Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2)

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Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2) Page 10

by Samatha Harris


  I groaned and reached for her hands, pinning them beside her head, and pushed her down into the bed. Her eyes went wide in excitement. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to just give in and thrust my painfully hard cock deep inside her and stay there for the next week at least.

  I swallowed. “If you get into that shower with me, we will never get to work, and I have a meeting at ten,” I said. I gave her a quick kiss and jumped out of the bed before she could tempt me anymore.

  I took a very quick, very cold shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. Then I grabbed my toothbrush and leaned against the door frame, watching her get dressed and tuck her underwear into her purse.

  She ran her fingers through her short dark hair, smoothing down the bedhead. She still looked a little rumpled, but it was a good look for her. Hair slightly a mess, creamy skin still flushed from the night before. I could get used to waking up like this.

  She stopped and turned to me, her delicate hand propped up on her hip. “What?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed but unable to hide her smile.

  I smiled. “Just enjoying the view.”

  She giggled and made her way toward me. She slid her hand slowly up my chest, threading her fingers into the soft hair on my neck. She gave me a slow, sweet kiss good-bye and turned to leave.

  I smacked her ass and she yelped and narrowed her eyes, the smile never leaving her face. “I’ll call you later,” I said with a wink. She just shook her head and headed for the door.

  ***

  I was ten minutes late to work, but it was worth it. I headed to my cubicle, dropped into my chair, and turned on my computer. I leaned back, whistling to myself as I waited for the computer to load.

  Drew was hunched over his desk on the other side of the partition, squinting as he looked over his computer screen. “You’re late,” he said without looking up.

  “Yes, I am,” I said with a wide grin and a little too much cheer.

  Drew raised his head and looked at me raising an eyebrow. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “So?”

  “So what’s with the sunny disposition?”

  “What can I say? I’m a happy guy.”

  “Not this happy. You’re practically skipping.”

  I shrugged, keeping my eyes on my computer screen and the shit-eating grin on my face.

  I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. I turned, and sure enough he was staring at me, his eyebrow raised as he waited for an explanation.

  “What?”

  “Who did you do?” Drew asked.

  “Don’t you mean what did I do?”

  Drew shook his head. “Nope, had it right the first time.”

  I laughed and turned back to my computer. I felt something bounce off the back of my head and hit the floor beside me with a thud. “What the hell, man?” I said, picking up the stress ball he threw and chucking it back at him.

  Drew caught it easily in one hand and leaned back in his chair. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question?”

  “Come on, man. Spill.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bullshit,” he said.

  I laughed, and Drew got to his feet. He stood over me, his arms folded across his chest. It wasn’t like I was trying to hide anything, but fucking with Drew was just too much fun to resist. “I had a good night,” I said with a shrug.

  Drew rolled his eyes and clapped me on the back. “I figured that much, dipshit.”

  “Madison came over.”

  “Wait. Madison? Liam’s sister, Madison?” he asked. “Did you…?”

  “No, asshole. I didn’t fuck her,” I said, finishing his thought. It wasn’t exactly a lie, more like stretching the truth. He didn’t need details.

  “Dude.” Drew sighed and slumped down onto the edge of my desk.

  “What?”

  “She’s Liam’s sister.”

  “And?” I asked slowly, not quite seeing the problem.

  “And you ever hear the expression don’t shit where you eat.”

  “What?”

  Drew stood up straight and narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t think it’s a bad idea to get involved with Liam’s sister? After the Bridget thing, Papa Jack almost had your balls. What do you think Liam’s going to do if something goes wrong with his sister?”

  “Why do you assume something will go wrong?”

  He sighed and dropped his head back, his hands gripping his hips. “You haven’t exactly had the best luck with women.”

  I dropped my head, my jaw tight. “She’s different,” I said. I ran a hand down my face as tension filled my shoulders. Fuck, this day had started out so great and gone to shit so quickly. “I can’t explain it, but she is.”

  Drew watched me. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it quickly, deciding against it. He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at me. “You really like her, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “Look, man. I’m just…concerned. If this goes bad, there’s a lot of potential fallout,” he said. “For all of us.”

  “I get it, okay.” The asshole had a point. If I fucked this up, Liam would no doubt be out for blood, but after last night there was no way I would be able to walk away.

  The image of her shy smile and that look of just pure joy that lit up her face this morning popped into my head, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

  Drew burst out laughing and I frowned, watching as he took two large steps and snatched his phone off of his desk. His thumbs flew across the screen as he chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Texting Red.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Cause you got it bad, man.” He chuckled.

  “What?” I lunged for the phone, but he was faster. He dodged me and held the phone just out of my reach.

  The phone buzzed in his hand, and he opened the message and laughed.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “She said don’t shit where you eat.”

  “You two were made for each other,” I said, laughing as I turned back to my computer.

  ***

  I was halfway through our weekly staff meeting and doing my best to tune out my production manager, Steve, as he droned on. I scrolled through my emails for a while, then pulled up my text messages, smiling to myself when I saw Madison’s name.

  I opened a new message.

  Sean: I miss you. When can I see you again?

  I reread it and quickly deleted it. Shit, I sounded like some clingy teenager. She said she wanted casual, but last night felt anything but casual. Still, I didn’t want to freak her out.

  I took a deep breath and started typing again.

  Sean: Wanna hook up tonight?

  I jabbed at the delete button, shaking my head as I cleared the screen again.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Drew had a point, the fucker. The couple relationships I’ve had in the last few years have been complete disasters. There was Kerri, my college girlfriend, and Alex’s college roommate, who cheated on me with half the lacrosse team. After her, I dated a girl named Stacy, at least I think that was her name; she was a pathological liar. Nothing that girl ever said was true, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she gave me a fake name as well. Then there was Kennedy. She was insanely jealous. She lost it one night at trivia, accusing me of fucking Alex because I’d offered her my seat.

  Most of the women I’ve dated made me out to be the asshole who couldn’t make it work. Somehow I was always the one who was judged and found wanting. It seemed to be a recurring theme in my life, disappointing the people who were closest to me. Alex always said that with everything I’ve been through, it’s a miracle I can get up in the morning. I told her the same thing Gran has told me over and over again. I have the power to choose how to live my life, and despite all the bullshit, I choose t
o be happy.

  So yeah, I may not be the best judge of character when it comes to women, but Madison, she’s different. Being with her felt natural, and fuck, she turned me on more than any woman I have ever been with. Hell, just thinking about her made me smile. It was a reflex, an instinct.

  I looked back down at my phone and started typing.

  Sean: Is it against the rules to miss you?

  I hesitated for a second then hit send, staring at the tiny screen as I waited for her response.

  Three little dots popped up on the screen, letting me know she was typing.

  Madison: I said casual not regulated, so no.

  My smile widened. Beautiful, smart, and fluent in sarcasm, sexiest combination in the world.

  Sean: Good. Cause I’ve been thinking about you all morning.

  Madison: Really? What have you been thinking?

  She was flirting. Flirting was good. So I kicked it up a notch.

  Sean: How beautiful you are.

  Sean: How sexy.

  I waited as the three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again.

  Madison: Stop.

  Sean: Are you blushing Madison?

  I could practically see her blushing as she stared at her phone. Just the thought of that adorable pink tint in her cheeks had me discreetly adjusting my hardening cock under the table as Steve discussed some upcoming projects.

  Sean: I like to make you blush.

  Sean: Make you laugh.

  Sean: Make you smile.

  Madison: Well you are certainly good at it.

  Sean: Really? What else am I good at?

  “Sean?” My head snapped up from my phone. Steve, along with everyone else in the room, was focused on me. Shit! What did he say?

  I swallowed thickly and cleared my throat.

  “Sorry?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and shifting nervously in my seat.

  Steve shifted his weight and crossed his arms across his chest. “I asked how the Maggie Clifton cover was coming.”

  “Oh. Great. Way ahead of schedule. You’ll have it by the end of the week.”

  Steve stood up straighter, his face brightening. Steve was a stickler for deadlines. Nothing pleased him more than being ahead of schedule.

  Appeased, Steve moved on and I went back to my phone.

  Madison: Can’t discuss it right now. I’m on a conference call with my boss.

  Sean: And I’m in a staff meeting with a hard on cause I can’t stop thinking about the way you taste.

  Madison: Will you stop? I’m beet red. My assistant will think I’m having a heart attack.

  Sean: I told you, I like making you blush.

  After a few minutes she still hadn’t responded, so I changed my approach.

  Sean: When can I see you again?

  I smiled when the dots appeared, signaling her response.

  Madison: Tonight?

  Shit. It was poker night. We’re supposed to be throwing around ideas for Drew’s bachelor party.

  Sean: I wish I could, but its poker night and I have to be there.

  Sean: Free tomorrow?

  Madison: Sure. What did you have in mind?

  Sean: I have a few ideas.

  I had nothing.

  Steve dismissed the meeting and everyone quickly gathered their stuff and headed out of the conference room. I looked at Drew, who just shook his head.

  “What?” I asked. I’m sure he’d been reading every text over my shoulder, the nosy bastard.

  He laughed. “You are so fucked,” he said, dropping a hand to my shoulder before heading out the door.

  Chapter 11

  Madison

  After work, I met Margot for drinks at The Lounge, one of those super trendy bars that called their bartenders mixologists and served vodka infused with jasmine and honeysuckle. It was a little pretentious for me, but Margot was all about the hip new places. Margot believed that to stay young you must stay current. When someone dared to ask her age, she would smile and simply say that she, like Tiffany’s, was timeless.

  Margot was nowhere to be seen, so I took a seat at the bar and flagged down a bartender—excuse me, the mixologist. You know what? If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it’s probably a duck, so as far as I’m concerned he was a bartender.

  I ordered a vodka martini and took a look around the bar. The place was pretty empty, but it was still early. Places like this don’t usually pick up until after nine.

  Margot made her way toward me. She dropped her clutch on the bar and snapped her fingers to get the bartender’s attention. When he looked up, she pointed to my drink and he nodded.

  The bartender set a martini down on the bar and Margot took one sip then jumped right into round one of twenty questions.

  “So, tell me about the fantastic cougar sex with that tall glass of sexy,” she said, wiggling a little on her barstool.

  “It was not cougar sex. He’s only thirteen years younger than me. That does not make me a cougar,” I said in protest.

  “Oh, so now it’s only thirteen years! Last week you were old enough to be his mother,” she said, that smug tone creeping into her voice.

  I smacked her arm as she laughed. She had a point, and I hated the fact that she was right. There’s nothing worse than when Margot was right. You will never live it down. The cougar thing did bother me, though.

  “You don’t think people will call me a cougar, do you?” I asked her, suddenly very freaked out about the whole situation.

  “Maybe, but who cares. The ones who do are just jealous of the delicious piece of man candy on your arm anyway. Screw em’. Then go home and screw him,” she said with a wink.

  My cheeks instantly flamed. Margot had no problem speaking her mind, but I was brought up in a house where you did not talk about such things. My mother’s advice about sex was pretty close to, ‘Close your eyes and think of England.’

  “Spill,” Margot said, downing the rest of her drink. “I want every delicious detail.”

  I hesitated, but Margot raised her perfectly plucked eyebrow, letting me know she was not backing down.

  “Well,” I started. “We didn’t actually have sex.”

  “What? You said…”

  “No, I didn’t. I never said we had sex.”

  “But you did spend the night?” she asked, snapping her fingers at the bartender again, who was already way past annoyed with her snapping at him. I would have to leave him a large tip later.

  “There were other things that happened,” I said quietly, looking down in my drink.

  Margot’s eyes lit up, and she signaled for me to continue. I wasn’t really sure how much I should tell her, but I did want her opinion on something.

  “Well, he focused a lot on me,” I said, hoping that she would pick up on the implication so I didn’t have to go too much into detail.

  “Really?” Her approval was clear in her voice.

  “It was amazing. I didn’t know it could feel like that, but one thing that was kind of weird. He didn’t expect me to reciprocate.”

  “They always say that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “No. I mean, he wouldn’t let me,” I said. “I tried twice and both times he stopped me and said that he wanted it to be about me.”

  Margot almost spit her drink out. “You mean to tell me that he got you off with just foreplay and didn’t want you to return the favor?”

  I nodded.

  “How many times?”

  “I told you, I tried twice.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “How many times did you come?”

  I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to our conversation then held up three fingers.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Margot said, her voice catching the attention of most of the people in the bar. I was mortified, and I tried to shush her, but she was not having it. “Three? Seriously?”

  “Yes. Margot, please lower your voice,” I hissed through my clenched tee
th, nervously looking around the bar to see if people were still looking at us.

  “And he got nothing out of it? Not a hand job or even a little over the clothes dry humping?”

  “Jesus, Margot.” I covered my face with my hands, trying to hide the deep shade of red.

  She was quiet for a minute, and I lowered my hands. She seemed lost in thought, twirling a finger along the outside of her glass.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I should have given him my number instead,” she said, and I smacked her knee.

  “So I shouldn’t be worried that he didn’t want me to…you know?”

  “Are you kidding? You found like the holy grail of men. Gorgeous, sweet, successful, and he gives you multiple orgasms without asking for anything in return. Screw girl code. When you’re done with him, I want a turn.”

  “Margot!”

  “Oh, come on. I’m kidding, mostly. Don’t worry about this too much, okay. Just enjoy your little boy toy,” she said. “When are you seeing him again?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Well, be sure to hydrate and stretch before you go over there. If foreplay was that intense, then you may not survive the sex.”

  ***

  Friday morning at the office was insane. I was buried in contracts and projection charts in preparation for my meeting with the developer. This deal could make or break my career. Not to mention help thousands of families be able to afford almost completely self-sustaining homes.

  After lunch, Jeremy came in and dropped something heavy on my desk, but I was so focused on my screen that I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound.

  “Jesus,” I said, looking up to face him. He was partly hidden behind a large vase of sunflowers. I love sunflowers. They’re what I imagine happiness to look like.

 

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