Quantum Boxed Set: The Complete Series

by Force, Marie

  I take a shower, shave and dress in one of the Saville Row suits that Flynn and Hayden like to tease me about. I make two trips a year to London to get the best of the best. So I like a good suit, and I prefer to look like a professional at work, even if my colleagues wear jeans and T-shirts most of the time. Whatever. To each his own. Today’s suit is gray with subtle pinstripes that I pair with a white shirt and a purple-and-gray-checked tie. I step into black Ferragamo loafers and grab my phone off the charger, relieved that the pants don’t hurt to wear.

  That’s progress.

  I bring the coffee and scone I bought for Leah and drink my own coffee on the way to the office. In the parking lot, I notice her car is already there, and my heart gives a happy little lurch at knowing I’m going to see her again. Soon.

  This is bad. I know it’s bad, but God, it feels so damned good. She’s so hot and willing, not to mention honest. She’s so fucking honest and open and doesn’t allow me to get away with anything. In many ways, she seems so much older than her twenty-four years, probably because of everything she went through as a kid.

  I can’t stop thinking about the things she told me last night, how matter-of-fact she was about things that must’ve cut her deeply at the time. Her parents had adopted her but never got over wanting a biological child, and then her mother died suddenly in a tragic fall that had to have rocked her. She hasn’t had it easy, that’s for sure.

  Hell, I didn’t either, but my situation was more of the poor-little-rich-boy-whose-parents-were-too-busy-to-bother-with-him variety. They both worked in upper management for one of the big studios, and I’d go days without actually seeing them, which worked out well during the teenage years when I was allowed to run wild with friends like Flynn and Hayden. My mother’s mother was the only one who ever gave a fuck about me, or so it seemed to me. I rarely see my parents these days, which is fine with all of us.

  Like Leah, I’m an only child, but I go all the way back to elementary school with Flynn and Hayden. I think of them as the brothers I never had. I’ve been keeping their secrets as long as they’ve been keeping mine. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of them, which is why they hired me right out of law school and allowed me to learn the entertainment business on their dime. We’re brothers in every way except blood. Later, we added Jasper and Kristian to our posse, and Marlowe has been one of us for so long I don’t remember a time when she wasn’t. Sebastian, one of Hayden’s oldest childhood friends, is also part of the Quantum family and is the manager of our LA club.

  We’re family to each other, which works out well. Other than Flynn, most of us come from rather fucked-up families. The Godfreys are definitely the exception to the Hollywood rule, and most of us think of Max and Stella as the parents we wish we’d had, and they love us all like their own. Thank goodness I had them when I was a kid. Sometimes I think Max Godfrey is the only reason I didn’t end up in prison rather than law school. I never wanted to disappoint him, which is weird, I know. He was my friend’s father, but a larger-than-life presence in all our lives, and he set the gold standard that made us into the men we are today. I’m sure Flynn and Hayden would say the same, and Kristian, too, who credits Max for giving a street urchin a chance at a better life. And look at him now, the top producer in Hollywood.

  I place my hand on the palm scanner for the elevator to the offices upstairs. The elevator on the far right would take me downstairs to the club. Work first, play later. I try to picture Leah at the club, bound to a St. Andrew’s cross while I tease and torment her. Would she like that? Or would she prefer a private room where we could indulge in a wide variety of pleasures?

  I can’t think about that here or I’ll arrive in the office with a boner. I force my thoughts toward the work that’s waiting for me—the endless contracts that I can lose myself in for hours at a time.

  The doors open, and the first person I see is Hayden.

  “Hey,” he says. “You’re back. How’s Woody Woodpecker doing?”

  Behind the reception desk, Aileen tries to mask her snort of laughter.

  “Haha. He’s fine.”

  “You know that for sure?” Hayden asks, cringing. He’s wearing jeans so faded, they’re almost white, and an untucked light-blue dress shirt that badly needs an iron.

  “All systems have been fully tested and found operational.”

  “Thank God for small favors, huh?”

  I flash a cocky grin. “Nothing small about it.”

  “Jesus, I walked right into that swinging door.”

  I crack up at the face he makes. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a wedding?”

  “We’re flying up to Napa later today. Addie needed to come in to do a few last-minute things for Flynn, and then she’s all mine for the next three weeks.”

  “I’m extremely envious of the trip you have planned.” They rented a fully staffed yacht and will be setting sail in the Adriatic.

  “I can’t wait. It’s the most time I’ve taken off in years.”

  I reach out to shake his hand. “Enjoy every minute. You certainly deserve all the happiness in the world.”

  “Thank you,” he says gruffly, well aware that I know firsthand just how much he deserves it. The poor guy had a hideous family that made mine look like the Brady Bunch. “I’ll see you up there?”

  “With bells on.” I’m one of his groomsmen, along with Flynn, who is the best man, as well as Jasper, Kristian and Sebastian. “It’s going to be a great weekend.”

  “Best weekend ever,” he says as he gets into the elevator. “See you soon.”

  “Morning,” I say to Aileen.

  “Morning. How’re you feeling?” Despite laughing at Hayden’s stupid comment, her expression is full of empathy and concern, which is a vast improvement over Hayden’s predictable jokes.

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it.” She hands me some mail. “I put yesterday’s mail on your desk.”

  “Thank you.”

  I run into Flynn in the hallway. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a music festival T-shirt that was old fifteen years ago. See what I mean about the dress code in our office? The tone at the top—the top being our founding partners Flynn and Hayden—isn’t good, so I do what I can to elevate the place.

  Flynn takes an obvious look at my package. “How’s Peter Pecker?”

  “Did you and Hayden rehearse these questions before I got here?”

  “No,” Flynn says, seeming genuinely surprised by the question. “Why? What’d he say?”

  “He asked how Woody Woodpecker was doing.”

  Flynn’s laughter rings through the hallway. “That’s a good one.”

  “Have your laughs and just hope one of those little bastards you call nephews doesn’t one day unman you.”

  He winces and covers his package with both hands. “Please, God, don’t let that happen.”

  “It’s not the most fun I ever had.”

  “Annie and Hugh feel awful about it.”

  “I know. She sent me a huge basket of treats along with an apology from the boys. It was nice of her.”

  “Least she could do after her animals nearly neutered you.”

  “It was nowhere close to neutering, so you can quit that rumor before you start it.”

  “And you’re sure everything down there is… you know… okay?”

  “It’s all good,” I say, laughing at the horrified expression on his world-famous face.

  “Well, that’s a fucking relief, huh?”

  “You have no idea. I’d better get to it. I’m sure there’s a ton waiting for me today.”

  “Good to have you back. Are you flying up to Napa with us Thursday?”

  “Yep.”

  “Gonna be a blast. I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.” I continue on to my office, but seeing no one else in the hallway, I knock on Leah’s door on the way by. Through the glass window on the side of her door
, I see her wave me in. She’s on the phone, so I deposit the now-cold coffee and the bag containing the scone on her desk, and she smiles her thanks.

  “Marlowe won’t want to do that,” she says into the phone. “She doesn’t make statements on behalf of causes she’s not affiliated with. No, I’m not willing to ask her to make an exception.” She rolls her eyes at me. “I wouldn’t recommend that. She’s apt to pull out of the event if she suspects you’re going to blindside her. And as her assistant, I feel it’s necessary for me to warn her of the possibility. I’m sure you understand that my job is to protect her from any embarrassment.”

  I’m impressed and… Fuck, I’m aroused by the authoritative way she speaks and how she goes to bat for Marlowe. She’s truly become one of us in the months she’s worked here.

  “You do that,” she says. “And let me know what they say.” She ends the call by slamming the receiver down on her desk phone. “What a douche.”

  “Who was that?”

  “The organizer of a benefit Marlowe is supposed to headline at the end of next month, wanting to know if she’d be willing to make a statement in advance about some other cause he’s involved in that has nothing to do with the benefit. He’s trying to get everything he can out of her, and that’s not happening.”

  “Good for you for having her back.”

  “Um, well, that’s kinda my job.”

  “You just did it really well.”

  “Thanks,” she says, smiling.

  Is it my imagination or is she, who stares at me every chance she gets, having trouble looking at me today? “Leah.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Look at me.”

  She flips her gaze up to meet mine, and what I see in hers triggers something basic and almost feral in me. She’s afraid. Fucking hell. What’s that about? The Leah I know is freaking fearless.

  Regardless of the scandal it’s apt to cause, I close the door so we won’t be overheard. “What’s wrong?”

  “What? Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

  “Don’t lie to me, Leah. I can tell just by looking at you that something isn’t right.”

  “Just because you fucked me doesn’t mean you know me.”

  “Oh that mouth… That fresh, fresh mouth. It’s going to get you in so much trouble one of these days.” If we were anywhere else, I’d take her over my knee and show her what happens when a sub mouths off to her Dom.

  She shrugs, as if she couldn’t care less if she’s in trouble. “Thanks for the coffee. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I actually did it at home, but you were gone when I got back from the gym.”

  “Oh.” She looks inside the bag and breaks off a piece of the scone, popping it into her mouth. Her lips are a little puffy and swollen from last night. Knowing I’m responsible for that sends another tingle of lust down my spine. “I didn’t know where you were.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “I had to get to work.”

  “At six in the morning?”

  “I was awake, I didn’t know where you were, so I left. Why? Are you pissed or something?”

  “I didn’t know where you were or why you left.”

  “Well, now you do.”

  “I go to the gym every morning at five.”

  “That’s insane.”

  I move closer to her. “Maybe so, but that’s been my routine for years.”

  She spins her chair so she’s facing me, but the wary, guarded expression remains. “I suppose that would explain the muscles.”

  I lean over, put my hands on the armrests and get very close to her face. “Were you running away by any chance?”

  “No,” she says without blinking. “I wasn’t. Were you?”

  The question infuriates me. I just said I go to the gym every day at five, but I can’t deny the question strikes a little close to home, making me uncomfortable from the realization that maybe I was running away, not that I’d admit that to her. “No, I wasn’t. Last night was kind of intense.”

  She nods. “Just a little.”

  “Was it too much?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never want you to be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.” She diverts her gaze. “Not physically anyway.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are other ways to be afraid of someone besides physically.”

  “Like how?”

  “I… We…” She glances around me at the door. “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”

  Goddamn it. She’s absolutely right, and I’m the one who should’ve said so, but there’s no way I can go on with my day without knowing what she means. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

  She takes a deep breath and releases it, sounding resigned to the fact that I’m not going to let this go. “I made a rather huge confession to you last night, and even if you don’t believe it’s true, it is, and now that puts me in a rather tenuous position in this situation. I never should’ve told you—”

  I kiss her. I kiss her hard. I don’t even care that anyone could see us if they walk by her office and look into the windows that surround her door. I slide my hands under her ass and lift her right out of the chair.

  She lets out a squawk of protest but doesn’t break the kiss, which quickly becomes a full-body affair when she wraps her arms around my neck and opens her mouth to my plunging tongue.

  We really shouldn’t be doing this here, but try and stop me from gorging on her sweet, sassy sexiness. I’m becoming addicted, and that scares the living fuck out of me and has me withdrawing from the kiss, slowly but deliberately. “Tell me why you’re afraid.” I kiss her neck and breathe in the fresh, clean scent of her. There’s not a lotion or potion out there that could capture the essence that is so uniquely her.

  “You could crush me,” she says in a small voice that’s so out of character for her that I lift my head and look at that expressive face that can hide nothing from me—or anyone. If she thinks it or feels it, she broadcasts it in one way or the other.

  “I won’t. I wouldn’t…”

  “But you could, and that scares me.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I seem to be getting into whatever this is as deeply as you are.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  Again, her honesty staggers me. She cares that much? Jesus…

  “Put me down, Emmett. I’m supposed to be working, and so are you.”

  Because she’s absolutely right, I return her to the desk chair. But I don’t want to. I want to carry her out of there, take her home and spend the entire day inside her.

  Utter madness.

  She runs her fingers through her hair, attempting to straighten the mess I’ve made of it. “You’re doing that fierce scowling thing again, like you want to rip the limbs off my body.”

  “That’s not what I want to do to your body.”

  “I thought you said this could only be one night. You had your one night.”

  “Fuck what I said. Be at my place by six. We’re going to talk about this.”

  “Don’t change your mind because of what I said last night. I didn’t tell you that to put pressure on you.”

  “Didn’t you?” I ask with a smile.

  “No, I really didn’t. I don’t do shit like that.”

  “I know you don’t. Be there at six. We’ll talk then.”

  “You work until eight.”

  She pays such close attention to me that she knows my routine almost as well as I do. I’m surprised she didn’t know about the five a.m. workouts. “Tonight, I work until five thirty. Be there.”

  “Or else what?” she asks in that saucy tone I’m starting to crave.

  I narrow my eyes in a look that I already know has no effect on her. “You won’t want to find out.”

  “You’re really not scary at all, even when you’re trying to be.”

  “I
never want you to be afraid of me in any way. Domination isn’t about fear.”

  “I told you—I’m not afraid of you that way.”

  “We’re going to talk about this.” After what I went through with Elena and the monster who ruined her, the thought of any woman being afraid of me isn’t something I can handle. I’m going to put a stop to that before this goes any further. And yes, I’m fully aware that if this is going to continue, I’m going to have to make an actual commitment to her, which I am so not prepared to do. But I’m also not prepared to stop something that feels so fucking good.

  So there you have it. If I want more of her, I have to give her more of me.

  Chapter 12

  He’s so fucking sexy when he’s riled up, especially when wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit. Ellie told me he travels to London twice a year to get the best suits in the world. I watch him go, paying close attention to the exceptional fit of the gray pinstripe. Now I know what he’s got going on under the gorgeous clothes he wears, and let me say for the record that my vivid imagination didn’t do him justice.

  “Do I smell Emmett?” Marlowe asks when she steps into my office a couple of minutes after he leaves.

  I realize I’ve been staring at the door that whole time. He scrambled my brains with that wild kiss right in the office where anyone might’ve caught us. “He stopped by.” I hope she won’t make a thing of why he was visiting me. I still haven’t said anything to her about him. “You just missed him. What’s up? Did the grocery delivery arrive on time this morning?”

  “Yes, right on time.” Marlowe lands in my visitor chair, and yes, I still want to scream every time the extraordinary woman who’s now my boss and friend plops herself down in my office to chat. “Have I mentioned how much I love having my own Addie?”

  “A few thousand times,” I say, smiling. “Although being compared to the gold standard never gets old.”