Reckless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #2)

by Bella Andre

  “Except the steel-toes.”

  “Sure,” she agreed with a naughty little smile, “we can keep the boots.”

  He didn’t mean to tear everything she owned, but she flipped all his switches. He couldn’t think and before he knew it, there were only shreds of satin in his fist...and the silky-smooth feel of her skin, her thighs urging him on. He’d wanted to taste her, savor her, make this last forever.

  But he couldn’t wait.

  She quickly undid his belt buckle and they unzipped together, he holding the zipper straight, she pulling the tab. A handful of beats later, he’d slid on protection, then he took her hips in his hands.

  With one hard move, he thrust into her, so fast and deep she gasped his name. Sebastian.

  For a few precious moments, he tried to slow it all down, to watch her, memorize her, savor her muscles tightening around him. Her color deepened, and heat rose off her flesh. She bit her lip, and her lids closed, fluttered, opened again, her eyes dazed with pleasure.

  He moved, stroking that perfect spot inside her, then added the caress of his finger over her arousal. Then he lost himself completely in the clench of her slick heat around him. There was no holding back. He took her harder. Faster. Deeper. His lips found her mouth, and he swallowed her cries as she swallowed his. And they went up in flames together.

  * * *

  Charlie wasn’t sure how they ended up on the floor, with her straddling Sebastian. It was a good thing he didn’t seem to care that his suit pants were getting dirty. Because she couldn’t move. She was boneless and sated, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms, keeping him buried deep inside her.

  “Mmmm.” She breathed against his neck. “I’m glad you came back early today.”

  He ran his heated gaze over her naked body. “No more than I am.”

  As hard as it was to leave him, she pushed off, using his shoulders for leverage, then held out her hand to him. “I still have so much to do.”

  He wrapped his fingers around hers and rolled to his feet, holding her close a moment, his hands all over her naked curves, his lips against her hair. “You’re just too tempting to resist.” He smiled down at her devilishly. “But I have to, don’t I?”

  “Yes, you do.” Though a part of her prayed he wouldn’t. All she had to do was say the word... But she didn’t. They would have tonight, but the bow-legged stallion needed her now.

  Sebastian left her to use the bathroom at the back of the workshop while Charlie scrambled into her clothes. The lingerie was toast, but she didn’t mind. She loved how wild he got, tearing off the satin. It was so sexy, so erotic...

  “I have a brilliant idea.” She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but now he trailed his free hand down her waist to the curve of her hip. “You should always work naked.”

  She laughed. “Tempting.” Especially if he came home early to do that to her again. “But I play with torches all day, remember?”

  “In my bedroom, then,” he murmured as he turned her in his arms to brush his lips over hers. “Naked. Just for me.” Then he kissed all the sense from her brain, until she couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t comply. “I’ll leave you alone soon,” he said, but he didn’t let her go, his hands resting at her hips, a tingling reminder. “But I wanted to talk with you about a couple of things.”

  “Ah,” she teased, “so you did have ulterior motives for coming to see me today. It wasn’t just to bring me beer and love me senseless.”

  “You are always my first motive. Everything else places a distant second.”

  He always knew the perfect words to melt her, but she leaned back against the workbench. The couple of things he wanted to talk about were already making her wary, even before she heard what they were. It would be easier to listen if she wasn’t pressed tightly against him. Then again, just gazing at his beautiful face was distracting. “Hit me with those other motives.”

  “I’m glad you and your mother let me help with the move into Magnolia Gardens. It’s clearly a much better place than Shady Lane.” He paused, as if he needed to let that sink in first. “But I thought we could probably spruce up the furniture in your mom’s room. Cushy chairs. A bigger TV. A bookshelf. And something that’s not plastic for the balcony.”

  The topic threw Charlie off—this wasn’t what she’d expected at all—but it was clear from the expression on Sebastian’s face that he’d wanted to discuss it for some time. She fought back her instinctively defensive response, but ultimately couldn’t stop herself. “They recommend that residents bring stuff from home they’re comfortable with. But I didn’t have room at my place to store everything from the house she shared with my father.”

  “We’ll get her something new, then.” He stroked the bare skin of her arm. It should have soothed her, but the subject was pushing her buttons.

  Still, she tried not to read any criticism into what he was saying, especially when she’d also thought about sprucing up her mother’s new bedroom a bit. “Mom would like that, I’m sure. Some pretty sheets and towels, in addition to the bedspread I was going to pick up for her. So it feels homey.” She was totally ready to switch focus to something that would make her less edgy—which she knew was her deal, not his. “What’s the other thing you wanted to talk about?”

  “Actually,” he said, easing into her so he could rest his hands on her waist, “I wondered what you thought of the food at Magnolia Gardens.”

  She could feel the frown between her brows and resisted the urge to scrub it away. “They had a great salad bar. Some stuff is probably better than others. I read that they have a brunch on Sundays with prime rib or turkey, baked ham or rack of lamb. I think it’s good.” She waited a beat, letting his hands on her ease her tension. Except that they didn’t, and she couldn’t help adding, “Didn’t you?”

  She was working very hard to keep her voice light, but she heard the strain threaded through the question, Didn’t you? Because what she’d really meant was, Don’t you trust me to take care of my mom?

  He seemed to battle with himself for a long moment, his fingers flexing against her, before he nodded. “You’re right. The food was fine, the gardens were great, and the doctors and the care seem good too.” He stroked her arm, once, twice, maybe trying to soothe them both this time. “The last thing is good news. Remember the couple at the gala with the house out in Woodside? She had the koi pond.”

  “Vaguely.”

  That was a lie. All she remembered about the gala was the way he’d shoved her up against the elevator wall, ravaged her mouth, then stripped her out of her dress in the penthouse. He’d taken her to heights she’d never dreamed possible.

  At the same time, she was more than happy to leave behind the topic of her mom’s new nursing home. Sure, they might be able to find something better than Magnolia Gardens, but it would also cost even more than the shocking monthly amount she was currently paying. And though Sebastian could easily cover it, Charlie simply wasn’t ready to let him take over. Even if he had a miraculous capacity to overwhelm her resistance to whatever he wanted, she wasn’t going to bend on that one.

  “The couple would like something with an Asian flair to sit by the pond. I said I’d set your creative juices loose on the idea.”

  “A commission?” Charlie ran her fingertips over his jaw, loving the faint hint of five o’clock shadow bristling against her skin. She’d doubted anyone would call after the hotel gala, but in a matter of days, Sebastian had made things happen.

  “Yeah.” He reached around her and grabbed one of the beers, popping the top for her. Then he raised his, tapping the bottle rims. “Here’s to getting all the commissions you’ll ever need.”

  Need? What had happened to inspiration? She thrust the thought aside because she truly did need all this for her mother. And Sebastian was so excited for her.

  “They sent me a photo of the pond.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll show you later. And there’s a party we should attend tomor
row night. We’ll make great contacts for you.”

  Charlie sipped the brew. And it was surprisingly delicious. But another party? These galas could turn into work. And without an ounce of the fun part, like digging through junk shops and combing old worksites for the buried treasure left behind. Besides, she’d rather be working on the stallions. Or better yet, spending tomorrow night alone with Sebastian, making love in the workshop, in the hot tub, and in his bed. She wound her arms around his neck, the cool bottle dangling from her fingers, and pressed sinuously against him in anticipation of all that lovely, sweet sex.

  “Charlie.” Her name was raw with need as it fell from his tongue. His wickedly talented tongue. “You want the commission?”

  “Yes. I want it.” At least if the party was tomorrow night, she’d have time to find another dress. Considering his social circle, God forbid she should wear the same outfit twice. As for the koi pond, she’d happily think about a design for it later. “But right now?” She licked his earlobe, loving the growl deep in his throat. “I just want you.”

  Again. It was so much easier to love Sebastian—with her hands, her mouth, her body, and her heart—than to deal with her emotions about her mom’s infirmities or Magnolia Gardens, or even the commissions.

  She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him until she couldn’t think about anything else, until he grabbed both bottles and set them on the bench. Then he lifted her, and everything started all over again.

  This was the only place she wanted to be—in Sebastian’s arms, thinking about nothing but him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Charlie stood in front of the mirror in the ladies’ room of the San Francisco War Memorial Opera House, repairing the lipstick Sebastian had just deliciously kissed off her mouth. It was a lovely old building with classic Roman Doric columns—columns behind which they’d escaped for the luscious kisses that made everything worth it.

  Since that day in her workshop two weeks ago, all the parties Sebastian had taken her to seemed to blend together. Tonight’s benefit was for... Well, she couldn’t remember. They were on the tail end of a dozen galas, benefits, and events where Sebastian was hell-bent on making her name as well-known as his.

  She left the chattering crowd of women, returning to the grand entrance hall. Voices echoed in the high, vaulted ceiling, and tonight’s crowd seemed almost impenetrable. She felt invisible in the crush, and honestly, it wasn’t a bad thing. Charlie found herself craving quiet, empty moments more and more.

  Just as Sebastian had predicted, the commissions were rolling in. So many, in fact, that she’d had to use the scheduler on her iPad. What’s more, she was being written about—not as Sebastian Montgomery’s new bit of arm candy, but as an artist. After the Regent Hotel opening, her work had been roundly praised. Even, shockingly, called genius. Soon after, Sebastian had convinced a group of reporters to come to her place in Los Altos, and then one newspaper had ended up doing a Sunday spread on Will Franconi’s rock garden teeming with her Zantis. After learning he was a fan of The Outer Limits as well, she’d sent him a crate full. The commissions were mostly for garden works, smaller pieces than the elephant, rams, and lion. But an eccentric old guy from Palm Springs was fascinated with the T-Rex and was considering it for his desert ranch.

  Sebastian was opening all the doors he’d promised. The possibility of a huge art career was deep in her bones now, not to mention a much bigger bank balance that brought her giant steps closer to making sure her mother could stay in the comfort of Magnolia Gardens.

  He’d done so much for her. So how could she tell him she was tired right down to the roots of her hair?

  What’s more, she wanted, needed, craved the time to finish the chariot race. It turned her fingers to fire as she worked. The sculpture was her shining vision, and she could visualize the sun pouring through the glass ceiling, her stallions glowing like mythical creatures in flight.

  Yet there was always another piece to slip in here or there, projects she hated to admit that she completed on autopilot as quickly as she could. Her only goal was to return to the stallions and their broken chariot. She hadn’t even found a moment to start Noah’s dinosaur.

  Charlie sank down on a bench in an alcove out of direct traffic. She wasn’t hiding. Okay, maybe she was. Just for a little while, until Sebastian found her and it was time to start schmoozing again. But her legs—and her soul, if she was being totally honest with herself—felt like they might give out if she didn’t take a moment’s respite.

  She’d always assumed turning her art into a career would be a good thing. But she’d finally learned the downside to success—working on commission meant you weren’t always doing what you were inspired to do, just what you had to do.

  Which only made inspiration harder to find.

  Take last week, when she’d visited a prospective client—God, now they were clients! The woman wanted a cherub or something equally mediocre for her garden. And Charlie had felt absolutely nothing. She couldn’t have summoned a vision if the lady had offered a million dollars. But, with big Magnolia Gardens bills to pay, she’d signed up to make a cherub. Somehow she had to find a way to feel like an artist again rather than a worker on an assembly line.

  She thought about slipping off her high heels to rub her feet, but, despite being sidelined, she was sure someone would see her. Closing her eyes for a few precious moments, she willed every thought to drain away. Breathe in, breathe out. Maybe it was the clearing of her mind that suddenly let in the voice. Or maybe it was Sebastian’s name that made her prick up her ears.

  “She’s just a little nobody Sebastian found in the wilds of Los Altos. One of his projects. You know how much he likes to save the underprivileged.”

  Charlie didn’t have to peek around the edge of her alcove to know that voice. Whitney Collins. Evan’s wife sucked up to important people with the nicest, sweetest voice. The rest of the time, she was catty and mean.

  “Now she’s the toast of San Francisco because she’s sleeping with him. Although what he sees in her is beyond me. I swear, she reminds me of an undomesticated animal. You can dress up the ratty cat, but we all know what’s still beneath the sequins and pearls, don’t we?” The women laughed. “Don’t breathe a word of what I’ve said, of course. Evan will get his shorts all bunched up, even though I’ve told him in no uncertain terms that he’d better not bring home one of her creations.” Her tone suggested Charlie’s work was something you’d stuff in a doggie-waste bag.

  Charlie slipped off her shoes and curled her feet up on the bench. Really, if she didn’t care what Whitney said about her, then she really didn’t care if anyone caught her massaging her toes. She recognized some of the other voices joining Whitney’s, women who had fawned over Charlie earlier, told her how fabulous her art was, begged her to fit them into her schedule. Of course, Sebastian had been at her side. They were the mean-girl clique from every teenage TV movie, their glittery world filled with sycophants and backbiters.

  Charlie wanted honesty and reality, and while there were absolutely some very nice people at these parties, too many in this brightly swirling society were on the opposite end of the spectrum. Which was why Charlie didn’t care enough to feel hurt by the gossip. She loved the things she found in junkyards, and she’d never stop no matter what they said. Fortunately, there were enough people like Sebastian and Walter Braedon to drown out their catty negativity. As far as Charlie was concerned, all Whitney’s comments did was reveal the mean-spirited woman she truly was, with beauty barely skin deep.

  More than once, Charlie had wondered why—and how—Sebastian thrived in this world. But whether she understood it or not, the fact was that he did. She loved him, so of course she would fully support him in anything he wanted or needed to do.

  And yet...she realized how important it was to him that she love it just as much, that she fit in and glitter as brightly as the rest of the peacocks. Yes, she’d met people she liked—the Mavericks, Walter Braedon, a
nd many others—but there were far too many like Whitney Collins.

  The very last thing in the world Charlie wanted was to hurt Sebastian in any way. But this social whirl was becoming harder and harder to live in.

  No, she hadn’t forgotten why she was doing this. To pay for her mother’s care. And, honestly, to finally receive some validation and recognition for her art. But she’d begun to wonder if she wanted this new path of success and endless commissions as much as Sebastian wanted it for her. There were so many things she missed from her life before he’d walked into it and changed everything.

  She missed her students, but she kept shoving all the letters from the college into that same drawer in the bungalow. She loved teaching, loved watching her pupils grow and stretch themselves. There were some that were all about gaining a marketable skill, getting a job, and having a career, which was great, but there were others who visualized masterpieces. She missed helping each one find the path he or she was meant to take.

  She missed creating just for the sake of creating—following inspiration without a goal or a commission or even a plan.

  And, oh, how she missed the quiet. Especially in the evenings, when she used to either curl up with a book or on the couch in Sebastian’s arms.

  Now, she was constantly on the hunt for appropriate dresses, heels, and hairstyles. She reached up to massage her face with one hand, realizing that even her jaw hurt from the constant smile pasted on her face.

  Was it only a few weeks ago that Sebastian had asked her if things were better? It seemed like forever. Early on in their relationship, she’d known that having him in her life was better than any love story she could have dreamed up. But the rest of what came with loving Sebastian was still up for consideration...

  “There’s the congressman,” Whitney’s voice grated its way back into her thoughts. “I need a word with him.”

  Whitney passed Charlie’s alcove a moment later without even noticing her. She thought fleetingly of confronting the woman, but Sebastian would probably hear of it and make a huge deal out of Whitney’s insults. After his outburst about how toxic Whitney was, Charlie was sure he’d love taking the woman on. But Charlie didn’t want a scene. It was just another thing to handle when all she wanted to do was get out of here, finish the chariot, then fall asleep in Sebastian’s arms.