by Jami Wagner
“Maverick,” she whispers. I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look to me. Her eyes search mine, begging for me to come up with a reason why we shouldn’t do this. I can’t think of a single excuse.
I capture her lips against mine, slow and gentle at first. They brush once, twice, over hers before she jerks me against her and slides her tongue over my lips, deepening the kiss. Without breaking the seal, I glide my hands under her thighs and lift her onto my desk. Her legs part to let me step between them, and thank god for that damn slit allowing just enough room.
Beth’s hands slide from my sides to my back and down over my ass. She gives me a tug, but I don’t let our bodies connect. I leave enough room between us to allow one hand to caress her inner thigh. The exact way I was last night.
Her head falls back at my touch. I kiss her neck, her chest, and move the top of her dress aside just enough to tease her. All while my hand sneaks closer and closer to the spot where I want to be most.
“Maverick, this is the worst idea.”
“I know,” I agree, but we don’t stop. When our eyes lock, I slide her panties to the side and slip a finger inside her.
“Maverick,” she pants as I—
“Hey, open the door.” Austin knocks loudly. My hand jerks back and Beth shoves me away from her.
“Fuck,” I say.
“Shit,” she says and we both stare at the door like it’s going to open on its own.
I catch the shadow that moves by my window toward Beth’s office door.
“He’s going to go through your office,” I tell her.
She looks at me with wide, panicked eyes. Right before Austin steps through her door into my office, Beth sits in a chair across from my desk, I take a seat behind my desk, I turn my computer to face her.
“Yes, and I think we should do that before anything else,” Beth says, her voice scarily, completely back in her work tone.
“Why is your door locked?” Austin asks, narrow eyes glancing back and forth between Beth and me. His hands are at his hips by the time he settles his gaze on me.
“We’re working, Austin. We get more done when we don’t have any distractions.” I point to him, hoping he’ll understand what I mean.
“Oh, of course, I just came by to tell you that you have nothing worry about. I’m keeping my word from last night.”
“Great,” I say. I’m not leaving room for more conversation.
“I mean, you really don’t need any more distractions than you have already,” he says. Then he moves his gaze to Beth. “Be sure to ask Mav why he’s here. We never really got to cover it last night, what with you two practically having sex in public and all.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, her gaze meeting mine just briefly. “After we start with our introduction, I think should keep the feel more positive and focus on what TACM can be doing instead of what they haven’t done.”
“I agree,” I say and smile at Austin. “Is there anything else?”
His eyes narrow once more before he turns for my door. He leaves the door both unlocked and open when he leaves.
I chuckle a bit before returning to the discussion of our presentation.
“This isn’t funny, Maverick.”
I love how she still calls me by my full name. Only she could make it sound so seductive.
“It kind of is,’ I say.
Her brow peaks and I nod.
“You’re right. It’s not funny.”
“That can’t happen again,” she tells me, but even as she says it, I don’t think even she believes her own words.
Almost immediately, it’s like every person on the floor has to walk by my office, their eyes meeting mine. The last man, whose name I don’t know, nearly breaks his neck while peering past my door.
It’s like they are all waiting for me to fail. To be the guy they probably heard I was.
Aside from the fact I just broke my father’s number one rule and that, if reported, would reflect on the final decision to promote me, Beth’s chances of making it here after ninety days will be stronger if people don’t know there’s anything between us.
Which should be easy, because there isn’t.
“Again, you’re absolutely right.” I keep my eyes focused on the computer in front of me as I swivel it back around. “I’ll review this and send you an email. I’m sure most of what we want to accomplish today can be done with you in your office and me in mine.”
“Maverick, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”
“Either way, I’m not offended, but I do think it’s for the best.”
“Sure, Mav. Of course,” she replies, her tone dry and that pink color taking over her cheeks.
“Would you mind closing my door?” I ask just as she is stepping into her own space.
Ah, she must not have heard me.
When she’s gone, I lean back in my chair and let out a sigh. If anyone knew what I was thinking right now, they would recognize every ounce of frustration this sigh represents. I finally meet a woman I can’t stop thinking about and she’s off limits.
I’m resisting every urge I have right now to start making my own rules.
Somehow, no matter what I decide to do, I have the feeling I’m still making all the wrong choices.
Beth
What a fucking ass. I mean seriously, what a jackass. I drop the spiral notebook onto my desk and groan as I take my seat. Oh, hey, let me get you all worked up and then get mad because I don’t know what I want. I guarantee that’s his thought process right now. I may be conflicted with this entire situation, but shit, at least I was going to suggest we try to keep anything like that from happening at the office. Just the office. But I didn’t even get that far before his panties got twisted into a bunch and he threw me out. I felt like a child who mouthed off to her father and he sent me back to my room. Thanks, Dad. God. Such a jackass. I gave him a fucking lap dance and this is how he treats me.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. All right, I’m done being mad. I have work to do. Since my damn computer is seriously on a ten-second timer to fall asleep, I wake it once again to pick up where I left off before I went to Maverick’s office. I’ve just opened a new search bar on the Internet to search local businesses that might be interested in supporting the station when a little box pops up in the lower right-hand side of my computer screen.
“Message from Mav…”
It’s actually a cool nickname.
No, he doesn’t get a nickname. He doesn’t get anything.
For reasons I’m unsure of, I check my doorway and the open windows of my office. Not a single person is aware of what I’m doing.
I open the message box.
Mav: I’m sorry.
Beth: For?
Mav: You know.
Beth: It could be a number of things, really. I’ll need you to be more specific.
Mav: I’m sorry for kicking you out the way I did.
Beth: Oh. All right.
Mav: I’m sorry because we work together and that can’t happen again. But, trust me when I say, I’ll never be sorry for kissing you, Beth.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I contemplate my response.
That’s good. Now stop acting like a child.
Of course, don’t be silly.
I know.
Or my most favorite but most inappropriate: Screw work. Let’s do it again.
Instead of any of those, I settle for the more mature route. Since I’m at work and all.
Beth: Thank you for apologizing.
A blurb in a tiny message under the textbox displays Mav is typing …
I should get back to work and not sit here staring at the screen, waiting for his response. The message goes away and then pops back up, but still no response. I minimize the screen.
This is crazy. I don’t think about guys like this. Ever. Nothing should change because of this one. How many times am I going to have to remind myself of this? There are way too
many factors that could make this a messy situation. I can’t afford to not get this job. A bad breakup would be the best-case scenario. If we dated. Which we aren’t. So, I should just get back to work.
An hour later and I still can’t stop my eyes from glancing at the message box at the bottom of my screen. The one not flashing with a reply. The one I should probably just exit out of all together so I can get my mind to focus. How in the fuck does anyone in a relationship get crap done? I can’t get my brain to function after just a kiss.
As if my body now knows when he’s near, I look up to see Mav passing my office. He doesn’t glance over. My heart sinks.
It sinks even more with the realization that I’ve already let myself develop feelings for him. The one thing I’ve fought for so many years to do when it comes to men and Mav shows up and changes everything.
Maverick. Argh. He doesn’t get a stupid nickname from me.
* * *
Skylar pours me another beer and sets it in front of me. This week has been killer. I’m so glad it’s Friday. Working with Maverick after that kiss was … mentally exhausting.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, folding her arms as she leans on the bar.
I shake my head.
My phone rings on the bar top next to my beer. My mother’s face flashes across the screen. I tap the red button and then gulp back half my drink.
“Want to talk about that?” Sky glances to my phone before meeting my eyes.
Again, I shake my head.
How did I get so lucky that both my family and my work can stress me out? Aren’t your home life and work life supposed to be the happiest places in life?
“I don’t want this to come out as I’m an expert, but if anyone knows anything about wanting to escape and avoid all family, I’d probably be the best person for you to talk to.”
I glance up see to a pair of concerned eyes and a soft smile.
“I just can’t be the person my mom wants me to be. I’m always letting her down. She wants me to hate my father just as much as she does, and I know he hurt her, but it doesn’t work like that. He’s still my dad; he never stopped caring about me. And even if I do move to take care of her, I know it won’t get better.”
If I don’t get this job, addressing these subjects will be like dragging a rusty nail over my skin. I really would rather not do it.
“She just doesn’t want to feel alone,” Sky says.
“She wouldn’t be alone if she could let it go and stop drinking. If she could not talk about my dad’s new girlfriend each time I saw her. I can’t even remember the last time she asked me about my own life.”
“Do you ask about hers?” Sky asks.
My brow peaks. “I don’t exactly get a chance when she’s blabbering on and on about my father and slurring her words so badly I can only make out the foul ones.”
“She cares and has a bigger heart than a lot of moms out there. Just try changing the subject next time and maybe get her coffee or something. I don’t really know that area.”
Sky smiles at the man who just walked up beside my barstool. He orders a Bud Light and she hands him a bottle before bringing her attention back to me.
“I’m sorry Sky, here I am complaining because my mom calls me too much when—”
“When my mom hasn’t called me since the day I left home. It’s okay.” She winks at me. “Just make it better. Don’t give up on her.”
I’ve spent more than enough nights with Sky as she’s sobbed until she falls asleep over the fact her mother doesn’t approve of her life here in Wind Valley. I don’t ever want to be that way with my own mother, but it’s been years since I felt my mom cared about anything other than what my father was doing without her. I wish I could say I believe she will move on and we can have a relationship again, but I don’t think she ever will.
“Maverick kissed me this week,” I blurt out, changing the subject.
Sky gives me a huge grin. “And?”
“And then he apologized and said it couldn’t happen again.”
I don’t share anything about the night at the strip club.
“Ouch.”
“You know why he did that though, don’t you?” Luke, Sky’s boyfriend, speaks up next to her.
“How long have you been listening to us?” she asks him, her hands on her hips. She’s smiling, so it’s clear she isn’t mad.
“Longer than I should have,” he answers her, following up his words with a kiss. “But you do know, don’t you?” He looks at me.
I shrug with a small shake of my head. If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I’d be working. Focusing. Being successful and not conflicted about the choices I’ve made lately.
Ugh. And all over a guy.
I finish off my drink and push it toward Sky.
“More, please.”
She eyes me for a moment before handing me my refill.
“He said that because if you know it can’t happen again, that makes two minds who know it shouldn’t happen.”
I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t.
“Real solid advice, Luke. I’m not sure how your wit landed you this woman,” I say.
He doesn’t deserve the attitude that came with that remark, but I’m not sure how to have any other tone at the moment.
“Whoa, I’m not finished,” he says. “If you both know, then when it does happen again, because it will, he won’t be the only one at fault. He’ll say he tried to warn you. That you could have stopped him and so on.”
“So, you’re saying he lied?” Sky asks.
“In a way, yeah, I guess.”
“Well,” I say and take a quick sip of my beer. “Not only is that the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, but it sounds like a game I’m not interested in.”
I pull cash from my purse and lay it between us.
“Thanks for the talk,” I say and head home.
Moping isn’t going to get me anywhere; I need to get my act together fast. My life depends on it, my job depends on it, and now, my heart.
Maverick Mitchell will no longer be a problem for me, and the next time I see him, I’m going to let him know just that.
Chapter Seven
Beth
I really wish the confidence that came with a buzz would follow me to work in the mornings. I understand that Maverick is trying to be the good guy here and not fool around with someone he works with, but he’s going to have to stop arriving to work in his perfect suit with his perfect hair and that perfect smile surrounded by that perfectly groomed face. It’s been more than a week and everything about him still screams irresistible, and unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—my body hasn’t yet learned what self-control is.
I also, obsessively, won’t let this go.
“Hey, Maverick,” I say, peeking into his office the way I always do when a quick message back and forth won’t work. Especially since this time around, I’m not here for work. Nope, I’m basically walking into his office with full intentions of being up to no good. Just because he says this thing between us can’t happen doesn’t mean the conversation ends there. I get a say too, damn it.
“Yeah.” He smiles at me from his desk. When I know I have his full attention I step through the doorway.
“I have a new print-out of the first slide,” I say, my diversion for getting close to him.
“Great, I was actually thinking we should have a presentation with words and one without. The one with we could send to them, and the one without can be the one we present to them. That way they are actually listening to us and not reading the projection instead.”
“That’s a great idea.” His enthusiasm only makes me want to make my next move more.
“Look, Maverick, I’m just going to get right to the point.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, standing as he watches me with concern.
“Yes, but I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, and I was also thinking that mayb
e if we had sex once, I could get you out of my system and I’ll be all set.” The words are barely out of my mouth before he’s capturing mine with his own.
Everything about our embrace right now is desperate. Hands moving feverishly from our hair to our hips to our asses, gripping or groping where we can as our bodies rub against each other.
I push him back on his chair, resting my knee between his legs as I lean over him, never breaking the kiss. His hands go straight to my butt. That’s how far we get when I remember where we are. And that his door is wide open. And that’s exactly where his hands are continuing to rest when we hear him.
“I’m just going to speak with Maverick for a quick second.”
We both freeze at the sound of his uncle’s voice.
“Hide, now, under the desk.” Maverick nudges me; all the while I am protesting.
“You’re joking, right?” I laugh at him. “Just hold it together.”
“Uncle Bart, what can I do for you?”
I want to whisper that he shouldn’t sound so eager, but I think that would defeat the purpose of the issue we’re trying to hide right now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Maverick sweat like he is right now. He clearly doesn’t seem to do well under pressure.
“Oh perfect, I was hoping to speak with you and Miss Moyer for a quick moment.”
“Oh … yeah …” Maverick’s choice of words trail off as he struggles to come up with something. Really, Maverick?
“About what, sir?” I ask and side glance Maverick. What the fuck is his deal?
“The owner of TACM contacted to me to let me know you pitched the station to the event center and that they accepted. He’s quite pleased and so am I. I’d like to meet with you both in my office a bit later to go over more details.”
“Of course,” I answer him because Maverick apparently isn’t talking anymore.
