It made him even hotter to have her, naked, in his bed.
To make her his for real.
She rubbed herself against him frantically, her tongue swirling over his, and bam. She came, her whole body freezing as a tiny little whimper escaped, long and drawn out until it ended in a sigh. He could have kept going. Could have bent her over, and fucked her until she’d forgotten all about ever wanting to keep their relationship professional. But that wouldn’t be fair. So, despite every single muscle in his body screaming for him to finish what he’d started, he let go of her and backed off.
Gave her room to breathe.
“Holy crap.” She collapsed against the wall. “I never…I mean… Oh my God.”
Smoothing her hair off her face and away from her swollen lips, he locked eyes with her. He shifted his position, trying to ease the throbbing insistence of his aching cock. She might have gotten more than a kiss, but he hadn’t, and his body was all too aware of that fact. “Maggie…”
She licked her lips and shrugged off his hold, and he watched the wet path her tongue left behind, unable to glance away. “I need…I need a minute.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Pushing away from the wall, and her, he forced his expression into a cool, calm, collected mask. He had a hell of a lot of practice at doing so, but still it was harder than normal, which probably wasn’t a good sign of things to come. “We should discuss rules and plans.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand and walked toward the door on trembling legs. She stumbled and he reached out to steady her, but she caught herself on the edge of his desk. “Yes, we should, but not now. I-I need to go.”
“Okay.” So he kissed her, and she bolted. His earlier suspicions had been confirmed—she was a runner. He’d scared her. Shaken her. Well, she’d shaken him, too. So they were even. “Meet me for dinner tomorrow? So we can discuss everything in detail?”
She froze in the doorway. “Where?”
“Macaluso’s. Eight.”
She hesitated, but nodded. “See you there.”
He watched her leave, an emptiness taking hold of the pit of his stomach as she walked away from him, but it wasn’t strong enough to dispel the satisfaction of having a plan in place. One that would secure his position, once and for all—while giving him an excuse to kiss Maggie.
As soon as the door shut behind her, he went into his private bathroom, locked the door, and undid his pants. Gripping the counter with his left hand, he closed out the world, a small smile slipping into place as he slid his right hand inside his pants, squeezing his erection. She was honest, fresh, sweet, and even better? Naughty as hell underneath those knee length pencil skirts and soft silk blouses.
He moved his hand faster, grunting as the pleasure made his balls tighten and pull up close to his body. The more frantically his hand moved, the more he pictured Maggie’s face as she came, and how she’d ridden his leg—until, letting out a long groan, he came, hard and fast. It wasn’t enough.
It wouldn’t be until he had Maggie in his arms again.
Chapter Four
The next night, Maggie couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a big mistake when she’d agreed to be her boss’s fake fiancée. This whole thing was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea. Ever since she’d agreed to pretend to be Mr. Gale’s fiancée, nothing had gone her way.
From the moment she’d woken up that morning to her eventful trip to the restaurant to meet Mr. Gale, it had been a day from hell. While she wasn’t exactly the superstitious type who read tea leaves or life lines on her palm, she couldn’t help but think it was an omen of things to come.
And it might be best to listen.
Even so. Here she was.
Being an idiot, yet again, over Benjamin Gale III.
She’d spent the day getting “made over” by her roommate and best friend, Becca, and the result had been quite stunning…even if she’d been burned by the curling iron three times to achieve it. She wore a light gold dress that looked as if it belonged in a ballroom instead of some fancy restaurant, and her heels were sky high. High enough to hurt her ankles and make her wobble unsteadily every now and then, but the pain was totally worth it. Her hair had been swept into a loose side braid, and she couldn’t help but feel like a princess.
She pulled out her phone. I’m almost there. Wish me luck.
You don’t need it. Becca replied quickly.
Maggie looked out the window. They were almost there. Are you going out?
Nope. I have a hot date with Netflix and a bottle of wine.
Wish I did, too. Maggie blew out a breath.
Becca didn’t reply back.
The cab she’d hired stopped outside a fancy restaurant that she’d never have set foot in on her own. A plate here cost the equivalent of a month’s worth of groceries for her. Luckily, she wouldn’t be paying. Her freaking rich fiancé would.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, choking her.
“Oh, God,” she said out loud. “What were you thinking?”
She’d lied, and she’d have to deal with the consequences. Next time she wanted to swoop in and help someone out…she’d keep her stupid mouth shut.
No matter how hot the guy was.
Or how great a kisser.
Her stomach tightened when she remembered the way he’d made her combust in his office. She’d never, ever, come so hard, so fast, before. The way he touched her had made her whole body come to life, begging for more. It was all she’d been able to think about. But whatever. She’d be fine.
It wasn’t as if she needed another taste. Or even wanted one.
God, even she snorted at that bold lie.
Yesterday, after his knee brought her to heights she’d never seen, she’d been a quivering mess. Benjamin had stepped back, watching her with cool detachment. That had been the worst part about that mind-numbing kiss. Sure, he’d said all those things about them being a good team, and working together was a pleasure, blah blah blah, but his tone had been cool. Aloof. Uninterested.
Completely unreadable.
Just like him.
After taking a long, deep breath, she paid the cabbie and opened the door. She’d go in there, they would plot their strategy just like they did in a normal business meeting, and she would treat it like any other day in the office. That was the secret. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. As soon as she—
She stepped out and landed her best pair of heels in a big, dirty puddle of questionable origins. “Oh, come on.”
The cabbie turned in his seat. “There a problem?”
“No. It’s nothing.”
As she climbed from the cab, she smacked her head on the top of the car. This time she didn’t even bother to cry out, because she wasn’t even in the least bit surprised. It was just the way the day had been going. And would continue to go, from all appearances. She shut the cab door, and it pulled away…
Two seconds after she realized she’d left her purse in the backseat.
“Wait!” she screamed, raising her arm and chasing after him.
He stopped, and she managed to retrieve her purse in the nick of time. Hugging it to her chest, she closed her eyes and took a second.
Because, God, she needed a second.
“Come on, Maggie. You can do this. You’re not cursed, and it’s not an omen. Go in there, and it’ll be fine. It’s just another job.”
“You weren’t kidding, were you?” a slightly amused voice asked. “You really do like talking to yourself.”
She shook her head and wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow her, since that freaking meteorite had been a no-show last night. It would be better than whatever was coming next. “Sir?”
“Benjamin. You have to call me Benjamin.” He walked up to her, and his woodsy, male scent washed over her. She breathed it in like it had healing properties. “Look at me, Maggie.”