Mad In Love: A Billionaire Unexpected Baby Office Romance

by Chloe Morgan

  “You don’t have much of it.”

  “Trust me, I know. But my team is busy right now working on color scheme options and font choices while I’m working on the tagline. Delegating is going to get us through this.”

  “A good leader knows when to delegate,” he said.

  “And that’s what I did yesterday before I left. We’re meeting just after lunch to throw our options on the table and start spitballing.”

  “Sounds messy.”

  “It can be, but it’ll produce the result you want.”

  “Then, by all means, laden it with spit,” he said.

  I drew in a deep breath and kept my inner screaming to myself.

  “Part of the reason why you’re so anxious, I think, is because that part of the creative process is born naturally. Inspiration, so to speak. You strike me as a man who enjoys controlling things, but you can’t control inspiration,” I said.

  “And here I thought I was the mentor,” Ethan said.

  “I think we can learn from each other.”

  “Well, I know that sometimes inspiration can hit me when I’m not cooped up in an office. Getting out of my everyday environment helps me. So, we’re going to lunch.”

  “What?”

  “Yep. It’s almost lunchtime. You’ve been staring out that window for a while now,” he said.

  I looked over at the clock on my wall. He was right. I’d been standing there a long time.

  “Gotcha,” Ethan said, smiling.

  I gathered my things and headed out of my office with him. I felt his body heat a little too close, his hand hovering over my lower back, guiding me without actually touching me. His command took my breath away. I figured he’d take me somewhere fancy, some upscale Manhattan restaurant, maybe in some town car driven by someone else. But instead, we began walking. We headed for the lobby, hit the pavement, and pounded it.

  Thank heavens I grabbed my coat.

  The weather was brisk. The city began to let go of fall and finally accept winter’s arrival. Ethan led me around the corner, and we headed for Central Park. And all the while, he made random comments that drew my eye toward the beauty of the place I had a view of from my office.

  “I like how the frost gathers more on the peaks of branches rather than the crooks.”

  “Look at that family of geese. I hope they’ve got somewhere to go to shelter from the cold.”

  “If that duck swims any farther into the pond, he’s going to hit something he can’t swim through.”

  “I’ve always enjoyed the way the shadows of the clouds play off the skyscrapers around us. Light and dark. Two opposites, forever fused within their nature. It’s comforting, almost.”

  I listened to him as he walked up to a hot dog cart. I never would have taken Ethan for an artist. A businessman, yes. Mainly, a delegator. Someone who wanted to be in this business but needed everyone around him to be creative. But the more we walked, the more he pointed out the beauty around us. How it inspired him. How it drew him in.

  He drew me in.

  “Two hot dogs, covered in everything except peppers,” Ethan said.

  “Everything?” I asked.

  “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it. And two Cokes.”

  “Grease and caffeine. Good choice,” I said, smirking.

  It was a long way from a gourmet lunch, but I was glad for it. I felt much more comfortable in the park than I ever would have in a sophisticated setting like some sort of steak restaurant. While the man slathered our hot dogs and piled them with so many things it made my head spin, my eyes fell beyond him. Over his shoulder. Around his body. I saw a mother and her child just a few yards away. The young boy pointed at a clapboard sign that had the drawing of a balloon animal on it. I watched as the mother shook her head, silent apologies falling from her lips. I squinted my eyes, read her lips.

  “I’m sorry, honey. It’s too cold for balloon man,” the mother said.

  I watched the boy’s face fall, tears falling down his cheeks. The mother’s face was riddled with guilt and sorrow as she scooped her son close. She rubbed his back. She attempted to soothe his aching heart, his hurt feelings. I felt tears crest my eyes at the scene. I watched it unfold in front of me, sheer domestication that brought a warmth to my heart.

  Then, it hit me.

  “Here’s your hot dog. You’ll have to eat it with a fork,” Ethan said.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  “What was that?”

  I whipped around to Ethan as I wiped at my tears.

  “Sarah, is everything okay?” he asked.

  “I have an idea for the tagline for the pitch. I have to go. I’m sorry,” I said.

  Ethan grinned. “I knew you could do it. But a hot dog isn’t going to kill you. Take the food. Because if you’re anything like me, you’ll work straight through lunch.”

  He thrust the hot dog and the drink into my hand. And while he was grabbing his, I scurried out of the park and made my way up the sidewalk, not even thinking about the fact that I’d saddled him with the bill. I raced back into Sharpe Ads headquarters, balancing my food as the taglines kept whipping through my mind.

  I got into my office and dropped the food into the corner, never once touching it as I sat down to work.

  Chapter 5

  Ethan

  Sarah’s team spread out the latest versions of the pitch in front of my eyes. I leaned back in my chair, surveying the conference room we all sat in. Well, I sat in it. They were all standing. My eyes flickered over the choices, the color schemes and the taglines. I grinned at them and at the inspiration that practically knocked Sarah over yesterday in the park.

  “These are good. Very good,” I said.

  The team nodded and smiled while I praised myself for hiring her—that secret weapon of Maelstrom’s who now worked for us. I glanced over at Sarah and found her in the corner, her arms crossed over her chest. A leader in the shadows. I liked that. Allowing her group to take credit when I knew damned good and well most of this was her doing. Well, at least half of it. There was no way Maelstrom would beat us this time. Not with what I was looking at.

  “I’ve never said this in my entire career, but any one of these will do well, in my eyes,” I said.

  “I’m partial to the rich blue with pastel yellow,” Sarah said.

  “That one has my favorite tagline,” I said.

  I glanced back at her and could have sworn I saw her blush.

  “All right. It’s after eight o’clock. It’s time for everyone to go home,” I said.

  “You heard the man. Let’s get these into my office, and all of you can go home,” Sarah said.

  I watched her while she worked. As she hugged the necks of her team members and talked them through the schedule for next week. I heard her talk to one of her teammates about sending proofs to printing so that everything would be ready for Monday morning. I stood back, watching her encourage her team, congratulating them on a job well done, pumping them up and stroking their egos just enough to give them pep in their step. Soon, everyone was gone, and Sarah turned around to face me.

  Just the two of us in that empty conference room.

  “You’re a natural,” I said.

  “Got a lot of education behind that ‘natural,’ too,” she said.

  “I wasn’t downing your education. But there is a certain spark in this kind of work that can’t be taught. You have it,” I said.

  “Well, thank you.”

  I paused. “You had to defend yourself a lot at Maelstrom, didn’t you?”

  She sighed. “More or less. It was mostly getting my boss to stop staring at my bosom, however.”

  The idea of Miller Kells eyeing her down like that rose a protective and jealous instinct within my gut.

  “Well, you won’t be getting any of that here. Are you heading home?” I asked.

  Sarah shook her head. “I want to go over everything again and pick the one we’re going to use for Monday morning before I leave.”


  “Making sure everything is triple-checked.”

  “You could say that. I don’t want any mistakes somehow sneaking through,” she said.

  “Good. I don’t, either.”

  “Well, I’ll see you Monday for the pitch. Marla is going to get this to printing once I give her the go-ahead for which one we’re using. Should be on my desk Sunday evening, so I’ll probably pop in and look them over. Just to make sure things are okay.”

  “Don’t act like you’re bidding me good night. I don’t leave until my employees are gone. I’m always the first and the last out of this building. So, if you need any help, I’m here,” I said.

  Sarah shrugged. “Two sets of eyes are always better than one. Care to head to my office?”

  I walked down with her, and we took the stairs. I was painfully aware of how her hips swayed. How her legs flexed in her heels. How her curves bounced around underneath her clothes while she walked. And when we got to her office and she closed the door, I was aware of how alone we were. Her body heat radiated against me as we hunched over her desk. I joined her in checking for typos and color bleeds, checking the composition of the logo and seeing how the color schemes sat with my eyes. But working in close quarters with Sarah made me hyperaware of her, of how lowly her blouse dipped when she leaned over. I noticed how her tongue curled over her upper lip when she fell deep into thought. I noticed how she bit her lower lip whenever she grew frustrated.

  It was agony for my body, working alongside her like that.

  Every time I moved around her, I caught her scent. Her perfume or body spray, or whatever the hell it was. Faintly sweet and floral. Not enough to knock someone over, but definitely enough to draw them in. It was coming from that soft little crook in the curve of her long, straight neck coated in creamy skin and peppered with freckles I wanted to trace with my tongue.

  Fucking hell, I could taste her, she was so sweet.

  I planted my hands into her desk, finding myself hard in my pants. I stopped moving around her. Stopped breathing her in. But then my eyes were drawn to her. My body stopped stalking her, but my eyes didn’t pull away from her. I watched her while she worked. I watched her strawberry-blonde curls fall into her face. I watched her vein throb at her neck as she cocked her head. I watched her fingertips curl into the desk, whitening with their strain as she hovered over those proofs.

  And those fucking tits of her swayed freely in the cups of her pink bra I saw down her damn shirt.

  The woman needed new shirts.

  “I’m still drawn to the rich blue and pastel yellow, despite my moral code of never using colors that stereotype products,” Sarah said.

  My eyes whipped up to hers, and I watched her look up at me. Those bright, beautiful, doe-eyed baby blues. My gaze held hers. I leaned forward a little, looming over the desk. And for a moment I saw that same heat I felt mirrored in her eyes. Her pupils flexed. She let out a short, sharp breath. Her neck flushed a beautiful shade of red I wanted to see painting her entire body as I lapped at her wet slit. Holy hell, I felt the animal inside me yanking at its chain. Slamming against its cage. Growling to be set free.

  And when her eyes fell to my lips, that was all it took.

  I straightened up, ignoring the small voice in my head telling me it wasn’t smart to mix business and pleasure. I buried that voice underneath my carnal desire to have her. To fist those luscious curls in my hair and tear that bullshit top off her torso. I moved slowly around the desk. I traced my fingertips along the blond mahogany I’d had her desk made out of—a reflection of her milky skin as it called to me. My eyes never left hers. I watched her swallow as her pulse quickened. That beautiful flush worked up her cheeks, coating her skin in a foreshadowing of what was to come.

  “Don’t worry. It’s perfect,” I said.

  Sarah blinked. Like she had ripped herself from a trance.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “It’s perfect,” I said.

  I placed my finger onto the composition she enjoyed the most before pushing it off to the side.

  “The copy. The composition. The tagline. It’s all perfect,” I said.

  “No typos?” she asked.

  “No typos,” I said.

  “No changes in color?”

  I stalked her against her desk. I watched her press the heels of her hands into the edge of it. I stood in front of her, gazing down at her, licking my lips and preparing myself for the enjoyment that was about to come. She looked up at me with those big doe eyes, drawing me in with every blink. Every part of her skin that flushed for me gave her away and tugged at the animal inside.

  I felt the cage unlatch.

  I felt the chain bust free.

  I leaned forward, settling my hands beside hers as our bodies pressed together.

  “Unless you count the color of your cheeks,” I murmured.

  She let out the breath she was holding, and I took my chance. I pressed my lips against hers, willing the beast to stay at bay. I needed that sign. That signal. That break from her. And when her body paused, I held my ground.

  Come on, Sarah. I saw it.

  She moaned against my lips, and the animal lunged forward. My hands fisted her hips as hers flew into my hair. My tongue pushed through her lips, tasting her sweetness as her legs spread for me. I pressed my knee between her thighs, feeling her heat beating down onto my edges. She ground down into my leg. Her body quickly spiraled as I raked my teeth over her bottom lip. Her hands twisted in my hair as I yanked at her blouse, and together we stripped one another down.

  Until there was nothing keeping us apart except our will to tease.

  Chapter 6

  Sarah

  His skin was electric. His kiss, full of fire. Ethan fisted my hair and turned me around, bending me over my desk—my office desk. In my place of work.

  I felt his hand run over the globe of my ass.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  He clapped his hand against my skin, and my legs spread farther for him.

  “You want this, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Sweet heaven, yes,” I whispered.

  Like a prayer. Like a chant.

  Like my life depended on it.

  His touch filled me with a need I’d never experienced before. He hovered over me, his dick seated between my ass cheeks. I felt his precum painting my skin as his lips pressed into my spine. He kissed up every divot, making me shiver with every connection. I bucked back into him, needing his touch. Needing to be filled like some desperate, lonely animal.

  His lips graced the shell of my ear as his hips pulled back.

  “Open wide,” he whispered.

  His thickness slammed its way into my body, and I cried out. He wrapped my hair around his hand, drawing my face up as moans poured from my lips. He pounded into me. His hips connected with my ass cheeks as they jiggled for him. I pressed against my desk, bucking back into him as his thick shaft throbbed against my walls.

  I felt my arousal dripping down my thighs.

  “Ethan. Yes. Oh, my gosh. Shit.”

  “Such a dirty mouth on such a luscious woman. I wonder what else you’ve got in there for me.”

  He reached around and pressed his thumb into my clit, causing my knees to buckle.

  “Fuck!” I exclaimed.

  He growled. “There it is.”

  He released my hair and planted his palm onto the top of my desk. I ground myself against his thumb and bucked back into his massive dick. I didn’t know which way to go. Where to turn. How to gain my strength back. His chest pressed me into my desk, pinning me there as his lips ravaged me. He nibbled my shoulder. Kissed my neck. Licked at my earlobe and chuckled deeply against my neck. My tits swayed against the top of my desk. I stood onto my tiptoes, my wet walls swallowing more of his offering down.

  “I feel you dripping,” Ethan growled.

  All the way down his balls.

  I swiveled my hips. His thumb swirled around my clit
. My back arched and my jaw unhinged as unearthly groans filled my office space. The proofs were knocked to the ground. My lamp on the edge of my desk fell off. The desk itself began to move as his thrusts grew harder. Faster. More needy.

  “Milk me, Sarah. Grab on to me.”

  “Yes, Ethan. I can’t—I’m come—it’s—Ethan!”

  “Say it again.”

  “Ethan, please,” I begged.

  “Say my name again, Sarah.”

  “Yes, Ethan!”

  My body spiraled. The room around me spun. My legs gave way, and he held me in his grasp, kissing my back as he trembled against me. His muscles pulled taut. He grunted against my back. I whimpered into the desk as my insides jumped with the last of my pleasure, feeling his release paint my walls. Thread after thread, coating me. Marking me. Filling me with him. I hung there in his grasp, panting for air as his nose nuzzled the nape of my neck.

  “The flush of your skin is a perfect color change,” Ethan whispered.

  My back settled against the door of my apartment. I dropped my things, then slid to my ass and stayed there. I lifted up my hands, finding them still shaking from my encounter with him.

  Ethan.

  My boss.

  Holy hell, I fucked my boss in my office.

  I leaned my head against the door and sighed. My legs still felt weak. My thighs still ached for more. I knew what we had done was wrong. It crossed so many professional boundaries it was sickening. But damn. That man was sexy. Those chiseled muscles. Those strong thighs. Those forearm veins that ricocheted up to his biceps. I could have feasted on him all night. I would have let him take me in any position he wanted for as long as he wanted.

  I’d never had sex like that. Never come that hard with any man in my entire life.

  I’d had my share of boyfriends, sure. But I’d never let anything get in the way of my career. None of them were worth that much. And none of them had been like Ethan.

  He’s not your boyfriend.

  I cursed the voice in my head. I knew that. He was my boss. And it wasn’t likely he’d ever take on that role in my life because he was my boss. Hell, it wasn’t likely we’d have another encounter like that again. I pushed aside the idea of Ethan being my boyfriend. Of a man like him—with his command and his artistic side and his piercing eyes—ever wanting a woman like myself. Men like him wanted their women to look up to them. To stroke their egos as well as their dick. But I wasn’t that kind of woman. I held my own. Called men out on their bullshit. Stood alongside them instead of bowing down at their feet.