by Kennedy Fox
“Those were all the same reasons I had fallen in love with Maxwell, too.”
I grab his face between my hands, bending forward to kiss him. He pulls back to whisper, “I missed those lips.”
“I bet you did.” I smack him playfully on the chest. He grips my hips, pulling me to straddle his lap, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“How did your interview go?”
“Ugh…” I sigh. “I honestly don’t want to even think about it. I left twenty minutes early and still managed to be late. Stupid train!”
I swear, it seems like every time I think I’m getting my life together, something sends me falling on my ass again. I’ve applied for three other creative marketing jobs. Anything to get my foot in the door now that I’ve graduated with my degree.
“Well, job or no job, I’m done waiting for you to get your ass here. You can still move and find a job while you’re living with me.”
We’ve argued about this topic a few times now, but I don’t want to be dependent on any man. My student housing lease isn’t up until the end of next month.
“You do realize there’s going to come a day when you’re my wife, and it’s all going to be your money anyway.”
I glare at him out of the corner of my eye, fighting like hell not to let loose the grin that’s threatening to split my face in two. We’ve talked about our future, but this is the first time he’s ever put it like that.
I can’t even control it. The thought of being Merric’s wife has me smiling like a damn loon.
He sighs. “You like the sound of that, too, baby?”
I nod, grinding against him in his lap, kissing him again as though my life depends on it.
“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.” I pull back, leaving barely any space between us.
“Me, either. Although, I will say the thought of spreading you out on top of my desk right now is a close second.”
“Merric Maxwell Thorne.” I giggle.
His eyes turn dark and damn it if he isn’t making it difficult to turn him down.
“I want the sight of you naked on top of my desk burned into my memory.” His deep voice comes out gravelly. “I want the sight of your legs spread open for me with your hair fanned out on my desk to be all I can think of when I’m sitting here trying to work.”
“I don’t think you’ll be getting any work done.”
“That’s the point, baby.” He grins.
Bonus Epilogue
MERRIC - DECEMBER
“Oaklyn!” I holler when I walk through the front door of the cabin.
We have made plans to return to the place we had stayed last winter to celebrate our anniversary before finishing the trip up to Richmond to see family for the holidays.
The fireplace is going in the living room with a few candles burning on the end table and kitchen counter. The soft sound of music plays throughout the house.
We’ve been living together as a couple in my apartment since August. Shortly after introducing her to one of my clients, Cohen, Oaklyn accepted a job as a marketing director for his company. I hadn’t intended for it to work out the way it did, and if she thought I was intentionally trying to set her up, she wouldn’t have been happy with me.
She had been stubborn and insisted on knowing both the job she had and the place she lived in was hers because she had earned them.
She happened to show up at the office one day, mistaking Cohen for his twin brother and one of my best friends Cane. Cohen Daniels is a real estate investor in Myrtle Beach and is one of the best at what he does. The three of us grew up together.
We had been discussing Cohen’s investments during our meeting, and he shared he was in the process of changing his marketing strategies. I couldn’t have timed it more perfectly if I had tried. Once our meeting wrapped up, and I walked him out, he ran into Oaklyn firing jokes at River.
He was eager to meet with her to discuss her experience and the job. I was grateful to him because it meant convincing her to move in was solved.
“In here.” Her voice muffles, coming from down the hallway.
It’s going on four months now of us living together, and each day, it only seems to get better.
Before our trip to Richmond last Christmas, I never truly knew Oaklyn. Sure, we had shared that kiss the night of my dad’s funeral, and we saw each other at family events. I wasn’t blind to how beautiful she was or the light she brought to everyone around her, but given the age difference between us, I never let myself think about her in any other way.
Everything shifted between us when we spent that weekend together.
My world before her was dark and gloomy. My days were spent working long hours in the office, never thinking or caring about anything else. The only women who captured my attention were the ones I’d pick up at the club after a few drinks, but it never went beyond those first encounters. Hell, most of the women I could barely remember their names, much less take their phone numbers.
Like I said, everything changed for me after the weekend with Oaklyn. The entire drive back home, the farther away I got from her, the worse I felt. Each day that passed since I last saw her felt like my world was crashing down around me.
The hallway leading to the bedroom is dark, with only the smallest light shining through the crack in the door. I push against it, peeking my head through to find her sitting at the vanity, her back facing me with her long, blonde hair curled in waves.
“Hi, baby.” Her smile greets me in the mirror, nibbling on her bottom lip when she notices me eyeing her.
My eyes roam over her creamy skin to her soft hair swept over one shoulder. I pause when I see her reflection in the mirror, studying the red lace bra and matching red panties she’s wearing.
My hands tighten into fists at the sight of her, attempting to calm the urge to pull her out of the chair and explore her body.
“Hi, beautiful.”
My mouth falls open when she pushes her hair to the side, giving me a glimpse of her breasts through her sheer bra. My hands itch to touch her, my body aches, needing to feel her skin.
“I thought I would give you a sneak peek of your anniversary gift now.”
My eyes flick back up to hers, her crystal-blue eyes shining like ice in the mirror. We had planned on giving our gifts later, after we had dinner. Although, looking at her now, any thoughts or expectations of me thinking about anything else but ravaging her are completely out the window.
“We don’t have to wait,” I grunt, my voice dropping. “I’m ready right now.”
“Mmm,” she hums. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She moves to stand, turning to face me, and for the first time, I notice the sheer stockings she’s wearing attached to garter belts.
I grit my teeth, my throat bobbing while I struggle to swallow.
“My God, what are you doing to me?” I reach down, cupping my dick through my denim jeans, fighting to maintain a sense of control. I’m stuck, rooted in place, unable to take my eyes off her body.
I notice the hint of her pale pink nipples through her bra, puckering from my heated stare.
When she finally reaches me, my hand shoots out to pull her in until she’s firmly against my chest, and she’s giggling at my need to feel her.
“I think dinner will have to wait until tomorrow now.”
“You’re not going to feed me?” She raises her brow, that sass she throws back.
“Oh, I’ll feed you, all right.” I raise my brow, too, suggestively.
“Oh my God.” She throws her head back, the sound of her laughter making me grin like a damn idiot. I’d do anything to hear that sound for the rest of my life.
I cup her face in my hands, kissing her deeply, and her fingers grip the front of my shirt. A subtle moan escapes her lips, pulling me back to stare into her eyes.
“I was going to wait until later, but I want to make love to you all over this damn house.”
“Mmm, tell me more.”
<
br /> Desire glazes over her eyes when she peers up at me, waiting for me to continue. She’s told me before how she loves when I tell her what’s on my mind, so I do.
“Well, right now, I’m thinking about how I want to make love to you on that fluffy-ass rug in front of the fire. We can take a break and I’ll feed you some dinner. You’ll need it to keep up with me, then maybe we can go out on the patio and try that hot tub you were so eager to check out.”
When I suggested we come back up here to stay for our anniversary, she told me how she wanted another chance for us to re-create our first night spent together. We hadn’t realized they added a hot tub until we got here. Oaklyn made me promise to join her, and I agreed I would, as long as she was naked.
She pushes up on her tiptoes again, pulling me down to kiss her. It’s soft at first, growing with need when her mouth opens, and her tongue brushes over my lips.
I groan, reaching around to grab her thighs, lifting her. She circles her legs around my waist, her arms following suit. I turn, carrying her out of the room and down the hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“I can’t get the thought of you on the rug, spread open for me, out of my mind. I’ve been dying to touch you, to feel you wrapped around me since I walked into this damn room.”
She moans, grinding her pussy against me. My dick is so hard, it’s practically begging to burst free from the confines of my pants.
“Fuck, baby.”
Circling the chair, I move until we’re standing on the rug, and she loosens her legs. In one quick movement, she steps down and is on her knees before me, reaching for the button of my pants, sliding the zipper down.
“Oaklyn,” I breathe out harshly, my nostrils flaring.
“Yes.” She peers up at me. Those fucking eyes stare at me beneath her long, dark lashes.
I rub my thumb along her lower lip, tracing its plumpness. When she sucks it into her mouth, I mutter out a string of curse words, which only seems to encourage her more.
She lets go once my zipper is down, using her hands to tug my pants until they’re below my knees. Her eyes light up, a devious smile stretching across her face when she reaches out, wrapping her hand around my cock.
“Merric.” Her voice cracks, leaning forward to swipe her tongue over the head.
I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to take it, wanting to feel her tight heat around me.
“Lie back, baby.”
She releases me with a pop, and as much as I want to taste her, I need to feel her right now. She quickly slips her panties down and lies back, her arm running over the fluffy rug. She looks like an angel, and I can’t breathe at the sight of her spread open for me.
I kick off my pants and join her on the floor. Holding her leg up, I kiss a path from her ankle to the apex of her thigh. Her body trembles beneath my touch, her fingers reaching for my hair as she whispers for me to make love to her.
I rest on my forearms above her head, leaning down to kiss her while positioning myself at her entrance.
“I love you,” I whisper, pulling back to look her in the eye.
“I love you, too.” Tears gloss her eyes, her legs wrapping around my waist to hold herself to me while I thrust all the way in. “More than anything in this world.”
I don’t deserve her, this much I know, but I’ll spend every day of my life trying.
About the Author
Brooke O'Brien is an author of steamy and swoon-worthy contemporary romances. She believes a love worth having is worth fighting for, and she brings this into her stories where her characters risk it all for love. If Brooke's not writing or reading, she's probably spending time with her family, binge-watching the latest crime documentary, indulging in chocolate, or watching Hawkeye football or NBA basketball.
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I didn’t want to go to my company’s holiday party, especially not after Vaughn fucking Richards had the audacity to give the promotion I’d earned to his baby brother. Nepotism at its finest. I was a strong, independent woman with more experience and more success. The dude that took my dream job was fresh out of college and got the nervous sweats when addressing the room. Did I mention he was underqualified?
It didn’t help that my boss had also been starring in all my naughty fantasies for the last seven years. Between the unrequited attraction and the impenetrable glass ceiling, I’ve decided to leave to work for my friend’s start-up in California.
But, oh, I’m going out with a bang.
This holiday party has bottomless Bloody Marys, and I’m giving my two weeks’ notice with jingle bells on.
I just wasn’t expecting Vaughn Richards to be so determined to make me stay.
Chapter 1
“You look like you put a lot of effort into your appearance today, Sena,” Adam said, his expression blank. I grinned. That was basically a compliment coming from my best friend, and he wasn’t wrong. I had put in a lot of effort. Every day was a fashion show in the city, but today I took things an extra step. I wore a long sleeved, sequined red dress, black tights, and some designer heels. My faux fur coat was slung over the back of my chair, and my long black hair was up in a bun on top of my head. “But your face makes you look intimidating. Are you grinding your teeth? You know that’s very bad for you.”
At least the first part of his statement was half of a compliment. Adam meant well. He was just unapologetically honest and didn’t pick up on social cues. I forced a smile as I glared at the drink in front of me, willing my best friend to shut up. “Vaughn announced who got the promotion today,” I growled.
Adam went quiet for a moment, processing my words before responding. “Deductive reasoning tells me that you didn’t get the job, but the natural flow of this conversation dictates that I’m supposed to ask, regardless,” Adam said while staring at the bar top.
I met Adam when I moved to New York. He was sitting on a bench in Central Park, writing in his notepad. It was the only bench available, and my feet were killing me. I wasn’t about to sit on the freezing ground, so I sat by him. I’ll never forget how he scooted as far away from me as possible the moment my ass hit the seat. Before becoming a true New Yorker who didn’t give a shit, I considered myself to be chronically polite, so I asked him what he was working on. I wasn’t expecting him to be so talkative. Adam went into an hour-long monologue about a physics class he was taking at NYU. He lived in Brooklyn and was as loyal as they came. I liked Adam. He was good to me—sometimes a bit too honest, but still good to me. He was never late for our meetups. He always made sure I got home safely and texted me about the weather every morning to make sure I was properly dressed—a habit he started when I first moved here and he was annoyed with my lack of preparedness. The only reason I brought an umbrella with me most days was because Adam pestered me about it.
“Vaughn gave it to his baby brother. The guy is barely qualified. He just graduated. I looked at his file, Adam. His GPA was a two point five. He spent most of his senior year on academic probation, and now they want to hire him as managing editor for the Jet Times? I’ve been working here for seven years. Seven years! I’ve busted my ass. Hell, I’ve already been doing the job for Vaughn without the title! And now he’s going to be working alongside his baby brother who knows absolutely nothing about this business, and who’s going to be left to pick up the slack? Me.”
Adam rocked on his stool slightly. “I can understand why that would be frustrating,” he stated.
“I just feel like it doesn’t matter what I do. It’s all about who you know or who your parents are. I thought Vaughn was better than that.”
Vaughn Richards, my boss, was the owner of our publication as well as the editor in chief. His wealthy socialite mother promoted him just before I started working there when I graduated from college. Vaughn ran the Jet Times seamlessly and ethically. When he wasn
’t overseeing the newspaper, he was in the field. Investigative journalism was always his first love. He liked rolling up his sleeves and diving into the story while traveling the world. I honestly didn’t know how he did it all.
Adam glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He was wearing a soft red sweater and his signature denim jeans. The bar we were in was decorated with flashing Christmas lights, but it was still quiet. The evening rush hadn’t started yet.
“Did you know that by age thirty, about twenty-two percent of American sons will be working for the same employer as their fathers?” Adam asked before pulling out his trusty notebook. “It’s also more common in the United States than anywhere else. The Jet Times is owned by your boss’s mother, right?”
I picked up my cocktail and took a drink. “Yes. But that still doesn’t make it right. I’m not even surprised,” I choked out after gulping some of the strong concoction. “The glass ceiling isn’t made of glass. It’s steel. I should have taken the month off like my parents suggested and gone to South Korea with them to visit my grandparents for the holidays.”
Adam picked up his room temperature glass of water and took a small sip. “But we have Christmas plans. Did you get the itinerary I sent you?”
I smiled. “Yes. I put it all in my calendar, down to the hot cocoa at 9:06 Christmas Eve,” I replied sarcastically. “Also, I might need to veto the matching pajamas you picked out.”
“But the onesie is cozy and had four thousand five-star reviews for softness on Amazon.” Adam looked appalled that I didn’t like the flannel zip up pajamas he’d picked.
I’d already ordered the damn onesie but liked challenging Adam. It was good for him. “At least I still have a week and a half off. Not even Christmas in New York can brighten my mood. Isn’t it supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year?”