Mom's been married, had her family. She did all that."

  "So it should be you," Max said, understanding exactly what I'd been thinking without me even finishing the thought. "Your turn."

  I let out a sigh that was half embarrassment, half agreement. "I guess so. Yeah." I straightened my shoulders, took a breath. "But look. We can't talk about stuff like this. That was part of why I texted you this morning. We need to hammer out some kind of agreement. To prevent things like, uh ..."

  "Kissing?" Max said, his face remaining expressionless.

  Heat rolled through me and parked in my cheeks at the reminder of the kiss. I took a steadying breath. "Yes. We can't do that."

  "Agreed."

  Why did that one word feel like a punch directly to elf-land?

  The waiter arrived with Max's drink and took our order after Max informed me that ordering anything besides the fish tacos would be sacrilege.

  "I hope I like fish tacos," I told him. I’d been to the other fish taco place with Charlie, but neither of us had ordered fish tacos there. I didn’t mention this to Max.

  "You really shouldn't think about moving here if you don't," he said, his face serious.

  "I'm sure there are people who live in San Diego who don't enjoy a fish taco."

  He shook his head. "There are not."

  I rolled my eyes. "Exaggerate much?"

  Max took a sip of his drink, and his eyes landed on my face, held there.

  "What?" I asked, feeling self-conscious suddenly as he examined me with that focused gaze and the elves moved into a conga line.

  "It's just ..." a low chuckle fell from his lips and he shook his head. "You make me question things I was pretty sure I knew."

  "Such as?" I was hoping for an answer that was so far from professional I should have just gotten up and left right then. The elves shushed each other, waiting for his answer with bated breath.

  "How to keep a dinner professional, for one," he said, and the elves broke apart, cartwheeling and spinning. "But other things too. Like Mr. Match in general."

  Good. Yes. Back to business. "What questions do you have about the company?" I asked, putting my business tone back on. "Because I've already discussed the best means of expansion with my manager and I think I've got a solid plan. It's partly what we talked about, but also—"

  Max stopped me, held up a chip. "I didn't mean that. I'm fine with all that. I mean, you make me question the validity of the entire venture a little bit."

  "Hundreds of happy couples would argue its validity," I pointed out, wanting to assure Max that what he’d spent years working on was completely worthwhile.

  "Of course, right," he said. "Yeah. I've spent years proving that impulsive attraction isn't the right way to find your soul mate."

  "Right." Some impulsive attraction was simmering in the space between us and I was doing my best to ignore it. Impulsive attraction had led me to a horrible marriage before.

  "But knowing that doesn't make impulsive attraction any less powerful when you feel it," he said.

  God, I knew exactly what he meant. I needed to fix this. Now. "But attraction, impulsive or otherwise, doesn't mean two people are right for each other. You know it's most likely nothing, that in the long run it would be nothing. Most likely." Like with Austin.

  "Right."

  "And," I said, going out on a limb that I hoped would hold me. "If you might potentially be talking about anyone we know, and a silly kiss that shouldn't have happened—"

  "Should definitely not have happened," he agreed. "No matter how amazing it might have been."

  I sucked in a breath, tried to keep myself grounded. He thought it was amazing too.

  Sit down, you ridiculous elf savages!

  Our food had arrived, and I hadn't even noticed the waiter setting it down. Max's eyes glittered across the table as he leaned in a bit, waiting for my next words. I made my voice steady. "I was just going to point out that kisses, amazing or otherwise, can't be part of a business relationship. Not when a company and someone's whole career are on the line."

  He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Right. Of course. I would never want to jeopardize either of those things. Especially your position at work."

  I dropped my gaze to the fish tacos in the basket before me. Flour tortilla, some kind of white sauce, cabbage and a piece of fried fish. Really, it didn't look like anything so divisive as to determine whether someone could move to a particular city. I lifted a taco and took a bite.

  And then I understood.

  "Oh my God," I said through the mouthful. The white sauce was the key. There was definitely some kind of secret crack-like herbs and spices in it. "What is this sauce?" I felt a little of the sauce dribble down my chin, and I wiped it with a finger, not even thinking twice about shoving the finger into my mouth. I was not going to waste a drop of the stuff.

  Max watched me, the dark eyes trained on my finger, my lips, and then finding my eyes again. "Yogurt," he said.

  "No. Something else." My stomach flipped as he watched me.

  "Yogurt with cilantro or something in it."

  I shook my head. "There's something else. Like truffles or gold, or maybe dragon scales. Something really rare and amazing."

&
nbsp; "You're right. I'm sure it's dragon scales." A smile lifted one side of his mouth and yogurt sauce with dragon scales became the second most-wanted thing on my list.

  I focused on my tacos, and while we both ate and exchanged loaded glances, we said things like, "purely professional." "Don't need to act on it." "Rational adults."

  Somewhere during the meal, I'd ordered a margarita, thinking it would take the edge off the sexual tension that had wound itself around our table the way Charlie tended to wind me up in his leash if I stood still too long. Now the damned elves were staggering around in a yogurt-laden drunken stupor, and my skin felt itchy and hot, eager to be touched.

  "On the company," I told Max as he reached for his wallet. "It's a business dinner, after all."

  "Right," he said, and his gaze held mine steadily, giving me flashbacks to the way he'd stared down the opposing team when I'd watched him play with Dad on TV. The intensity and focus in his gaze was overwhelming. "Business."

  I tucked my credit card back into my purse and agreed. "Yep."

  Max held the door open for me, and the cool sea breeze lifted my hair and the edge of my skirt as we stepped onto the sidewalk next to the parking lot. For a moment we stood looking at each other, suspended in a long glance as each of us fought with whatever private wars we were waging. Mine was against the elves, who turned out to be very convincing. I didn't know what Max was fighting, but I could see the battle in the intense focus of his gaze, and I sensed some kind of decision had been made when he said quietly, "My place is a short walk."

  Oh God. This was it. After spending the last hour in violent agreement that we needed to take a step back from whatever sexy magical voodoo had overcome us the night before and keep things settled on a purely professional level, it was time to put those words into action. I needed to turn him down. Right fucking now.

  The elves weren’t having it.

  "Let's go," I said, holding those dark eyes.

  Max took my hand, and my body ignited.

  We walked a few steps side by side, just far enough to escape the glare of the lights from the restaurant, and then Max turned to face me, pulled my hand toward him and pressed it against his waist, and then slid both his hands into the hair just behind my ears and stared hard into my eyes.

  "Nothing about this makes any sense," he said, his voice strained and low. "But I want you like I've never wanted anyone before. That's got to mean something."

  His lips were centimeters from mine, and I couldn't think, couldn't see, could only pray that he wasn't going to go on talking, that he would just. Kiss. Me. A little noise escaped my lips, something like a moan, and in the next second, Max's mouth was on mine.

  He pushed me backward, stepping me carefully toward the building behind me until he had my back pressed against it, his mouth still on mine, demanding and strong.

  My hands gripped his back, slipped down to slide over the round hard globes of his ass, and pulled him into me.

  If I'd taken a moment to think about what this must have looked like to anyone passing by, I would have been embarrassed. But in that moment, I didn't care. When I vaguely heard someone call out, "Get a room!" all I could think was, "yes, good idea."

  The elves were fucking ecstatic, but I was too absorbed in the way Max's tongue was teasing mine, the way his hand felt as it cupped and squeezed my breast through the fabric of my shirt.

  After a moment, we broke apart, both of us gasping.

  "Where's your house exactly?" I asked.

  Max took my hand again, and we practically sprinted there.

  * * *

  Max's house could have been decorated in some kind of Eskimo chic or painted in mud for all I could have told you about the place in the first two hours I was inside. Because my mind took in one thing only: Max.

  He was demanding, aggressive, overwhelming in the best possible way, and completely in control. Between his hands, his mouth, and the words slipping from his lips: "God, I want to fuck you. I've wanted to fuck you since the first second I saw you." I was lost.

  Because I'd wanted Max too. Before I'd ever met him. I'd had a ridiculous crush on him when I'd watched him play years before, back when Dad wasn't sick. I'd even admit to having fantasized about Max when I was still with Austin.

  But the fantasy didn't compare with the reality.

  Because while I might have imagined Max's face where Austin's was, I could never have made my ex-husband's apathetic and lazy lovemaking into this.

  This was something completely different, something I'd heard might exist, but which I'd definitely never experienced.

  We'd stumbled through the door, hands and mouths already connecting as Max threw his keys on the floor and pinned me again, to the door this time. His hands explored my body while his mouth worked a trail down my throat, between my breasts. He sank to his knees, and those smooth strong hands slid up the backs of my legs, forcing another breathy groan from my lungs as I felt his fingers graze my ass.

  Then he went to work, removing each piece of my clothing, his eyes checking in with me as each item fell away until I was standing naked, pressed against his front door with the moonlight shining in from a wide open patio door across the big expanse.

  "You're beautiful," Max whispered. "You're amazing."

  He was still on his knees in front of me, and it felt a little bit like being worshipped, having him staring up at me this way, uttering the perfect words. My heart swelled and everything in me clicked into place.

  And then his hands were on me again, and he wrapped me with them, moving into me, even as he pulled me toward him, until I felt the first slick of his tongue against me and gasped.

  "Is this okay?" He asked.

  "Yes," I heard myself breathe. "God, yes."

  My hand scrabbled behind me, around me, looking for something to hold on to as Max pushed me closer and closer to losing control. I found a solid piece of furniture with my left hand and held onto it for dear life as Max kept at it. I must have pulled in just the wrong way because a second later, whatever it was crashed to the floor and the sound of ceramic shattering and things scattering followed quickly after.

  "Oh no," I said. "I'm so sorry, what was ...?"

  But Max barely paused, glancing at the bookcase I'd pulled down and the grinning up at me wickedly before going right back to work.

  His hands slid over my ass while his mouth explored me, tentatively at first and then in a pulsing rhythm that demanded compliance, that had me writhing and raking my hands against the door as my body arched away from it. Max lifted one of my legs, throwing it over his shoulder, and licked and sucked and teased. He flicked his tongue lightly against my center and then drove harder again, sliding two fingers inside me at the same time.

  He groaned as he did it, and that's what sent me spiraling over the edge, flinging myself over with abandon and letting Max catch me as I slipped down against the door and into his arms.

  "Fuck, that was hot," he said, his voice a mix of awe and reverence.

  I still hadn't recovered the ability to speak, but I made a noise demonstrating my concurrence, as I looked into his eyes and pushed a hand through the soft hair at the back of his head, bringing his mouth to mine.

  He kissed me gently then, as if testing to see if I needed some time to recover. I took the opportunity to take control, pushing him down to the floor beneath me and dropping my hands to unbutton the royal blue shirt he wore, letting my hands linger at the bottom buttons at his belt line.

  "I have a bed, you know," he said.

  "You can show it to me in a minute," I told him. But I wanted to see something else first. I pushed the shirt open, sitting up and straddling him to let my eyes roam the perfect torso as my fingers trailed over the dips and swells of all that taut firm muscle. "If this is what off-season looks like," I said. "I'd love to see you during the season." I'd never seen a man so cut except maybe in Facebook posts or in magazines.

  "That could be arranged," he said, and our eyes locked
for a brief moment. Because maybe it could, but really, it probably couldn't. This—what we were in the middle of doing right this very second—this was a mistake, and we both knew it. That was part of what made it so impossible to stop.

  But I told myself to appreciate every little line and cut of Max's body today because this would absolutely be the only time I could ever touch, taste, or even look at any of it. It was a horrible idea to think of him like this, to consider ever touching him this way. But since I was already here ...

  My hands unfastened his belt buckle and slipped it from around his waist, and I enjoyed the sound it made as I pulled it free and tossed it aside.

  I undid his trousers, and slid myself lower so I could push them open. Max lifted his hips so I could push them down, my eyes catching on the dark tip of a very impressive cock in the waistband of the black boxer briefs he wore. I tore my eyes from the shining bead at its tip and looked up at Max's face. His eyes shone in the moonlight, and he wore just the hint of a smirk.

  Any guy hiding that in his pants deserved to be a little bit arrogant, I figured.

  I pushed the briefs down and his erection sprang free, impressively thick and long. I met his eyes once more, and then lowered myself down to let my tongue swirl over the tip once, eliciting a very rewarding sharp gasp from Max.

  Confidence bolstered by the way his hands were balled into fists at his sides and his chest was rising and falling quickly, I took him in my hands and lowered my lips to him again.

  A torturous moan flew from his mouth as I took him between my lips and pressed my tongue against the frenulum just below the crown of his cock, teasing and pulsing there.

  "Fucking mother of God," Max said, his words a quick breath as his hands moved to my hair.

  Encouraged, I slipped one hand between his legs to cup him, and Max responded by thrusting gently into my mouth. I could feel my own need ratcheting up again, but I figured if we were doing this, we might as well get it all out of our systems. Then we wouldn't wonder later.