“No, I did not do her in here, dickface.” But he’d wanted to. And now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her riding him in his leather chair. “And you’re one to talk, Mr. I Enjoy Quiet Evenings In with Takeout and a Movie.”
“Hey,” Keaton began, holding his hands up. “Gwen knows the score and she and I are both cool with casual sex. You, on the other hand, are screwed. And not in a good way. More like in a girl-is-about-to-fuck-your-head-all-up-at-crucial-point-in-your-career way.” Keaton shook his head and leaned back in an attempt to toss a piece of candy in the air and catch it in his mouth. He missed.
Dean glared at him as he tried again. This time, he caught it but nearly choked to death. Served his ass right.
“I’m not screwed. Well, not yet. I have a plan.” He lowered himself into his office chair and leaned on his elbows. “I’m going to take her to the beach house this weekend.” The plan had been for next weekend until Collin Pierson started running interference. If surfer boy weren’t so good at his job, Dean would try and have the piece of shit fired. There were enough rumors about him sleeping with co-workers to make it happen.
Once Keaton had recovered from his near-death experience, he gaped at his friend. “How do you not see what’s going on here? You think a romantic weekend getaway for two is the answer? Good plan.” Chuckling, he stood to leave.
Dean scoffed. “It’s not a romantic getaway. It’s a chance to finish what I started and fuck her out of my system. Like you said.”
Keaton turned back to his friend and stared at him for a minute. “I’m going to talk real slow so you can comprehend what I am saying to you. When I said ‘fuck her out of your system,’ I meant fuck someone else. Or a couple someone elses until you forgot about her.”
Well that was a dumb idea. How the hell was he supposed to forget about her when she was the only thing he thought about?
“But I don’t want to fuck anyone else,” he admitted, knowing full well that he sounded like a petulant kid.
“And that, my friend, is precisely your problem.”
With a smirk and a quiet laugh, Keaton exited the office. Leaving Dean alone to contemplate exactly when he’d stopped wanting anyone other than Fate Buchanan.
Dean was waiting for Collin Pierson when the man returned to his office.
“Mr. Maxwell, what can I do for you?”
“You can tell me why you’re taking the women you work with to lunch. Lunch is supposed to be their own time, not time you steal by forcing them to work through it.”
Collin snorted. “I’ve never forced anyone to work through lunch. What’s this really about?”
“So then you take them to lunch for personal reasons? Surely you’re aware of the conflict this creates.”
Collin lowered himself in his chair and eyed Dean judiciously. “I usually take each new team member to lunch when they first get hired so that I can get to know them and have some one on one time in a casual environment. Is this a problem?”
Dean stood and frowned at the man. Was it really any of his business who she had lunch with? Or if a department head took subordinates to lunch?
It wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. But it was her. And he lost all sense of what was appropriate and acceptable when it came to her.
“No. No, there isn’t. I just want to be sure you’re up to date on all of the policies and procedures when it comes to—”
“Relax, Maxwell. Before you strain something. I’m not trying to steal your girl away. Believe me, anyone with eyes can see you staking your claim on that particular piece of real estate and I like my job.”
Dean sputtered and then composed himself. “I’m not entirely sure who you’re referring to but—”
“Just a heads up, Fate Buchanan doesn’t like to be ordered for. Not that you’ll be ordering for her since you’re clearly much more up to date on all the policies and procedures involving employee relations than I am.”
“You’re out of line, Pierson.”
“And you’re full of shit, Maxwell. Want to know something? Something that happened at lunch?”
Dean arched an eyebrow. If it involved anything other than eating food, Collin’s perfect pretty boy face was in danger of being rearranged.
“She got equally as flustered when I mentioned her seeming interested in you.”
Dean didn’t know how that tidbit of information made him feel. Happy? Elated? Dangerously interested in hearing more about what she’d said about him at lunch? He decided to maintain his hard ass executive demeanor before he started gossiping with Collin Pierson like he was a teenage girl. “No more personal luncheons with employees. It sets a bad precedent.”
Collin chuckled under his breath. “You got it, Mr. Maxwell.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Keaton was right. At some point, he’d become singularly focused on one woman. Never in his life had this occurred. Unless his mother counted. And she’d been terminally ill at the time. Determined not to allow this bullshit to continue, he spent the rest of the afternoon buried in paperwork.
He could lie to Keaton and to his dad, even. But Dean couldn’t lie to himself. Her being at lunch with Pierson had made him see red. One minute he was ravaging her, basically pissing on her, marking his territory so Collin was know she was his. Then he was accosting the man in his office at which point he’d learned that the marking her hadn’t been necessary since he’d apparently been doing it long before he realized.
Jealousy was not an emotion he was accustomed to. And he hated the hell out of it. Hated the feeling that someone else held some type of control over him.
Keaton was right. This was a crucial point in his career. He couldn’t piss it away because of one woman. He had no clue as to what in the hell had come over him since that night back in June, but it was time to cut it the fuck out.
It was one thing for Keaton to notice. Keaton was his best friend and had his back. Collin Pierson would probably gladly stick a knife in it.
Staring at spreadsheets full of numbers he could care less about, he seethed in his office, unaware of the time for the rest of the afternoon. Until Denise poked her head in to say goodnight. Behind his assistant stood the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The one who’d left his office earlier with swollen lips. Two sets.
Just the sight of her was enough to bring back the vivid memory of her coming on his desk. The panic in her eyes as she’d lost control had been a type of turn-on he’d never experienced before. The woman possessed a unique brand of vulnerability that brought him to his knees. Literally.
Damn it to hell.
He watched as she waited for Denise to pass.
Stepping into his doorway, she met his eyes and smiled. “Hey, um, Gwen got a ride with Keaton, so I have her car if you want me to stay and discuss that prop—”
“That won’t be necessary. I took care of it.” He gestured toward the door. “Have a good night.”
He didn’t look down fast enough to avoid the sight of her eyes going wide as they filled with a familiar hurt. He clenched the pen he held and made a few random marks on whatever report happened to be in front of him. Let her go.
It was one thing that Keaton knew about his feelings for her, but hearing Collin Pierson tell him he was being so transparent was alarming. Thank God he hadn’t mentioned the weekend at the beach house to her. If he wasn’t careful, she’d be signing them up for a wedding registry at the damned bed and bath store before he had time to blink. Fuck. That.
When the door clicked into place, he looked up. She was gone. It was for the best. It’s for the best.
Right. It was. He knew that. He also knew that his chest was constricting so tightly that it felt as if he were having a heart attack. She was leaving—again. This time, he was letting her go, but it didn’t change the fact that she was taking a part of him with her. Judging from how deep his chest was aching, it was a vital part.
Rolling the pen through his fingers, he leaned back and tried to breathe normally. Oka
y, so it was done. As it should be. Except…he probably could have let her know that he didn’t want to pursue a relationship of any kind without being such a colossal dick about it. God, he’d hated to see that look in her eyes. The one that said she’d gotten her hopes up only to have them thrown back in her beautiful face.
Words he hadn’t thought of in months came back to him. Words she’d uttered the night they met. “Please don’t stop. I can’t take any more rejection tonight. I can’t. Please.”
Rejection. Someone had rejected her. And now, so had he. On the same day he’d licked her to an orgasm in his office.
All because Keaton had said some scary shit about rings and romantic getaways. If Gwen was cool about casual sex, who was to say Fate wouldn’t be? More importantly, what was he still doing sitting here?
Jumping out of his chair, he banged his knee hard on the underside of his desk, but he barely noticed. Bursting out of his office, he surveyed the empty bullpen. And after sprinting down the hall to the elevators, he watched as the light displaying the numbers of each floor went down until PG lit up. Parking Garage. Fuck.
An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit him as he bolted down the stairwell. If she made it out before he could stop her, if she went home angry with him, hurt by him, that would likely be the end of whatever they had. At that particular moment, he didn’t care if she signed them up for a wedding registry, a baby registry, and what the hell ever other kinds of registries there were. He just didn’t want to face the possibility of not getting to be inside her again. Of not seeing the mischievous little gleam she got in her eye when she bit her luscious bottom lip.
The metal door exploded like gunfire as he shoved it open. The garage was mostly empty since it was nearly six. Thank fuck because he had no clue what kind of car he was looking for. He scanned row after row until he saw her across the lot. Her back was to him and she was struggling with her purse—digging out keys, he figured—while balancing an armload of files. He didn’t call out for fear that she’d tell him to go to hell. Which he deserved. Jogging over to her, he slowed as he approached.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She jumped as soon as his voice broke through the silence. The sound of her keys hitting the concrete startled her even more. Both of them bent to retrieve them so quickly that they nearly slammed into each other. Fate got to them first. After snatching the keys from the ground, she stood and hugged her files to her chest.
“Sneaking up on women in deserted parking garages is not a good idea. If I’d had a free hand, I would’ve tased you.”
“You have a Taser?”
“I do.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Though I probably deserve it.”
Looking at her more closely, he realized that something was off. Her makeup was smeared around her eyes. Was she just tired from a long day at work or had she been crying? He hadn’t noticed the smudges around her eyes in his office a few minutes ago. Seeing the evidence of the pain he’d caused made it hard for him to swallow.
She didn’t say anything, just arched an eyebrow and studied him for a few seconds before turning and opening the door of the compact car. He watched helplessly as she slid the files and her purse into the passenger’s seat.
“Hey,” he began gently. “Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean—”
Before he could finish his apology, she whirled on him and took a step in his direction. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m done. Tag I’m out or whatever.”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“No. I’m serious. This hot-and-cold act may work on whatever other women you’re screwing, but I have other stuff going on. As you already know. So I’m going to have to pass on riding the Dean Maxwell Bipolar Express.”
He couldn’t help but grin even though she was clearly mad as hell. He took a step in her direction. “Fate, don’t be—”
“Dean, I am not kidding. Back off or I will make good on my threat to tase your ass.”
“I might like it.” He winked at her and took another step closer. The heat in her eyes was cooling, so he took one more step and braced his arms against the hood of the car on either side of her. “Let me speak. Please.”
He waited to make sure she was going to let him finish a damned sentence. When she remained silent, he spoke. But what came out of his mouth wasn’t exactly what he’d intended to say. Apparently, his brain or some other part of him that controlled his mouth felt there were more pressing issues to handle at that particular moment.
“Am I still the only one?” He pressed his gaze hard into hers. Suddenly, her answer was important to him. As vital as the oxygen needed for his next breath.
She swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she took a deep breath. “The only one what?” Her expression said that this was a challenge. She was daring him to say the words.
Letting out a low growl, he moved forward until his chest grazed against hers. “You know what. The only one who’s been inside you. The only one to feel you come around his dick. The only one to fuck you.”
She pressed her lips together, but he was betting he’d already seen the answer flash in her eyes. Yes. She hadn’t been with anyone since that night either. Relief tugged at his nerves, but he needed to hear her say it.
Instead, she turned her back to him. There were probably a dozen security cameras on them, but he didn’t care. He gripped her waist from behind and pulled her against him.
“Tell me the truth. Am I?” he asked low in her ear.
A small whimper escaped her throat and it nearly tore him in half. “Why are you doing this to me?”
The tightness in his chest escalated to a painful throbbing. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m sorry. Hey, look at me.” When he turned her in his arms, his stomach clenched as he took in the tears welling up in her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry, beautiful. I’m a dick. I’m sorry.”
She bit her lip in that way that drove him to the brink of insanity.
“I am, aren’t I?”
She sniffled. “A dick? Yes. Yes, you are.”
“You know what I’m asking.”
Suddenly, her eyes were dry and she glared at him with everything she was worth. “Yes, okay? There, you happy now? Congratulations.” She shoved him backwards so hard that he almost lost his grip on her.
He grabbed her wrists to stop her next attempt at pushing him away. Using them to pull her to him, he said, “Tell me why you’re angry.”
“What, is this part of the new Maxwell Medical employee mental health plan?”
“Maybe. Now tell me.” When she didn’t answer right away, he relaxed his grip on her wrists. “I don’t have anywhere to be, Fate. I can do this all night.”
Was he kidding? He wanted to know why she was angry?
“Well, let’s see. I tried to behave like an adult when I realized we were going to be working together and you did everything you could to make me uncomfortable. Including but not limited to threatening to fuck me seventeen more times. When I finally give in, you go down on me in your office until I nearly scream your name for the whole company and possibly the surrounding businesses to hear. Then you dismiss me like some random office slut when I come to talk to you about reciprocating. Does that about cover it?”
“No. It doesn’t. First of all, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. Secondly, I was promising those seventeen times, not threatening. And if I’d known you were going to scream my name, I wouldn’t have stopped you. Furthermore, you will never be some random office slut.”
She hated herself for watching his mouth as he spoke. Hated that she was still turned on by the memory of how he’d used that mouth on her a few hours earlier. “If I recall correctly, your exact words were, ‘I took care of it. Have a good night.’ And I can tell you this much: you can find someone else to ‘take care of it’ because I’m done trying to figure out what in the hell you want from me.”
He sighed loudly and released her
wrists. She was ashamed at how much she was enjoying the slight pinch of pain his grip was causing. She watched as he leaned against the car beside her and glanced up at the florescent lights above.
“For the record, I’ve never had any kind of inappropriate relationship with anyone from the office. I leave that to my dad.”
She didn’t say anything. What could she say? For the record, she’d never had any kind of inappropriate relationship with anyone period.
“I don’t know how to do this, and I had a plan. But then Keaton said some shit and I got all fucked up in my head and…dammit. None of what I’m saying is making any sense, is it?”
She stared at him intently, trying to decide which part of his little speech to respond to first. “What kind of plan?”
He tilted his head toward her. She stared into his eyes as they lit up. “A plan to ask you to spend the weekend with me at the beach house so we could finish what we started last time we were there.” Now he was talking.
“And what did Keaton say to make you behave like a first-class asshole this evening?”
“He said if I mentioned that to you, you’d think it was some romantic getaway and expect me to put a ring on your finger or some shit.”
Or some shit. Well, that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen. She almost laughed out loud. “Okay, first of all, Keaton is not the sharpest tool in the shed. And second of all, what makes you think I’d want a ring from you just because we spend a weekend at your beach house?”
“Right? That’s what I said, but the more I thought about it…”
She couldn’t just stand there and wait for him to cut her deep with whatever painful truth he was about to unleash. “The more you thought about it, the more you realized it was a horrible idea and sleeping with an employee is more trouble than it’s worth. Right. So let’s just keep it professional and pretend that’s how it’s always been. Deal?”
His dark brows lowered as he appeared to consider her offer. After the longest minute of her life, he nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. That’s the best option for both of us.”
Falling for Fate (Second Chance Book 2) Page 15