Playboy Ever After

by Chance Carter

  So that was what I was going to do.

  Even if it killed me.

  Which it might.

  Chapter 11

  Max

  “Yes, Mother. I know which roses to get for a date. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Don’t be like that, Maximilian. You know very well I worry about these things. Constance would be a very smart match, and I don’t want you screwing things up by bringing her yellow roses like a cretin.”

  I rolled my eyes and crumpled another piece of scrap paper on my desk, tossing it across the room to the waiting recycling bin. It bounced off the side and went tumbling across the floor. Damnit.

  “I have to go, Mother. I’m very busy.” I started crumpling another piece of paper.

  She sighed, “Yes, I suppose you are. I’ll see you at the dinner tomorrow. Remember to look sharp!”

  I mumbled reassurances to her and hung up the phone, throwing the paper toward the basket. This time, it was a perfect shot.

  Emma must have noticed that I was off the phone now, as she knocked on my door a second later. I perked up and called for her to enter.

  She looked particularly pretty today. Her long brown hair was tied back from her face, but with a couple strands left down to frame her apple cheeks. She was wearing a plain black dress, but the fit of it more than made up for the lack of embellishments. I admired how it tucked in at her waist and curved with the swell of her hips, cinching back in to hug her toned thighs.

  Emma didn’t notice me checking her out. She was already walking across the room, her face focused on the paperwork in her hands. She was talking too, but I’d zoned out the moment I saw her.

  “Sorry?” I said. “Could you repeat that?”

  Emma looked up when she reached the desk and passed me the papers. “Accounting sent these over. They need your approval so they can submit the financials for the quarter.”

  “Ah, right.” I smiled. “Thank you.”

  Emma nodded and turned. Before she could reach the door, she bent and picked up the paper ball from the ground and tossed it toward the bin. It went straight in, and I saw a victorious smirk on her lips before she turned and continued out the way she came.

  A week ago, there would have been a little more back and forth between us. She’d barely talked to me since Monday, and I couldn’t help but wonder if getting her those pretzels had been a mistake. She said she liked them, though, right? Why would she be mad that I bought her pretzels?

  It wasn’t the pretzels though. It couldn’t have been. So that left only one other option—she was upset at me for Friday night. That didn’t make sense either. We were having fun, a great time, and even though things had gotten a bit sexual for a while, neither of us actually did anything worth being upset over. We were having fun. Or at least I thought we were having fun.

  This was vexing me far more than I would have expected. On top of that, I was pissed off that Paulina had backed me into a corner with the charity dinner. I was expected to go, and since I was already going, there was no reason I couldn’t bring a woman of my mother’s choosing as a date. It wasn’t like I had anyone else to go with.

  I leaned back in my chair and sighed, wishing I could take Emma instead. Though sober reflection the morning after our nightclub encounter reminded me that aggressively coming on to my employee could wind up earning me a lawsuit. Although, I still hadn’t given up on the idea of pursuing her.

  No, it was more her cold attitude over the past week that had put the brakes on that plan. I’d begun to think that I’d been misinterpreting something from her. It was driving me mad. She was all I could think about, which made the prospect of taking another woman to the stupid thing tomorrow even more unappealing.

  Fuck it.

  Fuck. It.

  I sat forward and jammed my finger down on the intercom. “Emma, can you come in for a second?”

  “Of course,” she said back.

  I stood up and straightened my tie, walking around the desk to lean on the other side of it. I was going to sort this out once and for all. And I was going to ask her to come to the dinner with me. I didn’t want to go with Constance. I wanted to go with Emma. And I was too old and too fucking successful to not do what I wanted to do.

  Emma looked surprised when she entered my office a moment later. I watched her eyes dip to my forearms, where my shirt was rolled to my elbows and my biceps strained against the cotton. A faint blush stained her cheeks. She could pretend to be as cold as she wanted, but her body would always betray her.

  “Close the door,” I instructed.

  Emma did, but walked only a couple steps further into the room. “What can I help you with?”

  Her big golden eyes widened when I pushed off the desk and started walking toward her. She held her ground, even when I got close enough to smell the sweetness of her perfume.

  “Do you have plans tomorrow, Emma?”

  She swallowed. “Nope. Why? Do you need me to work?”

  “I want you to come to the charity dinner with me.”

  Emma’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t respond right away. When the eyebrows came back down, they furrowed in a way that made it clear she’d misunderstood my invitation.

  “Did Constance cancel on you?” she asked. “I could always call Paulina and arrange another date. Whatever you need.”

  “This isn’t about what I need.” I smirked. “This is about what I want, Emma, and what I want is for you to be my date to dinner tomorrow.”

  She ran her tongue over her lips and I watched, cock twitching. Her mouth was so plump, so perfect. I wanted to lean down and suck her lower lip between my teeth.

  She caught me looking, and the flash of desire in her eyes ignited something in me. Whatever had been her issue this week, she wanted me, probably just as much as I wanted her. And I would make it clear to her that if she came to this party with me, she could have everything she wanted. And more.

  “What happened to Constance?” Emma asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing happened to Constance. She’s a nice girl, I’m sure, but she doesn’t suit my needs.”

  “Your needs?” Emma scoffed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  The fact that she was back to being more casual was encouraging. And enticing.

  “Maybe ‘needs’ isn’t the right word.” I thrust my hands in my pockets, which naturally curved my body around hers. “I think the word I’m looking for is desires.”

  Emma’s breath caught in her throat. “Desires?” she repeated hoarsely.

  The air between us was electric. I felt such an intense desire that I thought about scrapping the whole seduction plan and just tossing her onto my desk right now. I wouldn’t care if the whole office heard her moans. I just wanted to bury my cock in her and show her what she did to me every fucking day.

  “I desire somebody who I enjoy talking to,” I said, stressing the word desire. “Someone who interests me.” I reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, more because it was killing me that I wasn’t touching her than anything else. She shivered.

  Emma cleared her throat. “I think that I...” She paused, seeming to bolster her strength. “I think that I could fulfill those desires for you.”

  Oh, could she ever.

  My cock strained against the zipper of my pants, and I knew if she looked down she’d notice. I half wanted her to.

  “That’s good to hear.” I quirked the corners of my mouth, staring down at her. “You’ve been an excellent employee so far, but I can’t wait to put your other skills to the test.”

  “My other skills?”

  I paused, letting the innuendo sink in before I answered. “Your social intercourse skills.”

  “Right.” She licked her lips again, and I nearly groaned with the effort not to lick them myself next. “I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I doubt you could if you wanted to.”

  Emma sucked in a breath, and it occurred to me that she’d forgotten to bre
ath. The fact that I’d affected her so heavily only made my arousal stronger.

  “I should get back to work,” she said.

  “Of course,” I grinned. “I hope I’m not working you too hard.”

  She smiled brightly. “Not at all.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because I’m going to be working you very hard tomorrow.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. She slammed it closed a second later, then turned on her heel and headed for the door with a face as red as a raspberry. I watched her go, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

  She stopped in the doorway, hand grazing the wooden frame like she needed something to hang onto. “I look forward to it.”

  It was only after Emma closed the door behind her that I realized my cock was so hard it hurt. I couldn’t risk getting off here, so I’d have to wait until later to act on my arousal. It occurred to me that today was the last day I’d have of imagining Emma naked, without actually knowing what she looked like naked.

  Tomorrow she would be mine. And once she was, I’d make certain that I knew every nook and cranny of her body so that I’d have it burned into my memory forever.

  Chapter 12

  Emma

  “This is so exciting!” Willow said, giggling. “Once a waitress going nowhere, now an executive assistant going to a fancy charity dinner!”

  “Hey, I wasn’t going nowhere!”

  She waved me off. “You know what I mean. Show me what you’re going to wear!”

  I’d gone shopping yesterday after work, still so high on the dark promise of the sexual-tension-laden conversation with Max, that I hadn’t been paying much attention to price tags. I was now the proud owner of a beautiful emerald gown that hung tight to my body to the knee, then flared into a gentle mermaid bottom. I figured I deserved it for all the hard work I’d been doing to get my act together, but I also just wanted to look good for Max.

  “Hang on a sec,” I said. “I’m nearly done with my hair and then I’ll change into it.”

  “Ooh, the grand makeover reveal!” She sighed dreamily. “I love it. I wish I had your life.”

  I laughed and listened to her steps fall away from the bathroom door. I was trying to make the best bombshell curls I could with the limited tools on hand, which included a curling iron from the nineties and an array of all natural hair products.

  “Do you want a glass of wine to help with the nerves?” Willow called.

  “No thanks!” I called back.

  “Okay, well if you change your mind, I’m going to have one.”

  I rolled my eyes in the mirror and kept on curling. I still couldn’t believe that tonight was actually happening. Not just the dinner, but the whole enchilada. There was no way that I’d misinterpreted our conversation in his office yesterday. He wanted me, and we had established that I wanted him too. Whether it was proper or not, something was happening tonight. I’d signed myself up for something and I was betting it was going to be one hell of a ride.

  We hadn’t had any more sexy chats like that since. In fact, Max had been frustratingly polite, but every once and awhile he’d smile like he was undressing me with his eyes, and I felt just as exposed as if he had been. It was our new game, but the newest one would be the one we played tonight.

  Was I ready for that, though?

  My phone buzzed on the counter, and I looked down at the screen. A wave of nausea rolled over me and I had to set the curling iron back down on the counter.

  Lance had texted me. Dare I read what he had to say? What was it going to be this time—just that he missed me, or something more?

  I scowled at my mostly-curled head in the mirror and deliberated whether I should read the text at all. Then I gave in and picked up the phone, unlocking it and holding my breath.

  Hey. Can we meet up tonight?

  The nerve of him! I hadn’t responded to his text, and I hadn’t called him back after Willow hung up on him the time before. Now he wanted to meet up? I slammed my phone on the counter and went back to my hair.

  By the time I finished my last curl a realization struck me. Today was the first time ever that I wasn’t tempted by Lance. I didn’t want to go meet up with him, even though part of me still ached from our break up. It was like he’d been a thorn in my side, and now that the thorn was missing the skin was slowly knitting back together. It felt good.

  I smiled confidently, turning from side to side to admire my hair and the smoky eye shadow I’d applied to my lids. I looked good. I would even go so far as to say that I looked good enough to go out with Max Westfield, which was ideal considering he’d be picking me up in less than an hour.

  “Are you done yet?” Willow whined distantly. “I’m already a little bit buzzed.”

  I laughed and grabbed my phone from the counter, stepping into the hall. Willow had set up camp on the far end of the sofa, which afforded her a view of the length of the hallway.

  “I’ll go put the dress on now,” I assured her.

  She raised the glass of white wine to her lips and took a sip. “While I’m still young, please.”

  The dress was still hung up in the hall closet, next to our winter jackets. I unzipped the cloth cover and pulled it free, then carried it off to the bathroom to change.

  Willow was right. This was surreal. Somewhere out there right now, Max Westfield was putting on a tux and adjusting his cufflinks, and he probably had a whole walk in closet to do it in. I had a tiny bathroom and a half-drunk roommate as my audience.

  I slithered into the dress and admired the fit in the mirror. Although the lighting in the room wasn’t that great, the beauty of the dress still managed to strike me. It went beautifully with my hair, making the red seem more vibrant somehow. Even if I never wore this dress again, I would still never regret buying it. It was like I was making my debut into a whole new life.

  Willow nearly dropped her wine glass when I came out of the bathroom. “Girl, you look hot!” She jumped to her feet, placed her glass carefully on the coffee table, and skipped toward me. “Do a spin!”

  I did, adding a little flair just for her.

  Willow clapped. “That dress looks incredible. You look incredible. I’m so freaking jealous it’s crazy. I should have thought more about the possibilities for swanky events when I was picking a college major. A fancy dinner beats wrangling five year olds any day.”

  I hadn’t quite told Willow what I expected to happen tonight, because I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure whether she would approve or not.

  Who was I kidding? She definitely wouldn’t approve. She’d all but dragged me off of him that night at the club.

  I wanted to share my nervousness and excitement with her, but didn’t know how to approach the topic. I decided to start on a high note.

  “I got a text from Lance while I was in the bathroom,” I said.

  Willow’s expression immediately softened. “Aw, hon, I’m sorry. Don’t let it ruin your special night.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I smiled. “I’m fine, actually. He’s a jerk and I realize that now. I’m not going to let him ruin the night because I’m not going to think about him anymore. I’m ignoring the text message. He is no longer a welcome part of my life.”

  Willow pumped her fist in the air and strode back over to her wine, raising it in a toast to me. “I’m so proud of you! I know how hard this has been.”

  “Thanks, Willow.”

  She tipped the glass back and finished its contents, wiping her mouth afterward with a mischievous grin.

  A loud buzzing sound drew both of our attention to the bathroom, where I’d left my phone.

  “You don’t have to get that,” said Willow, clearly thinking it was Lance calling.

  “I don’t think he’d call that soon after texting me,” I said. “He was always nearly impossible to get a hold of when we were together.” I started walking down the hall.

  “Guys act crazy when they feel rejected though,” she called after me.

  I didn’t rec
ognize the name on the caller ID, so unless it was Lance and he was using somebody else’s phone, I figured it was safe to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Emma Valentine?”

  “This is her.”

  I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, which always made me nervous.

  “Hi Emma, this is Fred Jefferson from Grantham Property Management, how are you doing today?”

  Grantham Property Management. Where had I heard that name before?

  Willow had migrated over to the bathroom to listen in on my call, and I saw her trying to figure it out too. Suddenly, it hit me.

  “Fred! Hi,” I said enthusiastically. “It’s great to hear from you. What can I do for you?”

  Grantham Property Management managed a building whose waiting list I’d applied to when I first moved in with Willow. I’d been looking for a place sporadically, but it was expensive in the city and nearly impossible to find an open place. Hearing back from Grantham could mean the search was over.

  “I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve had a unit open up in our Herrick’s Cross building. You’re next on the waiting list, so I wanted to know if you were still interested.”

  My mouth split into a wide grin. “Yes! Absolutely! That would be amazing!”

  Fred and I made arrangements for me to come view the unit over the weekend, but that was merely a formality. I told him I’d take whatever they had that came available, and I was thrilled to realize that by the beginning of next month I’d have my own place. No more sleeping on the couch, no more inconveniencing my best friend.

  Willow crushed me in a hug the second I hung up the phone. “That’s so exciting!” she said. “I’m going to miss you so much though. Are you sure you don’t want to wait another month?”

  I laughed, patting her on the back. “Not if it would mean missing out on an opportunity to rent in Herrick’s Cross. It is by far the best building in my budget.”

  She sighed, “I know. I’ve gotten so used to you being here though, you know?”