What Maxi Needs

by Calista Fox

  “Yes.”

  He let out a low groan.

  Why are we traveling this path? It’s so dangerous! Beyond containable danger!

  “Now that’s an outfit I’d like to see you in,” Ryan murmured seductively. “Lingerie and stilettos.”

  Lightning struck. Against her clit. Deep in her core. Her pussy hummed with electricity. Her nipples tightened. Excitement flashed through her.

  “Jesus, Ryan,” she said on a mere wisp of air. “You make me want to rip your shirt open and have my way with you.”

  “I wouldn’t complain.” His look intensified. “Trust me, Maxi. I would not complain.”

  His dark eyes bore into her. She wasn’t even cognizant of her breathing. The only thing that registered was how her body pulsated with a dire need for him.

  Yeah, so much for getting him out of her system on Monday night.

  Exhilaration trilled down her spine, and all she could think of was grabbing him by the suit jacket again and laying a blazing kiss on him.

  But…what was she thinking? For God’s sake! They’d talked about this. Maxi knew better than to cave to lust. Christ, she was in the middle of assembling a presentation—and so was he!

  Yet that seemed to be the last thing on Ryan’s mind. His head dipped. His lips brushed over hers as he said, “You are the ultimate fantasy material, Maxi Shayne.”

  Why was she so aware of him? So drawn to him? So surrounded by him, permeated by him? The very essence of the man literally seeped into her veins. Oozed through her, turning her blood molten.

  Her fingers curled around the flap of his jacket. She had the crazy desire to tug him forward, until their bodies melded and his lips sealed to hers. She had the insane need to let him possess her again—with his assertive moves, his sexy words, his to-die-for kisses.

  “So,” she said as her heart now beat in her throat. “We’re not doing a great job of curbing our desire, here. And I’ve tried. I’ve wanted to thank you for the roses, but we’re always in front of other people. I suppose I could have sent a text, but—”

  “I need to give you my cell number,” he said. “And you’re welcome.”

  Then his mouth covered hers in what she was sure was meant to be a brief kiss, but everything went haywire as usual, and she gave in to the sizzling sensation.

  His arms wound around her waist, and he pulled her to him. Maxi’s fingers plowed through his thick, lush, wavy hair—and she was fairly certain letting go of him would prove impossible.

  Except that a sharp, obnoxious ringing suddenly echoed throughout the room, nearly piercing her eardrums. She released the strands of Ryan’s hair in her hands and snapped to attention. Blue and green lights bounced off the walls as the alarm wailed.

  “What the hell?” she demanded, having no idea where the warning signal came from, since it wasn’t just in her head.

  “Oops,” Ryan said as he stepped around her and punched the Stop button on the copy machine, which jerked to a resonating halt.

  Maxi’s gaze followed his, and she noted all of the curled and mangled papers on the various collating trays.

  “Oh, shit,” she said. “I jammed the whole damn thing.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Fuck!” Maxi clenched her fists at her sides. “This is precisely what we don’t need! We have presentations to give, updated documentation to pass out in like”—she glanced at her watch—“ten minutes before our next meeting!”

  As she mentally berated herself for veering off course with Ryan when she’d sworn she wouldn’t, and had therefore taken her eye off the ball, he said, “Relax, sweetheart.”

  Her head whipped in his direction. “Sweetheart?” Her brows jerked upward.

  He grimaced. “Take a deep breath, Maxi,” he said, correcting his hellacious workplace faux pas. “It’ll take me less than two minutes to fix this machine. We’ll finish assembling your binders, and then I’ll have Avril work on my project. Reasonable enough?”

  Since Maxi’s voice was nowhere to be found, she merely nodded.

  What had rendered her speechless likely wasn’t the screeching alarm from the copier. Or the fact that more sand ran from their hourglass, much too fast, while she tried to prep for her next meeting.

  Chances were damn good it was Ryan’s little term of endearment.

  Sweetheart.

  Oh. Fuck.

  What was worse? The fact that he’d said it…

  Or the fact that her stomach now did death-defying backflips on a tightrope over that one little word?

  She didn’t know. And couldn’t allow herself to deliberate over any inevitable truths.

  Chapter Six

  Ryan found that this new work scenario was more difficult to juggle than when he’d worked complex consultation projects with NASA. Primarily because with the latter, his brain had been fully engaged, and his sole focus had been on producing projections and trajectories that kept the space program on track.

  At Staci Kay Shoes, he wasn’t just evaluating the contingency plans for the manufacturing, warehousing, distributing, and shipping functions, he was completely, one hundred percent, shockingly wrapped up in Maxi.

  But he tried to put it all into perspective, stick to the objectives they’d laid out. Even if he sensed that it wouldn’t be tough to get her to cave to his desires, despite the decision she’d made Monday night. Especially after their recent copy room encounter.

  If she hadn’t been jerked back into reality when the machine had jammed—such unfortunate timing—he just might have been able to convince her to give work and play a go.

  * * *

  Taking a break from estimations and equations on Wednesday evening, Ryan met three friends for dinner and drinks at a sports bar in Baltimore Harbor. They’d also recently extricated themselves from the Dr. Elizabeth Sherman high-society circle, following Ryan’s engagement debacle, and had joined his proverbial corner.

  Nathanial “Nate” Crispin was a professor in Physics at Georgetown. Theodore “Ted” Alsup was curator for one of the most prestigious museums on the East Coast and, in actuality, the entire country. And Liam Hallstead was a brilliant plastic surgeon who’d operated on two U.S. presidents, several foreign dignitaries, and a slew of celebrities.

  Nate asked in a chipper tone, “How’s the shoe business, Ryan?”

  Ryan chuckled. “I work with women who wear six-inch heels and short skirts. So…extremely stimulating.” Though it was only Maxi who got him worked up.

  Ted gave a groan of disgruntlement. “Ship several pairs to the museum, won’t you? I’m surrounded by ankle-length skirts and blouses in drab colors of slate gray and mousy brown, along with flats…or, what do they call them now? Ballerina shoes, so I’ve heard.”

  A grin touched Ryan’s lips. “You never used to complain about that. Not when you were dating Emily.” An extremely conservative sort with glasses and a tight bun.

  “That does happen to be my type,” Ted admitted. “But she left me for a neurosurgeon.” He shot Liam a look. “He’s even more successful and renowned than you. What do you have to say about that?”

  Liam bounced a glance back at Ryan. “Send the stilettos to my department as well. Clearly, your disposition has improved greatly since you’ve discovered women in high heels.”

  “It’s not just the high heels,” Ryan said. “It’s the attitude, the confidence, the sexiness that comes with them.”

  As Ryan took a long drink from his beer, he contemplated this. Then shook his head and amended, “Actually, that’s not entirely true.” A mental image of dainty Elizabeth in six-inch, siren-red stilettos popped into his mind. A mentally Photoshopped image, to be specific. Because she’d never worn a heel over two inches. So the vision in his head absolutely did not compute. “No, not every woman can pull off the style. Some just have that certain—”

  “Je ne sais quoi?” Liam offered.

  “No,” Ryan said with conviction. “That certain hotness.”

  “Huh,”
Ted mused, apparently caught off guard by Ryan’s assessment—and his new terminology. This really wasn’t their normal topic of conversation.

  The others looked equally perplexed.

  Nate said, “So I take it you’re over Elizabeth?”

  “What I am,” Ryan told his friends with a certain level of audacity, “is a newly enlightened, liberated man.”

  Liam’s brow jerked. “Because of the shoes?”

  “Let’s face it, gentlemen,” Ryan said. “We’ve succumbed to an upper-echelon culture of diamonds and pearls. Tuxedos and ascots. For purposes beyond our comprehension.”

  “Because polite society demands it?” Nate retorted.

  “No,” Ryan countered. “Because certain curriculums we follow demand it. I’m comfortable with my academic and professional associations. It’s the romantic ones that I reflect upon…and cringe. That’s where I’m dissatisfied. I blame myself, completely, for the choices I willingly made. But…” He lifted his pint and confidently added, “No more.” Then he downed the remainder of his beer. Not exactly something he was known for doing. Yet the gesture had a masculine appeal to him this evening.

  Indeed, he certainly was feeling masculine—not subjugated—since meeting Maxi Shayne.

  His friends stared at him. Gaped.

  Yet they all seemed to recover fairly quickly.

  Liam said, “I’ll confess, I could use a fire lit underneath me.”

  Nate and Ted nodded.

  Ryan told his friends, “We’ve thought for so long that we belong with a certain type of woman. One with all the right credentials, the perfect pedigree, the right family and friends. Where has that gotten any of us?” He thought of Maxi’s words, about how being emotionally invested in a man had gotten her nowhere. Because, clearly, she’d chosen the wrong men. Ryan had given in to that same mentality with the females he’d associated with, and had come out no better off than she had.

  Already, however, he felt a stronger connection to Maxi than he’d felt with any other woman. And he suspected she was experiencing the same on her end. Even if she was in massive denial at the moment.

  Ryan had previously been adamant about not getting tangled up with a woman again. Had taken the stance that it just wasn’t worth the hassle and the heartbreak.

  Then he’d met Maxi.

  And everything had changed.

  Not just his mentality on relationships, but his own level of confidence within one.

  Perhaps it was time to assert himself. Take the plunge. Go for it.

  With Maxi.

  He said to his friends, “Staci’s pleading with me to help her company answered my own cry for help—one I didn’t even know I’d sent out.”

  And goddamn it, he was man enough to face facts and alter his direction in life.

  Fueled by Staci Kay Shoes and a sexy, dark-haired dynamo!

  * * *

  Ryan rode a substantial high as the end of the workweek segued into a working weekend. He didn’t mind the extra hours required of him. In fact, the momentum from the newly implemented strategies continued to increase, and the building was abuzz with activity. He found that he liked all of the hustle and bustle, all the various interactions with executives throughout the course of the day.

  Naturally, it wasn’t easy keeping his hands to himself whenever he and Maxi got caught in a moment alone—or trying to figure out which cards to play in his deck to win her over. He had equal trouble finding that right balance of gazing at her when she spoke to a group, rather than ogling her. And damn, curbing his intense yearning to watch her walk across a room in her high heels! That was pure torture.

  So it was actually a good thing they were in crisis management mode so that he could retain some semblance of focus on something other than the gorgeous object of his desire. Maintain his professionalism.

  Yet on Sunday morning, he blurted, “You look particularly enticing,” as he stole behind Maxi while she bent over the conference room table to snag a bagel from the box in the center, before the others arrived.

  Okay, so that whole thing about retaining focus and maintaining professionalism was a ridiculous stretch of the imagination. An improbability when it came to Maxi. Definitely grounded in theory and completely inconceivable in reality.

  His cock twitched at the sight of her very fine ass encased in a tight black skirt. And the way the hem rose not far below those perfectly rounded and tempting cheeks not only aroused him further but also gave him a rush of intrigue over what color panties she wore today, what material they were made of—lace, satin, silk…?

  She plopped a dollop of strawberry cream cheese on her plain bagel, then tossed a flirty look over her shoulder as she said, “Gotta tell you, Einstein, that’s the way every woman wants to be greeted first thing in the morning.”

  He all but salivated as he continued to admire her long, bare legs and her luscious ass, yet managed to say, “It’s a shame we’re wasting what has the potential to be a mammoth hard-on.”

  She laughed softly as she straightened and turned to face him. “I’d tease you about having an inflated male ego, except for the fact that I’ve seen the goods.”

  Leaning in close, he said, “You’ve done more than see the goods—and you’ve done more than sample.”

  “Mm, so true.” A sultry moan fell from her parted, glossy lips. “Damn, that’s a visual that’s going to stick with me all day.”

  “And you think I can simply erase from my mind the memory of you bent over a table with your ass in the air?” His expression turned intent as he added, “Primed just for me.”

  Maxi took a tiny step closer, effectively closing the gap between them. “That’s a pretty big assumption.”

  In a low, intimate tone, he asked, “Is there anyone else bunching your skirt around your waist and fu—”

  “Ben.”

  Ryan’s brow jerked up. “Huh?”

  Maxi shot Ryan a be good! look and stepped around him. “Nice to see you, Ben.” She extended her hand to the VP, and they shook. “Sorry to spoil your Sunday.”

  “It’s fine,” Ben told her. “This is important, Maxi. A definite all-hands-on-deck scenario. Besides,” he added with a wink, “it gets me out of Sunday brunch with my bickering sisters.”

  “Yes, there is that,” Ryan interjected. And steered Ben away from Maxi. A purely territorial move. An unexpected one. Ryan had never been the possessive sort. Then again, he’d never laid eyes—or a claim—on a woman like Maxi Shayne.

  And Ben seemed to always be one of the first to arrive at a meeting to chat her up.

  While Ryan felt compelled to shoo away the vultures, Maxi appeared grateful he’d stepped in so that she could eat her bagel before the meeting started.

  The session lasted most of the morning, then everyone was off to their departments to keep the forward movement from slowing.

  Ryan followed Maxi into her office, and they spent the better part of the day on their own operational issues—while Ryan tried to keep the image of her bent over the conference room table from his mind.

  As the clock ticked toward seven, he finally suggested, “How about dinner?”

  “Great idea. I’m starving. More Chinese or should I call the deli?”

  Flipping the cover on his iPad, he said, “I was thinking it’d do us good to get the hell out of here for a few hours.”

  She hedged, her shoulders bunching.

  “Maxi.”

  “Ryan,” she challenged. “I thought we agreed—”

  “We didn’t agree to anything. You dictated, I let you. But now I’m saying that I want to have dinner with you. Away from this place. It’d do us both wonders to recharge the batteries.”

  She let out a long sigh. Rolled her head as though working out kinks in her neck. “You’re right. No offense—because I find all of your charts and graphs hugely helpful in the grand scheme of things—but my eyes are pretty much crossed at this point.”

  He grinned. “At least you’re woman enough to
own up to it.”

  Snapping her notebook closed, she stood and walked over to the coatrack. “I have a gorgeous pork loin about to go to waste because I forgot to freeze it when the shit hit the fan here at work. I can pop it in the oven and whip up a salad and baked potatoes. Sound good?”

  Ryan groaned. “As hungry as I am, McDonald’s would probably suffice. But the pork loin is much more appealing.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Even more appealing if you cook in nothing but an apron and stilettos.”

  “Ryan.” She smirked—not at all chastising. Seductive was more like it.

  That was when he fully realized she couldn’t resist him. And he wasn’t going to let her try.

  He crossed to where she stood and murmured, “Fine. Skip the apron.”

  Maxi laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. “Mind out of the gutter, buddy. We still have work to do tonight.” She grabbed her laptop bag and took it back to her desk. She packed up her documents and computer, then said, “I’ll meet you in the reception area.”

  He headed to his own office to collect his overcoat and work-related items. Then met up with Maxi. As they took the elevator to the underground garage, she gave him her home address and the general directions to her condo.

  “Bring your laptop with you,” she reminded him. “Lots to do.”

  Ryan didn’t balk.

  They were spending twelve to fourteen hours a day together. Immersed in corporate minutiae, sure. But with every second that slipped by, they were both learning so much about each other. How they each responded to certain situations. How they each related in similar ways during crises. How they gelled mentally on some initiatives and challenged each other on others.

  He left the parking garage and traveled to her condo complex, stopping along the way to pop into a grocery store for a box of condoms and a bottle of wine. Then he continued on to her place. Eager about what he might discover there…

  * * *

  Maxi buzzed Ryan into her building and greeted him at the door in a black satin bra, boy-shorts, and black leather thigh-high boots.