by Molly Harper, Stephanie Haefner, Liora Blake, Gabra Zackman, Andrea Laurence, Colette Auclair
Mia shook her head.
Logan came out, just in jeans and flip-flops, full chest on display. Was this barbaric chest beating going to end anytime soon?
“You’re up,” Bryn said to Oliver and he headed toward the bathroom.
“Need me for anything else?” Logan asked, T-shirt finally in place, and flexed his arm. “I can lift things if you need me to.”
“We’re good,” Bryn said, stifling her laughter.
“Okay. See ya later.” He grabbed his helmet and headed for the exit.
“He’s . . . interesting.” Bryn turned to Mia. “A little corny, but sweet.”
“Yeah, but I think for this kind of thing, a little cheesiness is good, right?”
“Women like funny guys.” Bryn began mixing the molding solution for Oliver’s mold. “And they like tall, dreamy guys like Mr. Christensen. Especially women like you.”
“Oh, no. I told you, and him, this is now a completely professional relationship, regardless of what happened before.”
“So you admit. There was more.”
She could never lie to Bryn. “Maybe. For a minute. But finding out someone is a liar can completely ruin your opinion of them. So now it’s strictly business. And besides, I gave up on dating.”
“What? Why? I’m supposed to live vicariously through you.”
“It’s just not worth it. I have too much to focus on right now with the shop. And all men are jerks anyway.”
“Not true. I found a great one.”
“Exactly. He was perfect. I couldn’t find a perfect guy for me, so I’m giving up.”
“Mia, that is stupid.”
“It’s not. You were lucky. I’ve dated every loser on earth during the past decade. I’ve been cheated on, forgotten about, stolen from. Don’t even get me started on the freaky bedroom stuff I’ve been asked to do. And now I’ve been lied to. So I’m done.”
“Okay! Okay! Got it. Men are scum.” Bryn looked toward the bathroom. “So what’s taking him so long? We only have a few minutes to use this stuff before it’s no good.”
She knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”
“Um, can you send Mia in?”
“For the love of God.” Mia came over to the closed door. “What’s wrong?”
“Just come in.”
“No. Tell us.”
Silence.
Patience was never Mia’s virtue. “Come on. We need to get this done before the molding solution gets bad.”
“I’m having some . . . trouble . . . getting ready.”
The ladies snickered.
“There’s a lingerie catalogue in there. Look at it.”
“I already tried.”
Bryn locked eyes with Mia. “Just go in there. I don’t want to waste the stuff.”
“You are so gonna owe me.”
“As soon as we sell some dildos, dinner is on me.”
“Mexican. With multiple margaritas.”
“Done.”
Mia grabbed the mold from Bryn and opened the door. Oliver sat on the closed toilet lid, pantsless. He stood, buttoned dress shirt falling just above his thighs. Very Risky Business. But hotter, since there were no tighty whities. He’s your employee, remember?
“What do you want me to do?”
“You just being here helps.” He reached under his shirt and started stroking.
Mia’s mouth suddenly felt like the Sahara, while other parts of her body became a river. Deep breath. You can’t touch him. You don’t want touch him. Oliver is off-limits.
“I think I’m ready.” He pulled his shirt up to reveal his ridiculously amazing piece of manhood.
God, it was gorgeous. Forget the desert, Mia was now salivating.
“Um, let’s do this before the solution hardens.” She got into the same position she’d used with Logan, but Oliver put his hand to her shoulder. The heat saturated her sweater, igniting her skin.
Mia checked her watch then closed her eyes. This minute and a half was going to drag by, but she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Bad! Definitely bad! She was far too close to Oliver to maintain a proper level of sanity.
She kept her gaze on her watch as second by tantalizing second ticked by. Don’t you dare look up at him. Mia was having a real hard time listening to her inner guardian. Glancing up, just for a second, piercing pools of blue stared down at her, hungry, devouring her. Oh, shit. I’m in so much trouble.
Back to her watch. “Time’s up.”
She helped him out of the mold. It didn’t come free quite as easily as it had with Logan.
“What do we do now?” he asked, his voice caressing her like a velvet blanket.
“Um . . .” She’d lost all brain function.
Oliver took the mold from Mia and set it on the counter. He turned back and she didn’t give him the chance to say anything. She threw herself on him, hushing him with her kiss, and took him in her hand.
Oliver let out a low moan that vibrated from the back of his throat. If she didn’t stop her hand movements, it would all be over. She didn’t want it to be over. Not yet. Not until she’d gotten what she so desperately needed from him . . . again.
As if reading her mind, Oliver moved Mia’s hand and yanked her sweater over her head. The moment of disconnection only fueled her desire for him, and she crashed her mouth back into his the second she could. His hand pulled at her black pencil skirt, forgoing its removal. Instead he pushed her soaked underwear aside and caressed the sweet spot that craved his touch. She almost orgasmed on the spot.
Oliver bent his head, her hands running through his hair, as she let her head roll back, giving him full access. His lips traveled across Mia’s collarbone. “God, I love touching you.”
That’s all she needed to hear. “I want you. Now.”
He lifted her up and set her on the edge of the counter, the chill of it a drastic contrast to the heat of her skin. As he pushed into her, their cries mirrored one another’s. It wouldn’t be long.
Oliver looked into her eyes and Mia pulled him close. She tried to kiss him, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I want to watch your face,” he said. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”
Her face immediately warmed. She didn’t know what she looked like during that moment. She stared into his baby blues as he moved faster, a strategically placed finger on her clit sending her over the edge, and she turned away just as she climaxed. As she clung to him, jolts of pleasure surging through her body, he erupted with his own orgasm.
Mia kept her arms around Oliver’s neck, waiting to regain her strength, their heaving chests returning to normal breathing patterns.
“We gotta stop doing this at work,” he said, laughing.
“I know.” Mia giggled, too. “It’s really inappropriate.”
He pulled back, meeting her gaze. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I’ll take you on a real date.”
“Um . . .” Mia tucked a few frazzled strands of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think so. I’m your boss.”
His eyebrows scrunched and a sly yet amused grin flourished. “We just had sex . . . great sex . . . for the third time, the second of which was at the workplace. I think we’re far past caring that you’re my boss.”
She wiggled off the counter. “But I should care. This isn’t right.”
He reached for her waist, pulling her to him. “I want to be with you. I’ll quit if I have to.”
“You just signed the contract!”
“Then it’s settled. Dinner tomorrow night.”
Say no. “Okay.”
Mia’s inner guardian was so going to kick her ass later.
CHAPTER Eleven
Oliver left the shop on a high. It had been a long time since he’d felt this fantastic. Before he started dating Alexiana, for sure. And in the last few months, there had been little to be happy about.
Ever since he’d found out Alexiana was pregnant, life had been decidedly unhappy for him. The cell door had sla
mmed shut. No respectable Christensen man would abandon his child.
And neither would he, but supporting the child meant he’d forever be attached to a woman he did not love—and should have never let himself get involved with.
Now he’d found a real reason for being. And that was Mia. She was everything Alexiana, and any woman in his circle of friends and colleagues, was not. She was simple yet beautiful, a no fuss, tell-it-like-it-is woman. He was done with rich prima donnas.
He got the job and the girl and there was just one piece of his life that needed to fall into place. The job had been step one in making that happen.
He walked into the condo, once again finding Alexiana dressed like she was going to a movie premiere.
“You’re home early again. What’s with all the days off and half days lately? How are you supposed to make any money if you’re never at work?”
“I got the job.”
“What job?”
“The modeling gig.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. I signed my contract today. We’ll be doing the photo shoots soon.”
She rolled her eyes. “What will you be wearing?”
“I don’t know. Probably some kind of G-string.”
“That is so disgusting. Seriously. Eww. I can’t be married to some low-class Chippendales wanna-be.”
Then don’t marry me. “Well, I’m doing it, so you’ll have to find a way to deal with it.”
“Uh-uh. I’m not gonna just deal with it. It’s degrading. Can you imagine what this will do to your reputation? To my reputation?”
He didn’t give two shits about their reputations. He’d spent far too many years of his life trying to live up to the Christensen name. It was time he lived life to his own specifications. “I don’t care.”
“I bet your father will care a whole lot. Your mother, too. Maybe I’ll just give her a call and see what she thinks about her son posing for scandalous photos.”
Damn it. She knew what buttons to push to make him crumble. She picked up her Swarovski-encrusted cell phone.
“Put that down.”
She glared at him, then made an exaggerated gesture of pointing her finger at the phone and pushing the send button. What a bitch.
“Hi, Ginny! How are you?”
“Give me the phone,” Oliver demanded.
But she just curled her upper lip. “I’m so sorry to hear you’re not feeling well today. Do you want me to come over and sit with you?”
Oliver stepped toward her, hand extended, but she backed away. “Now.”
“We can chitchat and catch up. I’ve got lots to tell you.”
He stepped to her again and as she tried to flee, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. The brush of her hip against him made his stomach churn. He only wanted Mia’s body on his. Shaking away thoughts of her, he concentrated on his current situation. “Give me the phone.”
“Yes, Ginny, Oliver’s here. He’s got big news for you.”
He ripped the phone from her hand. “Hi, Mom.”
She coughed once, then uttered a weak, “Hello, darling. What’s your big news?”
“Oh, I got a second job.”
Unable to lie to her, he gave a few vague details. He hung up after promising to visit sometime during the week.
“Well that was an interesting way of putting your new job.”
“Don’t you ever do that again. She can’t handle your drama right now.”
“This is so not my drama. But as your future wife, I have to do everything in my power to prevent your drama from becoming my drama.”
God, this woman was so self-centered. But there had to be some small part of her that was still the fun girl he’d played with as a kid, right? The girl who couldn’t wait to be a veterinarian, a sculptor, and professional roller skater. He took her by the hand, gently, and led her to the living room.
“Don’t you want a real husband?” he asked as they sat on the sofa. “A real marriage?”
“Of course. And that’s what we’ll have. Everyone will be so jealous of how perfect we are and how gorgeous our life will be.”
“There’s more to life than reputations. Don’t you want love? Real love?”
She looked to her hand, inspecting a chipped polish job. “I guess.”
“Can you honestly say you love me?”
“We have a baby on the way.” Oliver watched her check her other nails, then set her hand back in her lap with the other. Her gaze moved to the coffee table next to them. “We need to go over the guest list.”
“Look at me.” He forced her chin toward him, but she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Do you love me?”
“You got me pregnant. You asked me to marry you and I accepted. We have a responsibility to those commitments.” She reached for the folder. “Now, if we’re done talking about this, I really need you to review the guest list. The invitations are going out soon and I need to know if anyone is missing.”
Oliver’s entire life had been about responsibilities and commitment. Maybe it was time to stop being so damn respectable. Hell, he’d already cheated on his fiancée, repeatedly, and taken a job as a dildo model. It was safe to say his respectability had gone down the drain. So why was he having trouble walking away from his responsibility to Alexiana? He didn’t love her. Why couldn’t he just tell her he didn’t want to marry her?
He knew why. The minuscule chance in the back of his head that maybe she was telling the truth about the baby. If he opened the can of worms and he was wrong, he would cause so much stress for his mother for no reason. He had to find out for sure, before this went too much further.
MIA HELD her phone in her hand, ready to call Oliver. Cancel the date. She’d accepted it barely two minutes after orgasm, a fabulous one, but still, she wasn’t thinking clearly. He probably could have asked her to walk a tightrope across Niagara Falls and she’d have said yes. But no amount of inappropriate workplace sex would change the fact that she was his boss. The sex had to stop. The flirting had to stop. The X-rated dreams of more sex with Oliver had to stop. She wouldn’t be able to do her job if she were dating him. And if customers found out he was taken, canoodling with the owner of the shop, no less, what a mess that would be.
A mess would not save the shop. It was best to just end it, for good.
Just as she was about to call, her phone rang. It was her brother-in-law. “Hey, Nico, what’s up?
“Riley’s in labor. They say it shouldn’t take long. You comin’ to the hospital?”
She hadn’t spoken to Riley or anyone in her family since the disaster dinner. After that night she’d vowed to stay as far away from them as she could. But now, as her baby nephew was making his way into the world, she couldn’t follow through with it. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Mia ended the call and searched out Oliver’s number again, hitting send.
“I can’t wait to see you,” he purred into the phone. Obviously he already knew it was her. “I’m having a hard time concentrating at work thinking about you. But luckily I only have another half hour.”
“I need to cancel.”
“Mia, come on. Are we back to this employee-employer thing? It really isn’t a big deal.”
“It is, but I’ll save that conversation for later. My sister’s in labor, so I have to go to the hospital.”
“Okay. Call me later then.”
“I’ll try.”
Mia shoved her phone into her coat pocket and headed out the door. Part of her really did not want to face her family, but this day wasn’t about her and her issues with her father. This was about her sister and her new nephew-to-be.
When she got to Riley’s room, there weren’t supersanitized white walls or a standard-issue hospital bed. The place looked like a suite at some upscale hotel. “Wow. This is fancy.”
Her mom came over and hugged her. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“Amazing what a nice fat donation to the hospital can get you,” Riley
said, lying against her plush pillows, bottle of premium filtered water in her hand.
“After seeing that disgusting room she had to birth Gianna in,” their father said, “I made sure little Nico could come into the world in style.”
If your idea of style is gilded antique furniture and a marble statue of a pregnant woman. Reason number 586 why Mia felt so out of place with her family. Statues creeped her out.
Wait. Was that a cappuccino maker on the counter next to the baby scale? Reason number 587. What happened to the simple life they’d once shared?
She just shook her head. “So how are you?” she asked Riley.
“Good. Epidurals are God’s gift to women in labor.”
“I’m thinking you should probably thank science for that one, not God.”
“Well, God made the smart science people and gave them the brains to come up with stuff. But the doctor says I’m eight centimeters dilated and 70 percent effaced.”
Was that gibberish? Mia had no clue so she just nodded. “Good.”
“Yeah. It should be soon. You staying in the room for the birth?”
“Oh, no. There’s an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room with my name on it.”
“Why sit out there?” The Great Antonio Montanari asked. “I paid good money for a luxury suite so we could all be comfortable.”
“Well, my idea of comfort would be severely tested by having to watch a baby come out of someone’s body.”
“You make it sound like a dirty crime. And can’t you for once accept something I offer you?”
Here we go. “I would rather not sit in this room during Riley’s delivery.”
“What kind of daughter won’t support her family when they need her?”
He was going to do this now? “The kind who refuses to bow to a family who couldn’t care less about her wants or needs. Will you ever just let me run my life and career the way I want?”
“I was talking about supporting your sister while she experiences the miracle of life, but if you’re going to go there, we can do that.”
“Ma,” Riley called. “They’re fighting again. Do something.”
“No. I don’t want to do that,” Mia replied before her mother could cross the room.