“But you didn’t let him?” Pride swelled Letty’s chest, and she couldn’t wait anymore. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his scruffy face all over.
“My family didn’t let him.”
The impact of Max teaming up with his family to keep their mother safe and their inheritance secure from their father’s machinations, hit her in the solar plexus so hard that tears formed in her eyes. “Your family.”
She was half on his lap by then, and he buried his hand in her hair. “You taught me that I can count on them. Opening up to you made me believe it.” He gave her a kiss on the mouth, too short for her taste. “I’ll never be as rich as your parents, but you won’t have to worry about anything.”
Letty shrugged. “I’m not worried. I’m not rich, either.”
He smiled, broadly and without hesitation, as though all the rust had gone from the muscles he used for that. She couldn’t do anything else but smile at him and wait for him to kiss her.
But he seemed intent on drawing that out as long as possible. “That’s not all.”
What else could there possibly be? “Out with it. We have to get to work on getting you ready for the exhibition.”
“Not so fast, you won’t have time to help me get ready.”
“I won’t?”
“You won’t.” He kissed her again on the mouth. “You’re going to have a new job.” At her perplexed look, he continued, “You’re going to have Simon’s old job.”
Shock locked her into place. Right then, she was only thankful that she was right where she wanted to be—with Max and in his arms. She struggled to process what he’d said. “I don’t understand any of the words you just said. Like…how?”
“Lola got my father to recommend her to the board, and she recommended you.”
“Is she magic?”
Max laughed, and the full-throated sound rocked her to her core. Suddenly, none of the details about his family, her family, a new job mattered. All she wanted were his rough hands all over her body, his lips on hers, and his cock slipping inside her.
“Maybe.”
“Are we done talking now?”
His eyes went molten and soft. “What would you rather be doing?”
She didn’t answer, just kissed him with everything she had inside her. His arms banded her so closely that she might not have been able to breathe, but she didn’t need oxygen. She needed Max.
They stayed like that, her wrapped around him for long moments, until the need to get rid of clothes and get down to business took over. Both of them breathed heavy, and she felt as though their pulses raced as one. Without much ceremony, he had her shirt and bra off. Then, she went to work on his T-shirt.
They both sighed when they were finally skin-on-skin.
“Is your sister coming home anytime soon?”
Letty knew that Max wasn’t hoping for a threesome, like Simon would have been asking that question, so she raised one eyebrow. “She’s out of town this weekend. Your honor is safe.”
And that made him laugh again and made her heart grow three sizes. When they’d met, he had never laughed. And now, he’d done it twice in the space of a few minutes.
“Thank God.” Just like that, the laughter left his voice and he flipped her over on the couch. His hands moved her legs so she was wrapped around him, his hard cock right lined up with her core. If he weren’t wearing pants and she didn’t have panties on, he could be inside her. Just his bare erection cocooned inside her. They wouldn’t be just two people with one pulse, but they could be the same person for a few moments.
She grasped his face, loving the feel of his beard against her palms. After another soul-drowning kiss, Max stopped her and pulled back.
“What this time?”
“I have one more thing to say.”
God, she could just drown in his gaze. The way he looked at her was magic, made her feel like magic, made her feel like anything was possible. “Out with it.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
He pinched her side, not enough to make a mark or hurt, but enough that she jumped. “Not the response I was going for.”
“I love you, too.” He rubbed his hand over the spot where he’d pinched her, making sparks go off through her entire body. “I know you love me because you wouldn’t have come here tonight—wouldn’t have gotten me my job back, never faced down your father for me if you didn’t love me.”
“But I needed to say the words.” He kissed her nose. “I’ll say the words every day.”
That was fine with her, but it was time to leave behind the words and get to the action now. “Please do.”
She shifted her hips restlessly underneath him, and he finally got the message. “You need me to show you.”
She nodded. “Preferably every day.”
“Works for me.” He kissed down her jaw before levering himself up to get them the rest of the way undressed. “Maybe twice a day sometimes.”
“Three if we’re feeling lucky.”
Finally naked and suited up, he was back on top of her, sheltering her, making her feel so safe and loved, he slid inside. “I’m always feeling lucky when I’m with you.”
Epilogue
Max held on to Letty’s waist as they made their way through the crowd on the rooftop of the SoHo House. He didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, but she’d also shivered when getting out of the car downstairs, and he hadn’t been able to convince her to bring a jacket. She’d said it would ruin the lines of the Prada gown the label had sent over. Such a stubborn woman, but he loved it.
He ran his hand over her bare lower back, wishing that he’d been able to get his hands all over her before this party. She’d been waiting in front of her building when he’d picked her up. Because she didn’t live with him and she’d refused to discuss moving in together. They were at a stand off because he wanted to move her in with him in a proper house—the one he’d bought with his earnings from the gallery earlier this week.
Not that he didn’t like his girl showing more than a little bit of skin. Ever since she’d started modeling—not full-time and mostly with her sister—she had gotten more and more comfortable showing skin to people other than him. And, while he liked that she’d become more uninhibited, he wanted her to be warm.
That probably explained why he growled at the photographer who asked for a picture of his “wife” alone. At least, that was what he would tell Letty when she teased him about it later. Fuck, she was teasing him now with the way that the wisps of silk floated around her legs. And she put her hand over his on her waist so that he wouldn’t walk away from her.
Protecting her had become the greatest source of pleasure in his life—like the time he’d protected her permanently from her shitty parents by grabbing the phone when her mother had called to berate her and growled at them. She called much less frequently now.
Then Letty smiled up at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. He’d done that a lot in the year that they’d been together. He felt like himself when he was smiling. Before he’d met Letty, fallen in love with her, his muscles hadn’t remembered how to do that.
He couldn’t wait until he could drag her out of the party, rip that expensive, wispy dress to shreds, and kiss every inch of her skin. But he kept the urge contained. This was her moment. They were at an exclusive party that she’d planned, they were raising money for a cause that mattered, and no one cared about his exhibition opening at the show the next day—all sculptures inspired by her.
In the past year, Letty had used the not-small amount of interest she’d had in her modeling to elevate causes she cared about. And, when the Art Basel board had started making noises about her modeling in her skivvies being inappropriate, Lola had shut them up.
When he finally pulled her away along with a bottle of champagne a couple of hour
s later, she was flushed and breathless from talking to everyone. As much as he always wanted to keep her to himself, he loved that she was finally happy in the spotlight. He was happy to stay on the sidelines, but that was growing more difficult with more success.
“Someone out there called us a ‘power couple.’” Letty sounded a little incredulous.
Max laughed. “All you, precious girl.”
He steered them to a couch and sat her down on his lap. She didn’t even try to move away like she had when they’d first gotten together. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled the side of his face.
When she sighed, he ran his palms up and down over the silky fabric covering her hips. “I can’t wait to take this dress off you.”
“You don’t like it?” He didn’t miss the humor in her voice.
“I just think it would look a whole lot better on my floor.” He actually thought it would look better hanging in his closet—along with all her other clothes.
“How about I leave it on the chair?”
He was never going to hear the end of that. One night, she’d gotten to his loft while he’d been out. It was always a nice surprise to find her naked and holding a sketchbook. That night, she’d told him to leave his clothes on the chair so she could draw him. She hadn’t gotten very far in the drawing. He’d gotten hard and started jerking himself off. Apparently, that had made it impossible for her to get an “accurate rendering.”
The memory, like all the memories they were making together, filled his heart and his cock.
Why couldn’t she see that he wanted every night to be like that? He’d made a concerted effort to be at least ten times less grumpy because he wanted her in his life all the time and needed to wake up with her every morning. That’s why he broke his promise to himself and said, “I’d like it better hanging in my closet.”
She pulled back and he prepared for another no. “You’re really serious about this?”
“Dead serious.” He held her face in his hands. “Is it because I don’t have a real house?”
She shook her head and kissed him on the nose as though he was sweet. Stupid, but sweet. And she well knew that it made him crazy when she acted like he wouldn’t make her scream with pleasure for thinking that. “I just didn’t know if you would change your mind.”
“Change my mind about wanting you?” This woman must be crazy. Or he must be a terrible boyfriend. “I will never change my mind about how much I love you. You drive me nuts, and I can’t get enough of you. I want you with me all the time. Every day.”
“But I know you need your space.”
“I only need my space from other people—never from you.” Enough people had cleared from the party that it didn’t feel like they were on display when he kissed her, trying to pour everything into the kiss.
When he pulled back, her lips were kiss-swollen, just the way he liked them. “I said that I didn’t know, not that I don’t know now.”
“You’re moving in?”
“I was going to tell you after your opening. Like, as a present.”
“Every day with you is a present.”
She blushed. “I think that was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Well, I’m pissed you haven’t been giving me that present every day since I asked you to move in with me the first time.”
Out of the sight line of onlookers, she rubbed her hand over his cock. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Damn right you will, precious girl.”
The End
Meet the Author
Andie J. Christopher writes edgy, funny, sexy contemporary romance. She grew up in a family of voracious readers, and picked up her first Harlequin romance novel at age twelve when she’d finished reading everything else in her grandmother’s house. It was love at first read. It wasn’t too long before she started writing her own stories—her first heroine drank Campari and wore a lot of Esprit. Andie holds a bachelor’s degree from the University of Notre Dame in economics and art history (summa cum laude), and a JD from Stanford Law School. She lives in Washington, D.C., with a very funny French bulldog named Gus. Please visit her at andiejchristopher.com.
Stroke of Midnight
One Night In South Beach
Andie Christopher
One night.
New Year’s Eve in Miami. Even workaholic Alana Hernandez can’t resist the call of the city, especially if it will get her little sister off her back. But a night of celebrating turns into a night of mischief when an alluring stranger catches her eye across the dance floor.
No names.
Former Navy Seal Cole Roberts isn’t looking for anything more than a good time in Miami. Since leaving the military and being betrayed by his former fiancée, he’s not interested in unnecessary complications. But the moment he sets eyes on the sultry beauty, Cole knows this night will be far from ordinary.
No going back.
Neither Cole nor Alana are looking for a relationship, so they strike a deal: One night. No names. No repeats. But things get complicated when their night of passion becomes something neither can walk away from.
Chapter 1
Alana jabbed the speakerphone button. She dropped her head to her fancy leather desk blotter when she heard her sister’s voice. “Do you realize how pathetic it is that you’re at the office at 10 p.m. on New Year’s Eve? I was really hoping you weren’t going to pick up, that maybe you were off having a clandestine affair with a client.”
“Then why did you call me?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “And an affair with a client would be unethical.”
“Well, you’re going to be at my place in twenty minutes so that I can get you ready to go out.”
“I’m not going out on South Beach tonight,” Alana said.
“Come on. All the girls are home with their husbands. Geoff won’t come out with me. You’re my only hope.”
“You should hang out with your fiancé at home. I would kill for a couch and a bottle of wine right now. And I’d probably fall asleep under the bar.” She started packing up for the night. Even if she managed to fend off Carla, she was about ready to head home with her work. “What about Javi?” Their older brother was probably going out. He went out a lot, to drink and pick up a willing woman to bang so he didn’t have to think about his unfaithful ex-wife. He needed to come up with a better coping mechanism, and soon. She didn’t mind picking up the slack right now, but she wanted him to turn into her big brother again. Maybe as soon as the divorce was final, she’d get him back.
She was here, polishing a client proposal on New Year’s Eve instead of binge watching Arrow because her brother had scheduled a client meeting next week and neglected to tell her about it until this morning. She hated being kept out of the loop. But she had to pick up Javi’s mess because her jerk of a sibling had checked out of the family business, and with their dad about to retire, she was the only person that noticed. Her father had built the company from nothing, given her and her siblings a life he couldn’t have dreamed of growing up in Cuba, and she felt responsible for keeping the whole thing afloat.
“I’m not going to be a wing woman for Javi again. The last time I warned the poor girl away before she could go home with him.” Alana laughed. “He was pissed.”
“I’ll bet. Listen, I have to finish this prospectus.” She sifted through the stack of papers on her desk. “It’s going to take me at least another couple of hours.”
“Tomorrow’s a holiday. Finish it after the brunch at Mom and Dad’s.”
“Carlita—” She used the diminutive of her sister’s name, like she always did when her sister acted like a brat.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re so boring now. I’ve let it go until now, but enough is enough. We are going out. You are not going to talk about work.” Alana slumped in her chair. “And yo
u are going to have fun and talk to boys—about something other than spreadsheets.”
“Nothing sounds worse to me than going out on New Year’s Eve. It’s going to be a total clusterfuck.” She hated crowds. Loathed them. Her breath caught just thinking about being in a crush of people. “The only things I think about are spreadsheets, anyway.”
“Are you going to marry a spreadsheet? Is a spreadsheet going to touch your boobs?” Alana dropped her head back and looked to the heavens. Carla had a point there. How long had it been since she’d been kissed? Too long probably.
She couldn’t help but smirk at the thought that the most action she’d seen had come from a contract when it got stuck to her left boob yesterday when she fell asleep at her desk. “I’m not going to meet anyone who I want to touch my boobs at a club on South Beach.”
“I met Geoff at a bar. And he thinks about more than numbers. Sometimes.”
She definitely didn’t want someone like Geoff touching her anywhere. Her sister’s fiancé was a douchebag. But he loved her flighty, unreliable, adorable sister so he must have some redeeming qualities. Alana just couldn’t think of any.
Her gaze shifted between the stack of papers and the phone. She hadn’t spared much time for her sister lately. But Carla always wanted to go to some rowdy club; mingling with young people who had a lot of money was good for her sister’s interior design business. Alana would rather sit around in her pajamas and drink a couple of bottles of good wine.
For Alana, going out was an inefficient use of her time. It wasn’t as if she could relax. She had a company to keep afloat. She’d spend the entire time thinking about investment approaches, possible pitches, and client meetings—nothing that would relieve the intractable knots of stress in her shoulders. Flirting with guys so that her sister didn’t think she was a loser was the last thing she wanted to do.
Night and Day Page 19
