by Max Monroe
I loved seeing this side of him. The all-business, Armani-suited CEO getting messy and wild, with me. His reserved side morphing into a man possessed by passion and desire. I felt possessive, wanting to be the only woman who could affect him this way.
I should’ve been freaked out over the idea that someone could walk into his office and find us in this precarious position, but all I could think about was wanting him to push himself against me, harder, rougher. Good God, I wanted more. So much more.
His lips moved from my ear to my jaw to the sensitive, toe-curling spot on my neck. His teeth just barely scraped at the pulsing vein, and a shiver rolled down my spine. If he kept this up, I’d end up doing something I shouldn’t. Like unzip his pants and offer up my V-card as tribute.
Get it together, Georgia.
“Kline?”
“Don’t worry,” he whispered against my skin. “I won’t let this get out of hand.”
But he didn’t disentangle us. No. He did the complete opposite.
He kissed me hard, delving deep enough to brand me, while our tongues tangled in an inferno of want and need and crazy desire.
Sliding a hand up my blouse and underneath my bra, Kline brushed his thumb across my nipple.
I moaned into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he breathed, still cupping my breast.
I sucked at his tongue as my hips circled his, savoring the feel of his cock pressed against my pussy. Even though we were both fully clothed, I could practically feel every inch of him. And hot damn, there were a lot of inches.
He pulsed upward and my pussy clenched in empty agony.
“Oh, yes, yes, Kline, yes,” I whispered, my head falling back.
Our ragged, wanton breaths were the only sounds filling the four walls of his office.
“You’re driving me wild.” His hand covered mine, moving it down to cup him through his slacks. “I want you so fucking bad.”
Self-control was nowhere in sight as I went for his belt, fingers sliding against the cold metal of his buckle. The only thing that mattered was touching him. More of him. All of him. I wanted Kline hard and ready and bared in my needy hands.
“Mr. Brooks, your four o’clock is here. Should I send him back?” Pam’s voice echoed from the intercom.
We froze, startled by the interruption.
“Christ,” Kline muttered, his eyes clenched and forehead pressing against mine.
My cheeks turned a terrifying shade of red once realization set in. “I-I should probably leave,” I stuttered, attempting to un-plaster myself from him.
“Hold on.” He gripped my hips, stopping my momentum. He leaned forward, one finger pressing the intercom to respond. “Just give me a minute, Pam. I’m just finishing up signing some contracts for Georgia.”
I was thankful he still had enough brainpower to think of an excuse for me to be in here. Telling Pam that he needed a minute to remove his Director of Marketing from his dick wasn’t the best scenario for either of us.
“Hey,” he whispered, cupping my cheeks. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“Are you sure?” He smirked. “Because that deer-in-headlights look you’ve got going on says otherwise.”
I glared. “That’s not the look I’m giving you.”
He mimicked my wide-eyed stare before his face morphed into a teasing grin.
“Excuse me for being a little freaked out that someone could have walked in and found us going at each other like a couple of horny teenagers. Speaking of which, you should probably let me up.”
He massaged my ass. “Only if you promise to let me finish dessert later.”
Dear God, what was he trying to do to me?
I couldn’t hide my smile. “You’re trouble. Big fat fucking trouble.” I shoved at his chest and proceeded to remove myself from his lap. Straightening my clothes, I glanced down at his disheveled attire. “And you look ridiculous. Like some woman was in here mauling you with red lipstick.” My crimson lips were branded across his face and neck.
It was absurd, but mostly just fuck-hot.
He stood, flashing that sexy smirk of his while I removed my lipstick smudges with my fingers. I adjusted his tie and patted him on the chest. “Don’t work too hard, Mr. Brooks.”
As I turned for the door, he spanked my ass, earning a small squeal of approval from my traitorous lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save up my energy for later, Ms. Cummings.”
Outrageously sexy bastard. I was certain he’d be the death of me.
“Wait.” He grabbed me before I could take another step, pulling me toward him, my back against his chest. His breath was warm on my neck. “I’m not letting you out of this office until you agree to another date. A weekend date.”
“Like a whole weekend?”
“In the Hamptons, with me.”
“You have a place in the Hamptons?” I asked, then realized what a stupid question that was. Kline wasn’t a flashy kind of man, but he had made more money from one business deal than most people make in a lifetime. Hell, he could quit working today and would be set for the rest of his life.
“Yeah, baby.” He kissed my neck, teasing the sensitive skin with his lips. “So, you’ll go?”
I turned in his arms, gazing up at him. He was business Kline laced with a little messy wildness from our earlier tryst behind his desk. The adorable grin cresting his mouth had me smiling in return. “What do I get out of it?” I teased.
His grin grew wider. “You want terms and conditions for a weekend getaway I’m asking you to join me on?”
I nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“You’re like a little shark when it comes to business.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, chuckling against my skin. “I’ll make sure you have a good time. So good you’ll be doing a reenactment of my bedroom…and the pool. Who knows, maybe it’ll be like both combined.”
“Draft the contract, Brooks, but remember, I’m holding you to these terms.”
“Wonderful doing business with you, Cummings.”
When the GPS told me I was two blocks away from Georgia’s apartment on Friday night, I pulled over and put the car in park. My phone had just buzzed in the cupholder with a message, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to answer it once I picked her up. Ignoring the blinding red light on my mail icon, I swung my thumb directly over it before landing on the TapNext app.
TAPRoseNEXT (7:04PM): HE’S GOING TO BE HERE ANY MINUTE, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE. CALM ME DOWN BEFORE HE TAKES ONE LOOK AT ME AND RUNS IN THE OTHER DIRECTION.
A smile overwhelmed me as my chuckles bounced around the echoey interior of an otherwise empty car. She was so fucking cute, I could hardly stand it.
BAD_Ruck (7:06PM): Calm down, sweetheart. Let’s start slowly by eliminating the shouty capitals.
TAPRoseNEXT (7:07PM): FUCKING FUCK FUCKERS. Okay. FUCK. Okay, I think I’m good now. Move on to step 2 (the coddling).
I bit my lip and shook my head, smiling like a crazy person.
BAD_Ruck (7:08PM): Good job. Also, creative swearing.
TAPRoseNEXT (7:08PM): The calm is wearing off, Ruck.
BAD_Ruck (7:09PM): Okay, okay. Coddling. Got it. This guy is still talking to you after spending all that time with you last weekend and invited you on a weekend away, right? He sounds smart enough to appreciate a little nervous energy. Everything is going to be fine.
Okay, guys. I know. I can feel you judging me. But let’s talk this over.
I knew not telling her that I knew she was Rose, and that I was Ruck, was bad form.
I did, really.
It’d been a few days since I found out, and I should have told her immediately.
But God, as twisted as it was, I was having too much fun. Georgia was different with me online, no pretense or fear of saying something to her boss that he couldn’t unhear, the safety net of anonymity weaving the protective web that it did for a lot of people.
As ea
sy as it was to be someone else online, it was equally easy to be yourself, no expectations or trepidation blinding the true artwork underneath. Knowing Georgia in both places, without her knowing that I knew, was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. She was the same yet different—honest and open and unafraid of recrimination. She wasn’t afraid to send me messages about freaking the fuck out. She was just her, and I liked getting to be on the receiving end of twice the interaction. She was still scared to wear out her welcome with Kline Brooks. I couldn’t fucking welcome her enough. This gave us the best of both worlds.
I even found myself sending her more goddamn messages as Ruck, just to be able to enjoy what she might say. I pushed the envelope, trying to get her even more comfortable with me, even knowing that, in her mind, she was splitting her affection between two men.
It was fucked, but I knew if she could forgive me, her actions wouldn’t be an issue in the slightest. Love, lust, and attraction were base instincts. They were simple and finite and somehow still infinitely complicated. She liked Ruck because he was another dimension of me.
So as much as it didn’t make sense rationally, it made heart-sense. Call me a hopeless romantic, or maybe a fool, but to me, that was all that mattered.
Stowing my phone in the console, I put the car back into drive and pulled away from the curb. Cute brick-front brownstone buildings with iron-railed stairs lined the sides of each street, mature trees casting their shadows every fifty feet. Dusk threatened as the sun made its descent, already hiding behind buildings despite its place just above the horizon.
And my heart? Well, it just about beat right out of my chest.
Georgia sat on the stoop of her building with her arms crossed on her knees and her suitcase at her feet as I pulled up.
Her hair was wild and unkempt, curling just enough that I knew she’d probably showered and left it to dry on its own. Clothed in jeans and a simple sweatshirt with just barely a trace of makeup on her face, she was still the most beautiful thing I’d seen in just about forever.
Eager to put her racing mind at ease, I pushed the gearshift into park, turned the key to off, and jumped out to round the car before she even made it to her feet.
Adorable and wondering at my hurry, her teeth dug into the skin of her lip and her head tilted just slightly to the side.
I watched her as she watched me, a fire lighting her gorgeous blue eyes just as I pulled her directly into my arms and sealed my lips to hers.
“Mmm,” she moaned, melting into my frame and wrapping hers around my shoulders. I licked at her tongue and her lips, sucking the taste of her into me as I slowly released.
“Kline,” she whispered, overwhelmed.
My eyes shut on their own and my forehead met hers, and I breathed her in until my lungs burned only a little.
“I missed you.”
She smiled and pushed her nose deeper along the side of mine. Her voice was barely audible.
“You saw me today at work.”
I shook our heads together, lips and noses and foreheads touching the whole time.
“Not like this.”
“No,” she agreed softly, placing one simple kiss to the corner of my mouth before pulling away. “You’re right. It wasn’t like this.”
I took a step down to grab her suitcase but kept a squeezing hand on her hip.
“You ready?”
Her face was alive and at ease, excitement lining the corners of every angle as she nodded. I couldn’t help but return the sentiment.
“Mount up.”
She raised a brow, but I just winked, moving to the back of the SUV and lifting the hatch to load her bag.
Looking it over from back to front, she seemed to notice the car for the very first time.
“This is your car?”
I looked at her in question.
She rolled her eyes at my implication, since I was very much accessing said car and the likelihood that I had stolen it was remarkably low.
“This is my rental car. I don’t own a car.”
“You don’t own a car?” She was incredulous.
“Baby.” I laughed, biting my lip to summon my patience. “I live in Manhattan. For business, I have a driver because you’re not the only one with the ability to be late. For everything else, I walk, take a taxi, or ride the subway. If I need to go anywhere outside of the city, I rent one. Simple as that.”
“But this is a Ford Edge,” she pushed stubbornly, still not getting it.
“I know,” I joked. “I sprung for the SUV since I’ve yet to get a handle on your luggage habits.” I jerked my head to the back and slammed the hatch. “Just the one bag. I’ll stick to midsize from now on.”
“Kline.”
Rounding the rear, I walked back to her, leaned my back into the car, grabbed her hips, and pulled her body into mine.
“Baby. I can see you’re struggling to get this, but I swear it’d make sense if you met Bob.”
“Bob? Of Bob and Maureen?”
I nodded. “The one and only. Bob Brooks, my dad and the biggest influence on my life.”
Wrinkles formed on her nose as she grinned, so I kissed it.
Pushing the wild blonde hair back from her face, I trailed one finger along her jaw and then dropped it.
“Let go of who you thought I was…who you think I’m supposed to be. Be here with me now.” I grabbed her hand and pushed it to my chest. “Feel me.”
Her free hand shot to my jaw and stroked it, eyes bright in reaction to my so-obviously-messy emotion.
“I promise, this is who I am, and if you let go of what you thought you knew, you’ll get it. You’ll get me. I know it.”
I sounded desperate because I was. Desperate for her to be the woman I thought she could be. Desperate for her to let go of the billionaire experience and just be with Kline.
“Okay.” She sealed her lips to mine and the tip of her tongue ventured into my mouth briefly. An answering tingle ran down the length of my spine. “I’ll let go of it all.” She pecked me on the mouth once more. “Promise.”
“Good,” I said before slamming my mouth to hers again. A slow groan rumbled in my chest a second later at the feel of her soft tongue. With effort, I forced myself to extract my mouth from hers. “Plus, nothing humbles a man more than cleaning Walter’s litter box. I swear the little fuck flicks shit outside of it on purpose.”
She shook her head with a dreamy smile and bit her lip to stop herself from making fun of me. It didn’t matter what I did. She’d forever be on Walter’s side of this war.
“Now get your ass in the Ford Edge, and let’s get out of here. I’m ready to have you all to myself for the weekend.”
“Yes, sir!” she joked with a salute before reaching for the door. I wrapped an arm around her waist at the last second, swooping her off her feet and swinging her around to put me between her and the car.
She bristled, but the icy edges of her attitude melted as soon as I winked and popped open the handle myself. “What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t open the door for you?”
“The kind that fill the streets of Manhattan.”
I just shook my head and smiled, waiting patiently for her to climb in.
“Right. You’re not those guys.”
“Ahh,” I teased. “Now she’s getting it.”
She grabbed the inside handle of the door and pulled it closed as she spoke. “Get in the car, Kline.”
The door slammed in my face and I laughed. “Yes, ma’am,” I mouthed through the window, rounding the hood and climbing in.
“To the Hamptons!” she shouted.
I shook my head, fired up the engine, and pulled away from the curb with an enormous smile on my face.
An hour and a half or so into the drive, she started to fidget. And I don’t mean a little movement here or there. I’m talking, for a few seconds, I feared she was having a seizure.
“What’s up, Benny?”
“What?” Her gaze jerked towa
rd me in surprise.
I glanced from the road to her and back again. “You literally look like your skin is in the process of attacking you. What’s up?”
“I just… I have to tell you something.”
Her tone was serious, and her nerves were beginning to eat her alive. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I had a feeling I knew what was coming. Our intimacy had been on a steady advance from the moment we’d collided, melding together and racing for the finish line like one entity. We were on our way to a weekend alone, and the relevance of her sexual inexperience had to be beating her over the head with a bat at this point.
“So tell me, baby,” I coaxed gently, trying to walk the line of someone who didn’t know what was coming and someone who absolutely did, having heard it twice already, and was prepared to answer in a calm, respectful manner. If it hadn’t been for the blunt conversation Ruck had had with Rose, Kline would have never realized that Georgie had already told him in a Benadryl-fueled rant.
Christopher Columbus her pussy prideland.
God, I’d laughed so hard about that when I realized how brilliant it had been.
“I’m…like…a…” incoherent mumbling “…virgin!”
I bit my lip and considered her words. I knew what she was trying to say, but a little figurative ice breaking never hurt anyone. Literal ice breaking—well, that hurt a lot of people.
“You want to listen to Madonna?”
I reached for my phone like I was going to search for the song.
“No,” she huffed, adorably frustrated at having to gather the nerve to say it again. I didn’t blame her. This was the fourth time in about twice as many days that she was admitting it to someone. That I knew of, anyway.
Turning in her seat, she forced herself to face me head-on. Her eyes sought mine, and I hated that because I was driving, I couldn’t fully give them to her. I had no right to it, but that didn’t stop me from being proud of her confidence.
When I found a straight stretch of road and glanced her way for more than a quick, passing beat, she spoke. “I’m a virgin.” Crisp and calm, her voice managed to be matter-of-fact and silky all at once.
