“So your talents are scanning documents with surgical precision and licking envelopes?” I asked.
Emma rolled her eyes. On stage, someone approached the microphone, and for a moment we were forced to listen as the MC announced to the room that the food was on its way out.
Once the servers started circulating with the first course, Emma revealed a little more.
“I used to really like drawing,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to get back into it.”
“What’s stopping you?”
She took another drink of her wine, and I admired how elegant her hand looked clutching the glass. “I haven’t had the time, you know? And I used to have all these expensive pencils and paper and everything, which I know of course that I don’t need to draw, but I miss using them. I guess it’s a little daunting for me to get started again from nothing, so I just haven’t.”
A server came by and slid a salad down in front of each of us. Emma picked up her fork and started stabbing at it, but I was still too engrossed in this new detail.
“Why did you stop?”
Emma stabbed a little harder at her salad, spearing several pieces of cucumber and tomato in one go. “My ex used to tell me I didn’t have enough talent. It got to the point where every time I picked up a pencil I’d hear him in my head and get all embarrassed. It was stupid of me to stop.” She shoved the forkful in her mouth and started crunching through it with a vengeance. “It was stupid of me to stay with him so long, now that I think about it. Lance throwing me out was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
My blood boiled. I couldn’t believe somebody would treat Emma like that. It wouldn’t matter if she was the worst artist in the world, Lance had no right to discourage her like that.
“That guy is a dick,” I told her. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that, but I’m glad you’re done with him now.”
She smiled, “Me too.” A second later, she added, “And hey, I’m moving into my own place at the end of the month. It’s just a little shoebox, but it’s all mine. I’m moving forward, and that’s all that matters to me now.”
She munched away happily from then on, talking about everything from the curiosities she’d found in Willow’s fridge over the past few weeks, to how much she adored the latest season of Game of Thrones. It was so easy to talk to her, especially now that she wasn’t too nervous to speak freely. Hadn’t I said that once she opened up a little, she’d be great? I was right.
There were speeches after dinner. Lots of them. I was just about to start messing with Emma under the table to amuse myself when the last speaker finished to a round of relieved applause. The MC came back to announce that the dance floor would be opening soon, and I grinned wolfishly at Emma.
She laughed. “Oh no, I don’t think we can do the same kind of dancing that we did last weekend.”
“Who says?”
“I say.” She put her nose in the air. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
I chuckled and grabbed Emma’s hand anyway, pulling her upright. “We’re going to the dance floor. If you won’t dance with me the fun way, I suppose I’ll just have to take you the old-fashioned way.”
I let the innuendo settle as I led her out to where couples had begun milling at the front of the room. The band introduced themselves then started into an old rock classic. The middle-aged couples surrounding the floor went wild. I went to dive in, but something caught my attention at the other side of the room. Not something.
Someone.
“Shit,” I winced.
“What is it?” Emma asked, eyes wide with concern.
“Constance Klein is over there,” I told her, angling our bodies away so she wouldn’t see us. “From what I understand, she didn’t take me ditching her with as much grace as I would have hoped.
Emma’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Oh no! What do we do?” Then, a flash of mischief in her eyes. She grabbed my hand. “Come with me.”
I was surprised by her sudden handling of the situation and wanted to see what she had in mind. She zigzagged through the room, stopping at a pair of French doors at the far end and testing the handle. It wasn’t locked.
“Awesome,” she said triumphantly, opening the door just wide enough for us to slip through.
The door led to a balcony that overlooked a wide boulevard and the glass skyscrapers across from us. It was still a little chilly this early in the season, and I shrugged out of my jacket and placed it around Emma’s shoulders.
“Thanks,” she murmured, tugging it close around her shoulders.
I was surprised more people weren’t out on the balcony, but happy about it all the same. I’d been wanting to get Emma alone all night.
Emma turned and walked to the railing, resting her hands on the smooth stone. I walked behind her, staggering my palms on either side of hers so that my chest was pressed tight against her back. She fell into me almost instinctively, and I leaned down to press my nose against her hair. She smelled fresh and earthy, like a forest after a cleansing rainfall, but sweeter. I trailed lower, moving aside her hair to give me access to her throat. Emma let out a tiny gasp as my lips brushed over her skin, raising gooseflesh in their wake.
“Max...” she whispered.
“Yes?”
She took a breath. “Is this a bad idea?”
My deep laugh rumbled through both of us. “If it was, would you ask me to stop?” I circled her waist, splaying my palms against her stomach and tugging her back hard.
She shivered, and I kissed the curve of her neck, nibbling on her sweet skin.
Emma sucked in a ragged breath. “No.”
“Hmm?”
“No, I wouldn’t ask you to stop,” she said. “I don’t think I could.”
“Good,” I whispered. “I don’t think I could either.”
I couldn’t wait any longer. I turned Emma in my arms and pressed her back against the railing, as if I needed to hold her in place so she wouldn’t escape. Her hands gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me closer still.
I leaned in, and finally got my first taste of those decadent lips. She tasted like wine and sweetness, the delicate mingling of her innocent personality and her womanly desires. I parted her lips and probed with my tongue, seeking entrance. She opened up for me like a flower, and from that moment I knew she was mine.
Our lips and tongues dance fervently, passionately. I sucked on her bottom lip and made her moan, which was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard in my life. She was putty in my hands and I couldn’t wait to mold her. I couldn’t wait to bring her such earth-shattering pleasure that she’d never forget tonight or me, or the way I held her like she was everything.
She nipped at my bottom lip, and it surprised me so much that a deep growl vibrated through my chest. My cock was stiff and ready in my pants. I could fuck her out here, right in the open. I bet nobody would know, and it would be hot as hell. Too bad I wanted to take my time with her for the first time. She was uncharted wilderness that I was eager to explore, and this balcony wasn’t the right venue to do so. It was, however, perfect for this kiss, this release of our desires. She wasn’t holding back anymore and neither was I, and I wanted her to know that.
I wanted her to taste my hunger, a hunger only she could taste.
It was a good thing I hadn’t decided to give in to my urges, however, because at that moment the French door creaked open and we were no longer alone.
Chapter 14
Emma
My head was spinning. Never before had a kiss made me so dizzy, or sapped so much of my mental ability. I clung onto Max not just because I wanted to, but because I thought I might fall into oblivion, my own personal rabbit hole of sexual need, if I didn’t.
I barely registered that other people had emerged onto the balcony, but it suddenly explained why Max had stopped kissing me. He was looking behind him at who’d interrupted us, but he turned to me a second later with a devious smile.
“Want to get
out of here?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.
I nodded weakly, still lacking the capacity for words.
Max backed away, offering his hand. I took it gratefully and let him lead me back inside and to our table, where I’d left my clutch. Willow had texted me about a million times so far, but I hadn’t answered any of them and I got the impression I wasn’t going to get the chance anytime soon.
I still couldn’t believe Max had kissed me. Well, I could since he’d been less than furtive about his intentions all evening, but still. Max kissed me.
Max Westfield, billionaire CEO and charming playboy, kissed me, Emma Valentine, recent singleton, but at least no longer homeless.
And God, was it ever good! He kissed like he’d been born to, like it was his God-given mission to kiss the living daylights out of every girl he met until their lips were numb. It was so surreal that I spent the entire walk to the front exit processing it. When I found myself standing in front of our limo once again, the reality of the situation hit me hard.
I didn’t so much slide into the limo as I did float into it, followed closely by Max, who snuggled right up to me on the seat and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I was still wearing his jacket, and I hoped I never had to take it off. It was warm, it smelled like him, and I felt special wearing it. I wasn’t his assistant anymore. I mean, I still was, but in this moment in particular I was his date. Full stop. Not his date who also happened to be his assistant—just his date.
And damn, did it feel good.
The car began to move, and Max looked down at me with a sexy smile. “You’re an unexpectedly good kisser,” he said.
“Unexpectedly?” I asked, my voice laden with indignation.
He laughed. “I just mean that you seem so innocent. Then you kiss like you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“I do, thank you very much,” I said, sticking my nose in the air. I was secretly delighted by his compliment, but there was no way in hell I was going to show it.
“I hope there’s still room for me to teach you a few things.” Max’s breath tickled my ear. He leaned in even further, nibbling on my earlobe. I let out a quiet moan.
“I’m sure we can perform an exchange of knowledge,” I said. “That sounds... good.” I moaned again as he blew cool air onto the spot he’d kissed. “So good.”
Max angled my face toward him and kissed me, hard and deep. Once again I was swept along by the moment, by the feel of his lips roughly dominating my own. His stubble scraped my cheek, tickling me, adding to the flurry of sensations I was experiencing.
His hand found the hem of my skirt and hiked it up, exposing my legs to the tops of my thighs. My breath caught when his fingers trailed along the exposed skin, taunting me. Teasing me.
“I don’t think I can wait until we’re back at my place,” he said. “I’ve waited long enough.”
I nodded feverishly. “Yes. Please.”
I didn’t know what I was begging for but I knew that I needed it. Max dove into my neck, kissing along the crook of my throat as his hand slid under my dress, inching toward my throbbing sex. I already knew that my panties were soaked, and when he brushed the pads of his fingers across them and made that discovery for himself, he growled.
“Fuck Emma, you’re so sexy.”
I bit my lip to keep from moaning and arched my hips up reflexively, urging him to take his exploration deeper.
Those talented fingers dipped under the top of my panties, sliding along my wet seam before plunging between my folds. I cried out at the unexpected wave of pleasure that hit me, rolling my hips again, this time easing his fingers further inside of me. His thumb stroked my clit, and his mouth trailed hot kisses along my jaw that left me gasping for air.
“Your pussy feels so good on my fingers.” He captured my bottom lip and bit down hard enough to send a jolt of delicious pain through me. “I can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.”
Lance had never talked dirty to me in bed before. I hadn’t thought I liked it, but somehow when it came from Max it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know what to say back, but I couldn’t speak anyway. All I could do was moan.
“Does that feel good baby?” Max asked, even though he knew it felt amazing.
“Yes,” I sighed. “God yes.”
Max rewarded me by sinking another digit into my heat, stretching me further. I couldn’t help myself from moving against his hand. I was lost in a spiral of pleasure, and the only way out was up. And hell, I was on my way up.
Max’s mouth covered mine again. He kissed me slowly, like he was sucking nectar from my lips. I opened up to him and buried my hands in his hair, holding him tight to my face and refusing to let go.
I was overcome with sensations. The world around me narrowed down to Max’s mouth on mine, his fingers stroking me, his other arm anchoring me against him like I might try to go and he might try to stop me. It was so hot, so unlike anything I’d ever experienced, that I could already tell I was going to climax just from his fingers.
I had to break the kiss just to breathe, as the current of feeling swelled and I went under. I screwed my eyes shut, mouth falling open in a silent scream as the first wave of pure pleasure hit me like a semi. I curled forward around Max, resting my head against his shoulder as the waves kept coming, hard and fast. It was so good that I wanted to cry.
Max slowly retracted his hand while I recovered, pulling my dress back down and hoisting my legs up and onto his lap. I looked up to question what he was doing, but he was already pulling me over to cradle me in his arms. I fell back against his shoulder, overwhelmed by both pleasure and the sweetness of his gesture. He kissed me lightly on the lips, and I could feel his smile.
“I hope you’re not too worn out for more,” he murmured.
I laughed. “Not even close.”
“Good, because I’m not even slightly finished with you.”
“I can tell,” I said, wiggling my butt against his rock hard bulge. Christ, he felt huge. Was there anything Max Westfield didn’t have going for him?
He groaned, a deep husky sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Careful, baby. I don’t want the first time I fuck you to be in the back of a limo, but you’re testing my restraint.”
I liked that I was testing his restraint. I liked that I had that kind of power over him. He was the most powerful man I knew, and yet I was reducing him to his baser nature using just my body. I’d never felt so powerful and alive. And I’d never been so turned on.
“How much further is it to your place?” I asked.
“Good question.” He leaned over to the window and looked out, squinting against the tinted glass. Then he swore. “I forgot to tell the driver we weren’t going back to yours first.”
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t mind changing out of this dress.”
“Absolutely not.” He gave me a hard look. “I will personally be taking that dress off of you or it won’t be coming off at all.”
My heart picked up and I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping my lips. “Yes, sir.”
“If you’d like to grab anything else though, I will permit it.”
“How kind of you.”
“I aim to please.”
I sighed happily. “You certainly do.”
When we rolled up in front of Willow’s apartment building a couple minutes later, though, my good mood quickly evaporated.
“No,” I said. “No, no, no!”
“What?” Max followed my gaze to the window.
I couldn’t see for sure who it was standing just outside the apartment complex, but I would recognize that tall lanky frame from anywhere.
“It’s my ex-boyfriend.” I disentangled myself from Max’s lap. “The famous Lance.”
Chapter 15
Max
Emma practically leapt out of the car, not even waiting for the driver to come open the door. I cursed and followed her, wishing I’d just remembered to tell him
to go straight back to my place. I was an idiot. Now look what had happened.
I followed after Emma, stopping just outside the limo and giving the guy she was storming toward an incredulous look. That was Lance?
He was tall, probably nearly as tall as me, but barely half as wide. Either he’d never filled out after high school or was living proof that they still used the rack as a torture device. I found myself wishing for a strong breeze to take him out of the equation so I could get back to the way things were before his sudden and decidedly unwelcome arrival.
I could see what he might have to offer besides being able to serve as a decent scarecrow stand in, as he wasn’t a bad looking guy. His dark hair was cut stylishly, framing his male-model cheekbones and well-defined jaw. I still thought Emma was way out of his league, but I’d been picturing him as a literal troll this whole time, so it was a step up from that.
“What the fuck is this?” Lance yelled at the approaching redhead. He pointed to me, to the limo, then to the dress she wore. “Have you started escorting now, huh?”
Then again, maybe he was a literal troll.
“Hey!” I yelled, already striding toward him. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”
Emma spun on her heel and put a palm up to stop me. “I’ve got this Max. Please.” She turned back to Lance, who she now stood a few feet across from, and leveled an accusatory finger at him. “As for you, how dare you talk to me like that!”
“I call it like I see it, toots,” he sneered. “It’s not my fault I came over here to talk, only to have you show up in a limo like some sort of kept prostitute.”
“I said don’t talk to me like that!” Emma snapped. “You broke up with me, remember? Did you think I was going to sit around and wait for you to change your mind?”
I liked Emma standing up for herself. Lance, on the other hand, did not. I could tell by his expression that he’d expected her to take whatever punishment he meted out. It was clearly how their relationship had worked before. I couldn’t imagine him being any less of a dick than he was being now, and wondered why Emma hadn’t been the one to make the break. Either way, I was happy that she was finished with him.
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