Max plunged another finger into me and I curled up toward his hand, my moan more of a cry than anything else.
“Please, Max,” I said.
“Please what?”
“Don’t keep teasing me. I need you.”
His whole demeanor changed. He rolled to the side and pulled me on top of him, unclasping my bra faster than it took for me to straddle him in the first place. My breasts swung free, nipples peaked and aching. He leaned forward and captured one in his mouth, sucking and licking it until I thought I might burst. He switched to the other one, making a delicious growl in his throat that I felt deep in my core.
Max leaned further forward still, until he had somehow rolled me back onto my back and was kneeling above me. His smile as he relieved me of my panties could only be considered mischievous, and hell did it look good on him. I felt like Christmas had come early, and this year’s present was wrapped in a tight-fitting pair of boxer shorts that left little to the imagination. He pulled them down as I watched, reaching forward to rub one hand on the top of my mound as he pulled himself free of the boxers. If it were a cartoon—a very R-rated cartoon—my eyes would have popped out of my head. I could barely keep them contained when I saw the size of his meat. It was thick, with a veiny ridge down the bottom and a swollen mushroom head.
Merry Christmas to me.
Max backed away momentarily, feeling behind him for the drawer of his nightstand. I was amazed how much he could accomplish while keeping his eyes on me the whole time. He got a condom, put it on, and was back on top of me before I’d even had a chance to realize that this was really happening. He was really on top of me, his cock was really poised at my entrance, and I was really about to fuck my boss.
And god, did it feel good.
“Ready, baby?” Max asked.
“Go slow.” I laughed. “You’re, uh, a little bigger than I’m used to.”
Max rested his hands on either side of my head and began to slowly push inside, filling me to the point I thought he’d never get it in. Then, mercifully, my body relaxed to accommodate his girth. And from there it was clear sailing.
I felt every inch of him as he sank inside, and the look of pure bliss on his face told me he was feeling me too.
My core sizzled, and I could feel energy growing there. Each stroke brought me closer to that high, and I had no doubts about getting there. With another lover, maybe, but with Max? Not a chance. If there was one thing I knew I could rely on, it was that his lovemaking would leave me beyond satisfied.
His thrusts brought our hips flush against each other, his chest squeezing against mine. There was no space between us, and we exchanged air and the slick of our sweat. I dragged my nails down his back to pull him closer, loving the way his body overwhelmed mine. He was so much bigger than me, and a million times stronger than me, but I felt safer than I’d ever felt before in his arms.
His lips brushed my earlobe. “You feel so good. You’re so fucking tight.”
His dirty talk thrilled me, even if I didn’t feel confident enough to try out any of my own. I wished I could, though, because I knew it would drive him wild. And I’d do anything to drive Max wild.
The pressure in my core grew, coiled. I buried my face in his neck and kissed him with a fierce intensity as I started to climb a slope of pleasure, one that I knew was going to end in fireworks. My body shook as I held onto him with all my might.
“I’m close,” I whispered into his ear.
It was hardly expert dirty talk, but it achieved the effect I thought it would. Max groaned and his thrusts went deeper, harder. He sat back on his heels and lifted my legs over his shoulders, holding me by the hips as he slammed his hips into mine ruthlessly.
The sudden change was enough to send me hurtling over the edge. I cried out, and it felt like I was doing so with every cell in my body. We were all crying for him. We all needed him. He muttered something unintelligible and crashed forward again, again, again. Each thrust sent more waves of pleasure undulating through me. My hair stood on end. My body crashed against the waves. I shook.
Max stilled above me, holding his hips tight against mine and screwing his eyes shut with ecstasy. He groaned and fell over top of me a second later, chest heaving and skin sticky with sweat. He kissed my shoulder where his head rested against it, which was an unexpectedly tender gesture, but also one that was completely welcome.
I pushed at his shoulder. “I’m thirsty.”
“I should expect so,” he chuckled, biting my shoulder. “I’ll get up and get you some water.”
I frowned. “I can get my own water.”
“Sure you can,” he said, inching his mouth up my neck. “But you’re not allowed to leave this bed. Not yet.”
I’d been dreaming about Max’s scent for weeks. That warm, spicy musk that always drew me in and made me want to get as close as possible was as familiar to me as the smell of a campfire in the summer, or the earthy scent of the forest after the rain. It was a smell that I’d logged away in my memory with all the other delightful smells I experienced, and it crept out from time to time in the form of dreams.
Today, however, when I woke up with Max’s scent in my nostrils, it wasn’t a dream. It was real life.
Really real life.
His arm was heavy on my waist, holding me in place even though I never wanted to move again. We both lay on our sides, with my face tucked in to his warm chest and his resting somewhere above mine on the pillow. It was an incredibly intimate way of sleeping, as far as my experience went, and it was my new favorite thing.
The only problem was that my throat was as dry as the Sahara and there was no refreshment within reach. I knew that battling my thirst would only end up with me on the losing end, so I decided not to even try it.
It was the weekend. I could get back into bed after I was properly hydrated, and snuggle up against my boss at my leisure. And then maybe we could do something a little less innocent.
I rolled over, but as soon as I did Max’s arm tightened and he pulled me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured in a ragged, sleep-stained voice.
I giggled, “To get some water. I’m parched.”
“Why are you always so damn thirsty?”
“I don’t know, because I’m a human being? Plus. I have to pee.” I elbowed him lightly in the chest, much as I hated having to eject myself from the hold. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Max was still half asleep, that much I could tell. If he weren’t, he probably wouldn’t have let me go so easily. He was a bit of a control freak, always had been, and now that we were intimate I was experiencing a whole new side to him.
His arm retracted, and he sighed heavily and turned on his back. I got up and grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor, buttoning it up while I looked down at him with a smile.
His hair was ruffled, and he had more stubble than I was used to seeing. I’d never seen lazy morning Max before. I hoped I would get to see much more of him.
I padded out to the kitchen with bare feet, smiling to myself as I grabbed a glass and held it under the water dispenser in the fridge door. Apart from grabbing some furniture, there was nothing I had to do today and nowhere I had to be. I was feeling particularly inspired, and since Max and I had made up I decided that I would accept his gift after all. That meant today I could do a little drawing if I felt so inclined, which I did. It was a happy thought.
There was a metallic jangling from the front door, and I froze. Was Max expecting someone?
Before I could think to run back to his bedroom, the door swung open. In walked my literal nightmare.
Paulina shrieked, like she’d walked in on a crime scene rather than her son’s assistant wearing his shirt. The woman beside her, a pretty brunette wearing an adorable polka-dotted dress, looked between us in alarm but said nothing. I expected she had no idea what was going on, which was good since neither did I.
“Mrs. Westfield...” I started to say, unsure of ho
w to best remedy the situation.
It wasn’t my fault she’d barged in here unannounced. It also wasn’t my fault that she was now doing her best impression of a wide mouth bass.
Heavy thumps preceded Max’s arrival into the kitchen. He wore only his pants, which meant that between the two of us there was a full outfit.
“Mother! You can’t just barge in like that!” he yelled, moving to stand between us, like I needed shielding from her gaze.
Paulina glowered at him. “I can when you’re late for breakfast! I thought something had happened to you. And then I come over to find that you were too busy to come see your poor mother for breakfast because you were...” Her expression deepened into disgust. “Fornicating with your staff!”
My face grew hot enough to roast marshmallows on. Suddenly I was happy that Max was standing between us. I didn’t think I could handle Paulina’s wrath without him.
“Yes, I forgot about breakfast,” he hissed. “But I didn’t forget that it was supposed to be just the two of us. Who the hell is this?” He gestured toward the girl, who was similarly embarrassed.
Out of everyone in the room, I didn’t expect to relate most to the girl Max’s mother had clearly been hoping to set him up with.
“Maximilian Augustus Westfield!” Paulina wailed. “How dare you talk to me like that! And how dare you embarrass this poor girl, who only came to breakfast as a favor to me. Her father is one of the biggest bankers on Wall Street, you know. She’s not the sort you want to be shunning!”
From behind, I had a great view of Max’s back muscles as they tensed with rage. He was gorgeous. I hoped I never made him this angry, but damn he looked good this way.
“I’m not dealing with this right now,” he said. “You’ve gone too far this time, Mother. I’ll call you later, but for now you should leave.”
“You can’t kick me out, because Christine and I are leaving!” she sniffed. “I am just so embarrassed, I cannot believe you. You’re more like your father than I gave you credit for.”
With those cutting words hanging in the air, Paulina turned primly on her heel and stormed out of the apartment, Christine tagging along hurriedly behind her.
I remembered what Max had told me about his father, about how the only black marks on the man’s record in his mind were his infidelities, and my heart hurt. How could she say something like that to him?
Max stared at the door for a few seconds before turning to face me. His eyes were dark, troubled, and his hands were still clenched into fists at his sides.
“I’m sorry about that.” His voice was low and cold. He may have been apologizing to me, but his mind was somewhere else.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay,” I said. “I should go though.”
“Emma...”
“No,” I said quickly. “I really have to go. I’ve got lots of stuff to do today and I’m already a bit late getting started.” I turned and disappeared down the hall to his bedroom, swiping my clothes from the floor and putting them on as quickly as possible. Max followed me into the bedroom.
“Don’t let her freak you out,” he said. “She’s always a drama queen.”
“No, it’s fine.” I finished pulling on my shirt and tugged my hair up into a high pony with the hair tie from my jeans pocket. “I just have stuff to do, Max. I can’t stay.”
I hoped that if I kept repeating that, I wouldn’t have to tell him the real reason I was leaving. The real reason I was freaking out.
He came over and stopped me, hands holding my shoulders. His eyes bore into mine and he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. The look he gave me when he pulled back was questioning, like I hadn’t reacted properly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“Sure.”
I walked out, right past the drawing supplies and the glass of water that had sealed my fate.
Last night was amazing. Hell, it was beyond amazing. But what kind of future could I have with a guy whose mother liked me as a person, but would never be okay with me as a romantic interest for her son? Paulina was going to continue trying to set him up on dates. She wouldn’t rest until she saw him paired up with some heiress who had everything going for her.
Her interruption today was just a reminder of the inevitable. Max seemed to like me, but did he like me enough to defy his mom and indulge in behavior that put him a step closer to being the version of his father he disliked? I didn’t want to find out.
If it came down to it and Max had to choose, I would be heartbroken if he didn’t choose me. So it was time to take me out of the equation.
Chapter 19
Emma
The worst part about sleeping with your boss and then having an awkward and embarrassing run in with his overbearing mother is that you can’t escape what happened. I spent all of Sunday ignoring Max’s calls, but it was a fool’s errand.
I could ignore him all I wanted, but come Monday morning I was sitting at my desk just a few feet from his office door. I thought about calling in sick, but that seemed highly unethical, and he would know exactly what was going on, of course.
This was exactly why I didn’t want to do this in the first place! We’d gone too far, only to have things go sour—and leaving me with no place to hide. The only option was to show up or quit, and I couldn’t afford to bail. I also couldn’t imagine myself ever doing something so cowardly, but the temptation was certainly there.
I was a nervous wreck as I walked to my desk Monday morning. I nodded at the people I passed, who smiled back and wished me a good morning like always, completely unaware of the shit storm I’d weathered over the weekend. Max’s door was closed, so I couldn’t even tell whether he was in or not. Maybe he would take the day off and I’d be given a reprieve from this whole situation for the day.
My intercom buzzed the moment I sat down. “Emma, please come see me in my office.”
Or… maybe not.
My heart kicked into overdrive and I ran a hand through my hair as I stood on shaky legs and walked the few steps to his door. Inside, Max was leaning against the front of his desk. I noticed he preferred that position when he wanted to have one of our more personal chats.
“Close the door,” he said, his tone cold. His eyes were also cold. Hell, there was even a frosty breeze blowing through this office, and it wasn’t from the warm spring day outside.
I gulped and closed the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, for starters you can tell me why the fuck you haven’t been returning my calls.”
“I was busy yesterday,” I lied.
Max saw right through it. His pinched frown indicated that he was very displeased with the lie.
“Tell me the truth, Emma,” he commanded. “Why were you ignoring me?”
I found it almost impossible to deny this man something he wanted.
“Max,” I sighed, sagging with my back against the door. “Things could never work between us. What are we doing?”
Max pushed off from the desk and walked toward me, stopping halfway across the room. At least he wasn’t crowding me today, which was a good thing for my willpower. I wasn’t sure I could stay strong if he got too close to me, and I think he knew that too.
“I wasn’t aware you were a psychic,” he said, with no trace of humor. “What other predictions can you make? Are the Yankees going to win the World Series this year?”
I frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“So tell me what you mean then,” he retorted. “I’d love to know how you could possibly predict something like that based only on a single unfortunate interaction with my harpy mother.”
It’s not just that,” I replied, shaking my head. “You’ve got to know it’s not just that.”
“Then what else is it?”
I sighed. Getting into this at work seemed wrong, but he was the one paying me, so if he wanted to pay me to argue with him, I guess that was his business.
“We’re tw
o different people, Max. We’re in different worlds.” I stood straight, folding my arms over my chest. “For starters, you don’t ever want to get married. Getting married is something that’s important to me. Then there’s the fact that I simply don’t fit into your life. Nothing indicates that more than what happened with Paulina yesterday, but I’m sure we could find a million other obstacles between us.”
“That’s it? That’s the best you’ve got?”
Max shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped toward me again, closing the distance between us until he towered overhead. I did everything I could not to lean in and wrap my arms around him.
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that,” he said. “I want you. That’s all that matters.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not the way the world works, Max,” I snapped. “If it were, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation. I’m not going to be your secret office romance just because you’re not ready to quit me just yet. That’s not fair to me and goes against everything I’ve been working toward.”
Willow would be really proud of me for standing up for myself. I couldn’t wait to tell her about this conversation when I got home, mostly because I couldn’t wait to get home. I could hide in my new bed, if only until tomorrow.
“I don’t want you to be my secret office romance,” he said. “My mother can’t keep setting me up with girls if I’m off the market, so I’m taking myself off the market.”
I furrowed my brow and stared up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
The edges of Max’s mouth quirked and he leaned down toward me just enough to make my heart jump.
“I mean you’re my girlfriend now. Officially.”
I had conflicting feelings about this statement. On the one hand, being Max Westfield’s girlfriend sounded like an actual dream. Even though I was actively trying to end things with him, I still obviously burned for him with every cell of my being. The idea of having him to myself was so tempting that I nearly forgot all about my resolve and jumped into his arms right then and there.
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