King of Wall Street: a sexy, standalone, contemporary romance

by Louise Bay

He didn’t respond, just sat down at the opposite end, pulling my legs over his.

  “You choked today,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.

  “Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious. If you’re here to make me feel worse, you can leave right now.”

  He acted as if he hadn’t heard me, stroking up the leg I had resting on his thigh. “You know Michael Jordan?”

  Now he’s going to talk about sports? Great. Just what I needed.

  I nodded.

  “Greatest basketball player of all time, right? A consummate winner.”

  “Er … yes.” Where the hell was he going with this?

  “Well something he said was the best business advice I’ve ever received. It went like this, ‘I’ve missed more than nine-thousand shots in my career and I’ve lost almost three-hundred games.’” He smoothed his hands up and down my legs “‘Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. ‘I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.’”

  He paused and we stared at each other.

  “We all fuck up, Harper. We all choke. It’s how we get better.”

  I sighed and skimmed the top of the water with my palms. “Yeah, well, I’m not a basketball player,” I muttered.

  “Of course you are. We all are. You didn’t come out of the womb ready. How many times did you fall over before you learned to walk? You can’t give up when you fail the first time.” He took my foot, pressing his thumbs into my sole. “The problem is there comes a point in life when you haven’t fucked up in a while. You get good at passing exams, you graduate, you get a job. Everything is great. But it’s a false sense of security because if you’re going to learn and grow, fucking up is inevitable.”

  “So if you’re saying my choking was always going to happen, why did you take me to the presentation?” I tried to pull my leg away but he held on tight.

  “I might be good but I’m not a fucking psychic. No one knows when they’re going to fail, just that they will at some point.”

  The pressure in my chest started to lift. He was right. Of course he was. “But I hate it.”

  “I’m sure Michael Jordan hated missing game-winning shots.”

  I didn’t say anything. I was new and inexperienced and I’d let it show.

  “Harper, it’s why I wanted you to present to Goldman’s. I didn’t want you to choke in front of your father.”

  Had he really been trying to protect me? Warmth for him spread through my body. I wasn’t used to someone having my back in such an obvious way. Not a man anyway. And I liked it. More than liked it.

  I pulled my foot from his hands and moved to straddle him. “You always say exactly the right thing.”

  He chuckled. “I think my daughter would disagree.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him briefly on his jaw. “You look sexy wet,” I said.

  “You look sexy all the time,” he replied.

  “Exactly the right thing,” I whispered and I pressed my lips to his. His tongue reached for mine.

  He shifted, pushing me away. “Come on. Let’s get out. I want to fuck you without being interrupted by neighbors complaining about water coming through their ceiling.”

  Well, I couldn’t argue with that logic, either.

  He held me tight as he walked me out of the bathroom and pushed me onto the bed, collapsing beside me. He opened my towel as if inspecting me for clues, his eyes raking over my naked body. “You’re beautiful,” he said, squinting as he said it, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

  A rush of panic hit me in the chest as I pushed my fingers through his hair. I couldn’t imagine not having this, not having him, to talk to, to kiss, to fuck. What would I do when this was all over?

  “I can’t wait for you to come to Connecticut,” he said. “I want to have you in my bed for a change.” He dipped his head and circled one of my nipples with his tongue.

  The pulling sensation in my stomach chased away the panic and I shifted my hips sideways, tangling my legs with his. His towel had fallen open and I reached for his hard, heavy cock. I shivered as I began to pump my fist up and down. He hissed through his teeth, throwing his head back.

  “I’ve been thinking about having your hands wrapped around my dick all day,” he said. “You’re so utterly distracting.”

  “And infuriating, remember?”

  He reached for my pussy, and I flicked my hips up to meet his fingers, always eager for his touch. “That’s part of the distraction, part of the attraction.” His fingers dipped inside me, his thumb pressing against my clitoris, the frustration and embarrassment of the day dissolving under his touch.

  “Do you think about me?” he asked, slowly thrusting into my hands. “You think about this?” He grazed my shoulder with his teeth, then bit down, causing me to moan.

  “All the time.” It was true. The only way I survived in the office was by avoiding him, but that was like trying to avoid gravity. My pull toward him was inevitable.

  I released his dick and he began to slide it over my sex, teasing, promising. I reached behind me for the nightstand, but he took over my search for a condom.

  “I’ve got to be inside you right now,” he whispered. “I’ve been wanting you all day.” He paused in his rhythm and I whimpered. “I know, Harper, I need it, too.”

  I’d never been so sexually vulnerable with a man, never offered up so much of myself. But with him it wasn’t a choice; it was mandatory. There was no other way I could be.

  He slipped his palms under my ass and pulled me toward him as he sat back onto his knees, the warmth of his eyes replacing his body heat.

  His gaze bore into me as he thrust. He didn’t take his time, but he didn’t rush, either, just moved into me with a strong, confident force that nearly had me climaxing—the feeling of being totally consumed by him mentally and physically pushing me to the brink, threatening to tip me over the edge.

  “Max,” I called out.

  “I’m here. I’m fucking you, needing you, owning you.”

  He was right. He did own me.

  I lifted my knees and he growled, “I’m going to fuck you over my desk one day while you look out over Manhattan, your skirt around your waist, your ass in the air.” He thrust again. “I want you in my bed in Connecticut, on the stairs, against the lobby wall of this apartment. I want you in every cab we ever share together. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”

  His words drifted over me like sunshine, heating my skin, ridding my brain of shadows.

  I wanted him so badly it was almost terrifying. Before fear could take hold, pleasure pushed out from my belly and down my limbs. “Max,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into his skin.

  “I know. I know. I know.” He knew me, understood everything.

  In that moment we were joined; we were connected; we were inseparable.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Max

  “Good morning,” I said as I passed Donna’s desk. She looked at me suspiciously, probably because I was grinning.

  “You okay?” she asked from the doorway as I shrugged off my jacket.

  I looked up at her, still smiling. “I’m excellent, how are you?” Last night with Harper had been great. Sex had always been an important part of my routine, of my life, but with Harper there was a level of connection I’d never had with anyone else. Perhaps it was the reason my family continually bugged me about finding a girlfriend. Maybe they realized relationships could be this good, this easy with someone. Harper made me laugh, got me hot, and drove me crazy all within a ten-second window. I couldn’t get enough of her.

  “I’m okay, thanks. A little concerned the body snatchers have taken over my boss, but hey, we’re in Manhattan, so it’s to be expected.”

  “You’re too young to be so cynical, Donna,” I replied.

  “Okay, now you’re really starting to freak me out. Can I get you a coffee? Maybe that will kick you back into a normal gear,” she sai
d as her phone rang. “Be right back,” she said, then closed the door.

  I sat down and spun my chair around, facing out into the city. I was about to land JD Stanley, my personal Everest. Amanda was happy and healthy. I was fucking the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. No, we were doing more than fucking. Were we dating? I turned back to my desk. Maybe when she came up to Connecticut we should have a conversation about what we were doing. I wanted her to meet Scarlett and Violet properly—they could come over for drinks that evening, but I wanted her to myself when Amanda left for the dance. Maybe brunch the next morning would be better. I hoped Harper planned to stay over. Once I had her in my house, I knew I’d find it hard to let her leave.

  I pressed the speaker button when Donna buzzed my phone. “Charles Jayne on line one.”

  Puzzled, I picked up the receiver. Lunch had gone well. I had everything I needed and we were on track to nail our pitch next week. I hoped he wasn’t going to try to cancel on me.

  “Max King. How can I help?”

  “I want to talk to you about the presentation next week.”

  Shit, he was going to cancel. I sat back in my chair. I wouldn’t let him hear I was rattled. “Yes, sir, we’re looking forward to it. Harper’s been doing some excellent work. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.”

  “It’s Harper’s involvement that I want to talk to you about.”

  I gripped the phone tighter. “I’m listening,” I replied, my tone a little more terse than before.

  “I like to keep my work life and my personal life separate,” Charles began. That had been my policy before Harper smudged the lines between the two. I still believed it was a good policy. Harper was just someone I couldn’t resist. But Charles had employed his sons in the business, so what he was saying didn’t make much sense.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for Harper to work on the JD Stanley account. You understand?”

  I pushed my chair away from my desk. “I’m not sure I do,” I replied.

  “I don’t want anyone to think that a decision I make on King & Associates has anything to do with Harper. Business is business.”

  “But I want to give you our best people and—”

  “It’s entirely up to you,” he said. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. But if you’re going to pitch next week, I don’t want Harper on the team.”

  Shit. I mean, I got it. And I thought I’d feel the same way. I wasn’t sure Harper would be so understanding. But he was a potential client, one I was desperate to land. “Of course, sir, it’s entirely up to you what team you want to work with.”

  “I’m pleased you understand. I’m looking forward to what you have to say.”

  I hung up and slumped back in my chair. Should I have said no? How would I tell Harper? I guess I could pull out? But this was the opportunity I’d been waiting for and Harper knew that. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? This wasn’t personal. It was business.

  Crap. I stood and grabbed my jacket. I needed some fresh air and common sense. “I’m going to Joey’s for a coffee,” I told Donna as I headed toward the elevators.

  “Everything okay?” she called after me. I couldn’t reply.

  Harper would understand. In fact, she might be relieved. She could take some time, build up her confidence after the way she’d choked at Goldman’s.

  But something told me she wasn’t going to think like that. This might be business to me, but it was very personal to Harper.

  It was as if Charles Jayne had thrown a grenade, and I was left bracing myself for the explosion but hoping it was a dud.

  Three … two … one.

  *

  “Can you get Harper?” I asked Donna through the speakerphone, wiping the screen with my thumb.

  “Sure thing.”

  I stood, took off my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves. Coffee and a conversation with Joey about baseball had helped me make up my mind to tell Harper she was dropped from the JD Stanley team and to do it as soon as possible. As it was a work-related matter, I should tell her at the office. Part of me wanted to take a bottle of wine over to her apartment, run a bath, and tell her when we were both a glass down. That way I could hold her if she got upset. But Harper had been clear she wanted no special treatment at work.

  “Hi,” Harper said as she appeared in my doorway.

  “Hi,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “Close the door and take a seat.”

  She frowned and did as I asked.

  I took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about the JD Stanley account.” Her hands curled around the arm of the chair. “I’m going to make a change and get Marvin to be my second chair on the JD Stanley pitch.”

  I waited for the explosion.

  Her gaze fell to her lap, then came back up to meet mine. “Is this because I choked at the Goldman meeting?” she asked.

  Of course that was what she’d think. This was my out. I could tell her we needed a more experienced speaker. I didn’t have to tell her what her father had said. I didn’t have to hurt her.

  “How am I supposed to learn from my mistakes if you don’t give me another shot?” She leaned forward a little. “I’m ready this time. I really know the material—even your sections.”

  She was ready. I could tell by the way she spoke in our morning meetings that instead of the failure at Goldman’s sapping her confidence, it had fed it.

  I brought my hands together on my desk. Should I lie to her? Could I?

  I liked to get what I wanted. And I wanted to do the JD Stanley pitch without Harper and have Harper okay about it. But I couldn’t be dishonest to make that happen. It wasn’t the man I was.

  “I know you’re ready. It’s not that.”

  “I mean it, Max. I can show you. Seriously. I can give the presentation to the whole company, bring people in off the street even. I can do this.”

  Fuck, this was going to be harder than I expected. She was so committed to this pitch. Even if her reasons weren’t all business, her attitude was. I nodded. “I know there isn’t a better person for the job.”

  “Then why?” she asked, slamming her hands on the arms of her chair.

  “Your father called me this morning.” She shifted forward in her seat and I took a deep breath. “He said he didn’t want you at the presentation.”

  She flopped back in her chair, staring at my desk, her eyes glazed. I’d never experienced anything like this. In the office everything was so clear to me. It was at home that everything was gray and I always questioned my decisions. Telling Harper this brought out a different side of me. I wanted to go over to her and comfort her.

  “Did he say why?” she asked.

  “Just that he didn’t want to mix personal and professional. Which I can understand.”

  She rose to her feet. “He employs his three male children. That’s not mixing business and personal?”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face. How could I make this okay? “I understand this is frustrating.”

  “Frustrating?” she yelled. “Are you kidding me? The guy’s an asshole. He’s trying to ruin my career.”

  I hadn’t gotten the impression he was doing anything but being selfish. “Maybe he felt a little uncomfortable because the two of you are estranged.” I thought I’d feel the same. “I’m sure he wasn’t trying to make you look bad.”

  Harper laid her hands on my desk, and leaned toward me. “And so what, you just said, ‘yes, sir, thank you, sir? Who cares if I fuck over the girl I’ve been screwing the last few weeks. Who gives a shit about her feelings? As long as I’m still in line for your business, I’ll do anything you say.’ Is that how it went?”

  There was real venom in her tone and she was out of line. I’d acted in the best interests of King & Associates and if she was being rational she’d see it. “No, I said that I thought that you were the best person for the job.” Had she expected me to argue with him? Ultimately he was the client. He got to choose his
team.

  She shook her head. “But you still told him you’d swap me out?”

  “Harper, he’s the client. He can choose who he wants working for him.”

  She shifted, putting her hand on her hip. “Guess what, asshole? You can choose who you work for, too. Don’t you see? He was testing you. Seeing if he asked you to jump, if you’d ask how high. He’s a piece of shit who’s determined to make me miserable.” She covered her face with her hands and my heart squeezed. Fuck, I hated that she did that to me. I hadn’t done anything wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was upset her. I desperately wanted to go to comfort her, but this was business.

  She smoothed down her skirt and pulled back her shoulders. “He asked you to choose between him and me,” she said, her voice quiet. “And you made your decision. So good luck.” She turned and headed to the exit.

  I wanted to run after her, make her understand, but she was out of my door before I’d stood up. The last thing I wanted to do was make a scene, escalate the situation. I’d leave early, but instead of going back to Connecticut tonight, I’d go to her place and we could talk.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harper

  I arrived at Grace’s apartment straight from work, tearstained. On the subway ride over, I’d tried to figure out why I was upset, who I was most upset with—my father or Max. I hadn’t come to any conclusions.

  “Do you think he knew?” Grace asked.

  I sat on her gray five-thousand-dollar couch in Brooklyn, stroking the velvet arm, which was providing me with some small comfort. Grace handed me a huge glass of red wine and sat.

  “What? That my father was testing him?” I asked. Was that what it was? A test? Or a show of power?

  I’d left Max’s office, gone straight back to my desk, printed out my resignation, put it into an envelope, and given it to Donna to deliver to Max. I didn’t have a lot of personal items in the office and I’d managed to get them all into my work carryall.

  I’d cried all the way to Brooklyn.

  “No, do you think your father knew Max King was fucking his daughter?”

  I lifted my head. “How could he? And anyway, why would he care?”