by Desiree Holt
“He was there all the time,” a deep voice boomed from behind him.
Kurt’s head whipped around.
Max appeared behind Kurt, a fake smile plastered on his face although a touch of anger flashed in his eyes. “Stacy and I had a little misunderstanding. No biggie. It’s all patched up now. Anyway, she won’t be doing the tango with anyone else anymore. Her dance card is filled.”
Deedee stood in the doorway, eyes wide, face flushed with excitement. “Sorry, Stacy. He said you were expecting him and just breezed on past me.”
“No problem. He’s right. Go on back to your desk.”
Deedee was a statue in the doorway eyed Max like he was a piece of candy in that box.
“Go on, Deedee,” Stacy repeated.
Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’re Max Sullivan, right?”
Max put on his professional smile—the one he used when local news interviewed him after a triumph on the field.
“Yes. And you would be?”
“Kurt Macallister.” He reached out a hand. “I never miss a Warriors game. ESPN is still replaying that video of the Hail Mary pass you threw in the game against the Patriots.”
“Yeah, my fifteen minutes of fame,” he joked.
Stacy watched the two men in her tiny office space and smiled to herself. She could almost hear Kurt’s brain burning as he tried to figure out what she was doing with Max Sullivan. Max, on the other hand, behaved pleasant but aloof and looked as if he wished Kurt would get out of there already.
Winking at Stacy, he walked around the other man, lifted her from her chair, and pulled her in tight to his chest. Then, without further warning, he brought his lips down on hers in a kiss that curled her toes and sent moisture flooding her panties. His body was hard against hers. All of him was hard including his rock-hard penis imprinting itself on her flesh through her flirty little skirt.
If he gave a performance, it was a damn good one. So good her wits scattered like leaves in a breeze.
“Well.” Vaguely, Stacy heard someone clearing his throat. “Apparently this isn’t a good time to chat with you.”
She opened her eyes and glanced over Max’s shoulder. Kurt still stood in front of her desk, hands in his pockets, irritation and maybe jealousy lining his face.
Max lifted his mouth from hers. “Yeah, that’s right. Stacy’s leaving for lunch and won’t be back for a while.” He turned his face to Stacy, still holding her close to him. “You ready, sugar?”
Stacy’s head spun. She barely heard whatever comeback Kurt made, too busy staring at Max through lust-clouded eyes. Lordy, the man was gorgeous. Clad in black slacks and a black V-neck sweater, with a smidgen of sexy chest hair peeking over the ribbing, his outfit practically matched his hair, and the blue in his eyes appeared deeper than ever. He topped it all with an elegant camel colored sport jacket and a smile that came straight from the devil himself.
“Get your purse, Stacy,” he told her. “Time to go.”
“Um,” was all she could manage.
Max took a step back, his sensuous mouth crooked up in a smile. Sensuous mouth? When had she put those two words and Max together?
“Stacy? You ready, sweetheart?” His warm voice wrapped itself around her like an erotic blanket.
“Uh, yes. Let me get my purse.”
Pulling her scrambled brains together, she managed to retrieve her bag from her desk drawer without dropping it.
“She may be late getting back,” he told a dumbfounded Deedee as they sailed into the hallway.
It was almost humorous the way heads popped out of cubicles and eyes stared at them as they made their way to the elevator. Almost, but not quite because, again, it brought home to Stacy people’s surprise at a man—any man, let alone one like Max Sullivan—sending her giant boxes of chocolates, giving her the kiss of the century in her office, then sweeping her off to lunch. She might have dwelt on it longer only Max urged her into the elevator and pressed the Down button so the doors would close immediately.
“Think that made an impression?” he asked with a grin.
“More like a sinkhole,” she told him now that she could catch her breath. “Wow!”
“The guy in your office who glared as if he wanted to shoot me. I take it he’s resident asshole?”
She nodded. “That’s Kurt.”
“Forgive me for saying so, Stacy. That guy even looks like an asshole. I need to talk to you about your taste in men.”
“Not today, okay?” How to tell him she really wanted to pretend what they were enjoying was a fun, romantic luncheon and she didn’t want to talk about Kurt or anyone else? He’d think her nuts. The whole plan was all pretend and she had to keep that in mind. Even though her brain was still fogged from that kiss.
“I can already tell he’s a loser.” He hugged her against him and gave her a playful grin. “I’m so much handsomer. And much nicer.”
Was he only teasing her? More of his usual Max-type jokes? For an insane moment, she wanted this to be real.
While she wondered, he kissed her on the cheek. Just a gentle brush of lips against her overheated skin, but fire cascaded through her blood as if struck with a match. What went on with her body and Max? He’d kissed her three times, each completely different than the others. And each one had scorched her inside out and made every erogenous zone in her body do an up-tempo happy dance.
With Max?
Good thing they were going someplace with people around. She needed to clear her head.
“You know,” she told him, “you don’t really have to take me to lunch. I can grab a bite, stay away an appropriate length of time, then go back to the office.”
He turned her to face him. “We have a deal,” he reminded her. “And I always keep my word. Maybe we should go somewhere people who know the asshole will see us and word can get back to him.”
“I just don’t want you to—”
He touched the tip of a finger to her lips. “Don’t you want to have lunch with me? I think my feelings are hurt.”
He looked so cute with his fake pout she couldn’t help smiling.
“Of course I want to. You pick the restaurant. I don’t care who sees us or not.”
He took her to a restaurant called Morrie’s. Although the place bustled with the lunchtime crowd, the hostess took time to greet Max.
“Hey, handsome.” She turned her cheek to his for a light peck. “You always brighten up this place when you come in.”
“Thanks, Gwen.” He pulled Stacy forward. “Meet Stacy Halligan.”
Gwen gave her a practiced smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Got our table ready?” Max asked.
The woman eyed Stacy with blatant interest but nodded.
“I do. Just follow me.”
Stacy had never been there before so, as they made their way to a table in the corner, she took in all the details. She noted the quiet ambience, muted conversation, the understated elegance of tables draped in white linen, the carved wainscoting on the walls, and the recessed lights.
“Very nice,” she said when they were seated.
“I like it. The food’s great, and it’s quiet enough to have a decent conversation.”
She scanned the room, curious. “Is Morrie’s one of your usual hangouts?”
Max laughed. “I don’t have hangouts, Stacy. Unless you consider my townhouse. Just places I like to go.”
A few other customers spotted him, nodded, and smiled. “People know you here. Aren’t you worried they might misconstrue you being with me?”
“I don’t care who sees us.” He reached for one of her hands. “Do you?”
“No. Of course not. I only meant—”
“Quit worrying. I have a plan and I’m sticking to it. Now.” He released her hand and opened his menu. “Let me tell you what’s really good here.”
Max insisted on ordering a glass of wine for her. She was wound so tight, he feared she might release like a spring.
“O
ne glass,” he coaxed. “Your favorite.”
He desperately wanted one himself only he couldn’t afford to make a careless mistake. Too much depended on what happened going forward. A good field general had his wits about him at all times.
So far, his plan was right on track. He’d shocked the hell out of her with the hot kiss in her office. And telling himself it was all for show was a big fat lie. A good quarterback had to be able to read the field and know when certain plays were called for. Besides, he’d wanted to make sure the electric sizzle from the night before hadn’t been a mistake. Or his imagination.
Seeing her in her work environment, desk stacked with projects, gave him a better picture of her. Especially her coworkers’ stunned expressions when he swept in, gave her a kiss to sizzle the air, and hauled her off to lunch. He was not one of those athletes who gorged on his celebrity , but if he could use it to make Stacy’s life more exciting, maybe, along the way, he’d show her they belonged together. The candy that morning had already started the gossips buzzing. He hoped his appearance at her office ramped it up. And not just because she deserved it.
Had her total immersion in her job blunted her ability to make smart choices where men were concerned? If so, fine, because it gave him the opening he’d been waiting for.
When she’d first moved in next door and figured out who he was, he’d waited for the usual reactions. It stunned him when she didn’t try to get her picture taken with him, wasn’t jonesing to meet the other players, and actually liked to talk football with him. Stacy offered a refreshing change from the women who gravitated to him.
Okay, friends, he’d thought. Good. Someone he could relax around. Bitch about stuff to. He even ignored his initial reaction to her because he liked hanging out with her in a no-pressure situation.
Max couldn’t have said exactly when he realized, at least for him, what they were doing had turned into a whole lot more. It was so easy to be with her—he didn’t have to be anyone but himself—that his attitude changed before he even realized it. He made sure he didn’t give her any hint of his feelings. She was always hot after these metrosexual losers, and he felt her pain as one after the other of the so-called relationships turned out to be duds.
Then, one day, he realized he had a much harder time concealing his feelings for her. He wanted her, physically and emotionally. They fit. However, he still had no idea how to convince her of that without ruining what they already shared. Fate had dropped an opportunity into his lap, though, and he planned to make the most of it.
Electricity crackled between them if she’d only give it half a chance. Those incendiary kisses really blew his mind. Man, the woman had a hot mouth and a tongue like velvet. So pretty, sexy, funny, the complete package. The men in this town must have their heads up their asses if they didn’t appreciate her.
But good for me, or I might never have been able to make this happen. And I’m not just in it for show.
He had two weeks to prove to her they were good together, and he planned to pull out all the stops. The night before, when he kissed her, his body stood up and begged for more. Not even in his dreams had he realized how explosive kissing Stacy Halligan would be. Now he wanted more. Of her. In his bed. And in his life.
The problem would be convincing her, since their big romance was supposed to be nothing more than an act.
Think of it like a football game and put a plan together, with lots of option plays. Maybe even an end around.
He chuckled to himself at that.
“This is very nice of you.”
Stacy’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. She smiled at him, her plump lips begging for him to take a taste. He wanted to lick every inch of them. He could still feel the aftereffects of their kiss. Both kisses, as a matter of fact.
Easy, boy. You’re in a public place.
“I’m having fun.” He winked. “What’s not to enjoy? A great lunch with a beautiful, sexy lady? I’ll bet every man in here would pay to change places with me.”
She tilted her head. “You really think that?”
He frowned. “Think what?”
“That I’m beautiful? Sexy? You know, those things.”
The waiter had cleared their plates, so Max reached across the table and took one of her hands in both of his. He rubbed his thumb casually back and forth across her palm.
“Of course, I do. I always have.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Always?”
He nodded.
“Max, you only ever see me in sloppy clothes, with no makeup. And half the time in a bad mood.”
“And still,” he teased, “I think you’re beautiful and sexy.”
She started to reply again when the waiter appeared bearing a plated chocolate heart.
“Our red velvet cake heart for two,” he explained, setting the plate between them. “A pre-Valentine special. And two forks, for sharing.” He positioned the utensils precisely then bowed away.
“Valentine’s Day again,” she sighed. “When everyone has a Valentine except me.”
“Uh uh uh.” He waggled his finger at her. “You aren’t complaining, are you? This year you’ll be celebrating in style. With me. We’ll show the asshole and every other jerk who doesn’t treat you right exactly what they lost.”
“We will?” She wasn’t so sure of that.
“Yeah. Not to mention how jealous everyone at the magazine will be,” he went on. “I’ll bet every woman there would give her entire wardrobe of bikini panties to be romanced by a hotshot quarterback. And I chose you. Keep that in mind.”
“But we’ll know it’s nothing but a part of my image campaign, right?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He gave her a slow seductive grin. “Then again, maybe you won’t be able to resist my incredible charms. Come on, Stace. Loosen up. We’ll have fun whatever we’re doing.” He lifted her hand, leaned across the table, and placed a kiss in the center of her palm.
As if a switch clicked on inside her, her face lit up in a smile, even though tension still ran through her body. He wanted to pull her across the table and into his lap. This tension radiating from her would not do. He needed to get her to unwind.
“You’re right. Fun. To show Kurt and all the others what they lost.”
“Right,” he repeated.
We’re going to have fun, all right. I don’t give a shit about Kurt. My campaign is all about making Stacy realize how special she is to me. And what we could have going. Maybe already do.
Her smile faded, as if she wasn’t quite sure she knew how to play this game, and his heart ached for her.
“Right now what I want is to share this red velvet heart-shaped cake with you.” She picked up one of the forks, cut off a small piece of the heart, and slid it into her mouth.
Watching her lips close over the confection and the tip of her tongue lick the residual frosting nearly gave his cock a heart attack. Then she sliced off another piece and held out the fork to him. When he slid his mouth over the utensil, he was positive he could still feel the lingering touch of her lips. The cake was rich and creamy and, for a shocking moment, he visualized rubbing it on her luscious body and slowly licking off every bit of it.
Jesus, Max! In a minute, you’ll come in your pants like a horny teenager.
She took another bite for herself, and he stared at the play of muscles in her jaw as she chewed. One tiny piece of frosting clung to her lips, tantalizing him. He reached over with his thumb to blot it then put the thumb in his mouth to suck it clean. Would her nipples taste as good as the cake, or even better? And if her pussy was as sweet as—
She glanced at him from beneath those insanely long lashes. “You aren’t eating your share. Don’t you like it?”
Oh, he wanted to eat his share all right. Only his mouth didn’t water for the dessert in front of him. The thought of how good every bit of her body would taste was what drove him crazy. He needed to do something. Now.
A thought jumped into his head. If he could m
ake it work, they’d both have an afternoon to remember. And the start of what he hoped would be the relationship he longed for.
“I have an idea,” he said slowly. “Can you be spur of the moment? Impulsive?”
She frowned. “Not usually. Why?”
“I want to take you someplace. Right now.”
“Now?” She stared at him. “I have to go back to work. Lunch was really nice, Max, only—”
“Yes, it was great. And I don’t want the afternoon to end.” He grinned at her. “Come on, Stacy. Break the mold. Be spontaneous.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You never know what you’ll find if you do.”
“Coal in my stocking for Christmas?” she asked.
“Maybe a whole new view of life. Let’s get out of here.” He put his napkin on the table and signaled for the waiter.
Stacy blinked at him, startled. “What? Wait. We didn’t finish our dessert.”
“We can take it with us.” He gave orders to the waiter to box it up as he handed over his credit card. “You might find a surprise you enjoy even more.”
He forced himself to take a deep breath before he leaped across the table and ripped off her clothes. Some things should be done in private. “Call your office and tell them you won’t be back for the rest of the day.”
She frowned at him. “Max, what’s going on here? What crazy idea are you cooking up?”
“I’m cooking up fun. You know, crazy can be fun. Spontaneous can be fun.” He winked. “And I think it’s time you had some fun.”
“Doing what?”
“You’ll see. Call your office,” he urged. “Go on. Live dangerously.”
“I’m probably nuts, but okay.” She picked up her phone. “Be right back.”
If only he didn’t worry so much that his plan would backfire on him. As she headed for the restroom, he took out his cell and punched in a number.
“Are you crazy?” his friend Arnie asked. “I need more than five minutes to prepare for what you want.”
“Pretend I’m helping you prepare for the Valentine’s Day thing you always do. Don’t you need some practice?”
“No,” Arnie snapped. “Not as long as we’ve been doing it.”
