Playboy Ever After

by Chance Carter

  “I wouldn’t want to be here with you any longer anyway,” he snarled. “You stink of whore.”

  I laughed, “Good one.”

  Lance tossed me one last seething look before wrenching open the door and slamming it closed behind him. I let out a gust of breath as soon as he was out of sight, amazed that I’d managed to keep it together. My eyes stung with tears, but I couldn’t tell whether they were tears of anger, sadness, or relief. Perhaps a mix of all three.

  I headed back to my desk and sank back down onto the chair, picking up my pencil with a shaky hand and channeling this odd combination of feelings into swooping arcs and scribbles on the page. It would never be a masterpiece, but this scrambled mass of black and gray had captured the emotions of the day so perfectly that I knew I’d never be able to get rid of it.

  It was hard, what I’d just done. It felt good, but the emotional aftermath took some slogging to get through. I was shaken from the encounter, and it took some time and a bit of wine before I calmed down again.

  Still, at the end of the day, at least it was over. No more Lance. That conversation had an air of finality about it, one that I was happy to sink into.

  No more Lance.

  From here on out, the only man in my life was Max. And I’d keep him as long as I could.

  Chapter 22

  Max

  One thing I didn’t consider before having copious amounts of filthy sex with my personal assistant, was how tempting it would be to call her into my office in the middle of the day to make more tawdry memories. It was like I could feel her presence, not twenty feet from where I sat. Just knowing that made my cock stiffen, and I shifted in my chair as I went through my emails and tried to ignore it.

  I wasn’t sure if I was ready to cross that line yet, the line between having a relationship outside of the office and taking advantage of that relationship while we were both at work. It wasn’t appropriate, but I wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to put me off.

  Emma was wearing a tight blouse today that showed off more cleavage than normal, and the thought of lowering my face to suck on those swollen globes made me too horny to stand. It wouldn’t have to take long. I could call her in here right now, open her blouse and have my way with her. Within ten minutes I could have her fucked and sent back on her way. Nobody would be the wiser. And if someone did suspect? Who fucking cared. I was the boss, and if I wanted to fuck my assistant in my office then I was going to.

  My hand hovered over the intercom button. Was thinking with my dick a good idea in this situation?

  Just as I was about to press the button and call Emma in, she buzzed me.

  “Max, Jeremy is here to see you.”

  I was nearly about to ask her to send him in, resettling in my chair to hide my erection, when he burst through the door. Emma trailed behind him, her pretty face marred by a scowl.

  “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him.” She glared sourly at Jeremy. “He would not be stopped.”

  “Not a very good gatekeeper, are you?” Jeremy joked, ruffling her hair.

  Since Emma and I had officially become a couple, Jeremy had started treating her less like a member of my staff and more like a little sister. I could tell it vexed Emma to no end. Jeremy was a dick of a brother.

  “You know the drill. I shouldn’t have to physically stop you from coming in,” she complained.

  Jeremy winked slyly at her. “Hey, how’s Willow doing?”

  Emma groaned and turned on her heel, closing the door behind her with just a bit more force than necessary. I laughed at the exchange.

  “One of these days she’s going to punch you.”

  “And one of these days I’m going to be very surprised and impressed,” he replied tartly, folding himself onto the chair in front of my desk.

  Excitement shone like sunbeams from his face. Whatever had brought him barging in here must have been big, because he’d been sitting for a few seconds now and so far hadn’t touched a single thing on my desk.

  “So, go on.” I waved a hand in his direction. “You have my undivided attention.”

  Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows. “You know the Bertrand Group?”

  “Can’t say I’m familiar.”

  “Well you should be.” Jeremy picked up a pencil and started rolling it between his fingers. “They’re one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the Caribbean. Or at least they were.”

  I cocked a brow. “What happened?”

  “Life happened.” He snapped the pencil in two, evidently to add to the drama of the charade. “They’re downsizing and selling off some of their properties. It’s a huge opportunity for Goodman-Westfield.”

  I didn’t need Jeremy to tell me that. I’d been looking at branching out our assets into hotels and resorts for some time now. It was the next logical step in my desire to expand the company rather than simply maintaining my father’s empire. Expanding profits was one thing, but I wanted to grow capital. This could be big.

  “Much as I wish you would leave my office supplies unscathed when you come visit,” I said, sending a pointed look at the broken pencil pieces he was now fiddling with. “I do appreciate the news. How soon are they looking to sell?”

  Jeremy grinned. “As soon as possible.”

  “Then I’d better get moving. Can you forward me the details and I’ll get Emma to start making travel arrangements?”

  Jeremy nodded, but made no move to leave. Seeing that he clearly wasn’t finished, I leaned back in my chair and waited.

  “You’re going to have to charm the current owner, Baldric Hammond,” he told me.

  “That’s why I’m going myself and not sending you to do it for me.” The hint of irritation in my voice was more than enough to let him know I didn’t appreciate being told how to run my business.

  He chuckled. “Just trying to help. The competition for the properties is going to be fierce. I know of at least two large firms considering them right now, though nobody has actually met with Hammond yet to talk details.”

  “Then I’ll be the first to do so.” I waved him off. “Go send me the details. If I’m dropping everything to head to the Caribbean, I’m going to need all the time I have to prepare.”

  Jeremy was evidently dissatisfied with this. All he wanted to do when he was in a good mood was hang out, which was fun after we’d won a case in court, but frustrating when I still had other things I needed to do. He set the broken pencil pieces down on my desk and stood, adjusting his tie.

  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

  “Indeed I do.” I grabbed the pencil pieces and tossed them in the trash.

  Just as Jeremy reached the door I called out to him, and he paused before he opened it, looking at me expectantly.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you keeping an eye out for stuff like this.”

  Jeremy gave a solemn nod. He knew how much it meant to me, and he also knew how hard I worked to pursue my goals. It was just one of the many things I liked about him, though sometimes the list of things I didn’t like seemed much longer. Case in point, him stealing a glass paperweight from my bookcase on his way out the door. I would get it back eventually. Probably.

  “Emma,” I called through the intercom. “Could you come into my office, please.”

  Emma arrived in the doorway a moment later, smiling pleasantly. “Jeremy sure seemed excited. What’s up?”

  “An opportunity,” I said, standing.

  She closed the door and walked toward the desk. “What kind of opportunity?”

  “The opportunistic kind.”

  I grinned and walked around the desk to pull her into my arms before she could protest. She tried to wiggle free, but I was stronger, and soon she gave into the hug and leaned her head against my chest.

  Emma was always so funny about how we acted at work, even though it was common knowledge we were together. She thought it was unwise to be so open about our relationship, but I knew better. Half the people in this bui
lding weren’t people at all, but vipers poised to strike as soon as they got the next juicy bit of gossip. It was better to be up front with it, even if it was awkward at times.

  I pulled back from Emma and pecked her on the lips. She smiled.

  “We’re going on a business trip,” I said. “Do you have a bikini?”

  Emma flushed. “As my boss, I don’t think you’re allowed to ask that.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not asking as your boss.” I nuzzled my face back in her hair, kissing her crown. “I’m asking as the man who’s taking you out tonight and fucking you within an inch of your life when we get home.”

  She gasped and automatically looked behind her, as if someone could walk in at any moment. I was sure this anxiety would wear off eventually, but it was good to know that any sordid encounters in the office would take some building up to.

  When she turned back, Emma’s eyes were dark and her lips were parted just a little, like she was waiting for my kiss. There was way too much to accomplish today for me to take them right now, though Lord knows I wanted to.

  “So, baby, do you have a bikini?”

  She shook her head.

  I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and grabbed a few bills, pressing them into her palm. Her eyes widened and she tried to give the money back, but I put my hands up and stepped away.

  “It’s just a bathing suit,” I told her.

  She frowned. “There’s like three hundred dollars here. That’s way too much to buy a swimsuit.”

  I sank back down behind my desk and clicked into my email. Jeremy’s message with the details of the company had already arrived, and I opened it with a small smile. The resort we needed to visit in order to meet with Baldric Hammond was in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. Nice.

  “Then buy some new clothes, too,” I said.

  She put a defiant hand on her hip. “I don’t need any new clothes.”

  I caught her gaze, all traces of humor gone from my face. “You will after I rip yours off you tonight for being so bad at taking direction.”

  Emma’s face flashed bright red and she swallowed hard. I could see how aroused she was just from the way her fist tightened around the wad of cash, and how her thighs reflexively clenched. My cock was instantly hard again, but this time I really did need to work.

  “If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” Emma said, spinning on her heel and making a hasty retreat.

  This was a good day. If my mother and I weren’t fighting, she’d be happy with this too. Soon enough, the Goodman-Westfield brand would be bigger than ever, and the only thing standing in my way was a spot of competition and a couple thousand miles of ocean.

  I could do that. I could win this. In many ways, I was not my father’s son, but in this way, I always would be.

  Chapter 23

  Emma

  The warm, humid breeze tickled the hairs on the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my body. Still, I didn’t move an inch. I was completely in the zone, laser focused on the little boat bobbing a couple hundred yards away from shore on waves like rolling sapphires.

  I couldn’t see anybody on it, and I liked to imagine that it was abandoned. It seemed more beautiful that way, even though I knew nobody would just leave a perfectly good boat out on the water like that for no reason.

  That was what I liked about drawing, though. That boat had a story, one that I might never know, but my drawing would always have a story I was intimately familiar with. Nobody but me decided how the picture would come out, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. In my drawing, the boat was full of mystery and intrigue. It was waiting.

  It was probably strange to add such a somber mood to my drawing when I was working in such an idyllic place. The heat blasted me from all sides, sending trickles of sweat down the back of my neck and under my loose, flowy top. It was one of the new ones I’d bought with the money Max gave me for a swim suit—money that I’d considered sneaking under his pillow the next time I was over at his place.

  I spent it, in the end, because the idea of having some new clothes and a nice new bikini delivered temptation in excess of my pride. I still intended to distance myself from his money as much as possible, but it was okay to splurge a little sometimes, right?

  I guess the reason I felt so guilty about it was because of what Lance had said. Because of what he’d compared me to. I didn’t like taking money from anyone, especially these days, because I enjoyed my independence. I didn’t like taking money from Max, because I didn’t want to feel like a prostitute.

  I wondered how the man in question was doing right now. He was in business meetings all afternoon and had been stressed to the nines since he first found out about the properties for sale. He wanted them so badly I worried about what would happen if he didn’t manage to obtain them. Apparently Baldric Hammond was known for playing hard ball, and today’s big meeting with him was by far the most important event on their calendar while they were here.

  Maybe I should try to get Max to come out here afterward to relax and decompress. There was no way anybody could be stressed out when they were in an environment like this. The sand was so soft it was almost like powder, shining bright white against the mid afternoon sun. Running all along the sandy bank behind me were palm trees of varying sizes. Their shade was keeping me sane in the impossible heat. Outside of the shade it was boiling hot, but here, with a light breeze whispering over my skin, and the sound of the surf tumbling up the beach, I was perfectly content.

  My drawing was turning out to be decent, too. I thought about showing it to Max, but decided against it. I hadn’t shown my drawings to anybody in a long time. I knew it wasn’t Max’s fault that Lance was such an asshole, but I needed a little more time before I started peeling off all the layers of harm Lance had done to me. Max was helping that process along, and for the first time ever I felt like I could even tackle problems in my life that pre-dated Lance.

  God, I missed Max. It was rare that we went a full day without seeing each other, since we were always either at work together or around each other on the weekends. The fact that he’d slipped out of bed at seven in the morning and wouldn’t finish for at least another half an hour was giving me withdrawals.

  I couldn’t wait for his meetings to finish up so we could start enjoying this business trip properly. I hadn’t had a vacation in a long time and I was excited to use this trip as one, even if we were only here for a few days and fun was not necessarily on the agenda.

  Since Max should be finished for the day soon, I decided to head over and meet him.

  I stopped at our room first to drop off my stuff, and changed into a flirty floral dress while I was there. I twirled in front of the mirror like an idiot, then fluffed up my hair a bit and rubbed off the makeup that had migrated down my face, pooling under my eyes.

  Being with Max had created a change in me. I was happier. I twirled in front of mirrors and took delight in wearing fun dresses, just because I could. It was a nice way to feel, almost like being a child again.

  After leaving the room, I headed to the bar and ordered two pina coladas. I couldn’t honestly say I’d ever seen Max drink anything other than champagne, wine, or gin, and I was excited to see how he would react to the sugary treat. I was also excited to taste it on his lips.

  Max’s final meeting was in a private conference room just off the lobby, so I waited in the lobby for him to finish. It was an open-air space, with a circular skylight fifty feet above me and open galleries for several floors above, from which spilled tons of beautiful greenery. Vines and leaves and a few delicate white flowers curled languidly toward the floor, waving with each breath of wind.

  I couldn’t believe that if all went well, Max would soon own this building. Well, his company would, but still. Lance hadn’t even owned a house or a car, and now I was going out with a guy who commanded enough power to own an entire luxury hotel in the Caribbean.

  Correction—several entire luxury hotels in t
he Caribbean.

  It was surreal. And here I was, wearing a floral dress, waiting for him to finish a business meeting with two pina coladas in hand.

  I was about a third of the way into my drink when I spotted a familiar head of dark hair emerge from a door near the reception desk. Max. I shot to my feet, a grin on my face from ear to ear.

  He was still talking to the man he was with and hadn’t seen me yet. I assumed the guy was Baldric, but it could have just been his assistant. He didn’t look particularly imposing or important. He had a squat, round build and dusty gray hair that poked out at odd angles on his head. He ran his hand through it, which I imagined was the root of the problem, and I noticed his fingers were laden with gold rings.

  Max spotted me finally, and I smiled, raising the two glasses in my hand in greeting. He started toward me with loping strides, still talking to his host, who toddled along beside him.

  “Emma Valentine, this is Baldric Hammond,” Max said, sweeping a hand between us.

  So, this was the hotel’s current owner. Crap. I was embarrassed that he’d seen me waiting for Max out here like this, and I didn’t particularly want to involve him in our already complicated work and life relationship.

  “I’m Max’s personal assistant,” I said. “Pleased to meet you. I would shake your hand...”

  Max nimbly plucked the fuller glass out of my hand and stared at it like he’d never seen anything more outrageous.

  Now my hand was free, and I extended it toward Baldric. His irises were gray and incredibly pale. It was like staring into a snowstorm at night. He squeezed my hand firmly and smiled, exposing two rows of disconcertingly straight white teeth.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Valentine.” He shook my hand, holding it for a little longer than necessary. “I hope I get to see you more during your stay.”

  Baldric spoke in a clear English accent that sounded as if it came right from the gutters of London. It was how I would imagine Jack the Ripper to sound.