After several moments, he dropped his head between my shoulder blades again, and I felt his panting chest matching my own vigorous breaths.
“I could do this all day with you, Lily.”
Still panting, I said, “Fine by me, but you’ll have to feed me eventually. Or I won’t be able to keep up with you.” He was an animal. Completely insatiable. I loved it.
“I’ll feed you anything you want,” he said. “Just don’t leave.”
It felt like a sincere plea from his heart. Or maybe it was his sexy afterglow talking. I wasn’t sure, but I knew I wanted to stay with him, too. It was the fear of what was to come that had me wanting to run.
He withdrew, and I turned around, reaching for his neck to pull his lips to mine. His mouth moved in lazy, sated strokes.
Then a thought struck me, and I pulled back, staring him in the eyes. “Max?”
“Yes?” His tone indicated he thought I was up to something.
“You do realize you haven’t looked away from me since yesterday.” Not once.
He made a little blink, perhaps surprised. “I think it’s because when I look at you, I see us. And we’re beautiful together.”
I slid my hands to his cheek. “Now that’s the sweetest, corniest thing I’ve ever heard.” And it genuinely melted my heart. “Please say it again.”
It turned out that Max was just as bad of a cook as I was. Nevertheless, between the two of us, we managed to whip up some banana pancakes in his huge chef’s kitchen with gleaming white-speckled granite countertops, stainless steel indoor grill, and a panoramic window with a view of the lake that bathed the space in warm, cheery light. My favorite part of the morning, however, wasn’t the view of the lake. It was his unstoppable smile. Okay. That, and he wore absolutely nothing underneath his apron and every time he turned around, his adorable, perfectly round ass cheeks peeked out below that broad, muscled, smooth back.
After we ate on the patio, just outside the kitchen—and no, he did not put on clothes (so hot)—I borrowed some mouthwash and a spare toothbrush and we took yet another shower. I honestly felt like I couldn’t get enough of him—his body pressed against mine, his hot kisses, his strong hands holding me to him.
After another slow session of long drawn-out orgasms, we lay in his bed again, facing each other. He didn’t take his eyes off me.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, Miss Snow, I am.”
“Good.”
“And I’ll enjoy it even more once the drama is put behind us,” he said.
That got me thinking. “You seem so confident that this will all shake out in your favor.” And in mine.
He ran his finger from that hollow at the base of my neck and trailed it down between my breasts. “That’s because I am.”
“What if you’re wrong?” I asked.
“I’m never wrong. And the moment she publishes that book, I’ll prove her wrong.”
I didn’t like this one bit. “How?”
He looked away.
“Uhhh…what was that?” I said, sitting up.
“What?”
“You looked away. What are you planning?”
I looked down, and the worst possible thoughts trickled through my head. “Are you planning to use me?”
“What? Fuck no. Lily, I would never…” He sat up, gripped my shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m an asshole, but not a heartless one. I would never hurt you like that.”
I released a mental sigh. Okay, it had been a completely ridiculous thought. Shame on me for even thinking it. “Then tell me.”
He didn’t want to. I could see it in his eyes. “I don’t know if I can at the moment; I’m too busy focusing on not spanking the hell out of you for that last comment.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t be a barbarian.”
“I thought you liked the alpha male in me,” he countered.
I glared.
“Fine. No spanking,” he conceded. “But do you honestly believe I built a multibillion-dollar company by winging it? Or not knowing how to manage the media?”
Well, when he put it like that. “No. I guess not.”
“Then trust that I’ve got it covered. I’ve got a team of people ready to deal with this. Not only will that book be laughed at, but it will be used to sell millions of dollars of product.”
I didn’t like the feel of this. He was going to lie. Of course, he’d been backed into a corner and the truth was something very personal. Nancy Little intended to violate his privacy for revenge. An unjustified revenge. But how could this possibly end well? I didn’t see it.
“I know that look,” he said. “You’re judging me and about to say something negative.”
How did he know? “I just don’t want you—us—to get hurt.” Because at the end of the day, he was a good person. And I certainly didn’t deserve this either.
“I will protect you. Your career will be fine. Everything will work out. Now, can I take you to collect some clothes?”
“Why? You’re cured now. Intensive therapy is over.”
“Because I want you. Here. In my bed.”
I liked the sound of that. “Fine. Twist my arm. But can we go for a run when we get back?”
“Are you going to jog topless again?” he asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“Do you have any idea how badly that image tortured me? I couldn’t stop seeing your bouncing breasts in my head for weeks.”
I gave him a sly look. The idea of him pining away for me was too much. “I’ll run topless if you do.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
~~~
Monday morning at the office was sexual torture. No frigging way would we be maintaining a professional relationship at work, which meant something had to give.
I should’ve known.
For starters, on Sunday, we had gone back to my place for some clothes, fucked in my room, and then returned to his house to go at it again until we were spent, but not sated. When we left his house exhausted in the morning, and he’d insisted on driving in together in his new black Porsche Panamera, I was unable to resist his uncharacteristic, dopy grin.
“I can drive myself. I promise,” I’d said.
“You slept one hour. Let me drive,” he’d argued.
“You, too.”
“Yes, however, I run a global company. I’m used to it.” He gave me his first puppy-dog look.
Yes, I melted.
“Fine. You drive,” I said. My first mistake.
Then I told him to drop me off two blocks from the building before parking in the garage next door. He refused, kissed me at a stoplight until I couldn’t think straight, and proceeded to do what the hell he pleased: parking where he always parked.
Okay. No big deal. No one from the office has seen us together. But it felt like he wanted us to be seen.
Or didn’t give a rat’s ass.
Walking to our building, I frowned at the beautiful man, awestruck by his extreme happiness, and knowing how long he’d waited for this moment—to finally feel free. Which made me happy, too. He could basically ask anything of me, and I would agree.
On the elevator ride up to our offices, we were alone, and he mauled me for twenty blissful seconds—tongue, hands, grinding action—the works—until we got to my floor.
“For lunch, I’m going to fuck you in my office so hard,” he’d whispered, “you’ll forget your name.”
I staggered out of the elevator with red lips, my hair half fallen from the bun I’d carefully put into place, and my white fitted blouse half untucked.
Yes, I got plenty of looks from my coworkers, most assuming I’d just staggered in from a night of partying and getting laid. They were only half right.
Then came the monthly staff meeting. When I was supposed to be paying attention, all I could do was stare at my boss and think about the multitude of ways he’d licked me, sucked me, and penetrated me over the past two days. I’d counted fourteen orgasms. Fourteen. And I had the sore body to show for it. I’d literally zoned out through a thirty-minute marketing presentation on their new tropical-color trends because I was too busy fantasizing about Max—who, by the way, made it no secret that he did not approve of my blatant ogling and drooling.