Chapter 13

Max

I nearly told the limo driver to go park somewhere secluded for twenty minutes so I could sample Emma before the dinner, but it would be rude for us to show up late. I couldn’t even remember the name of the organization hosting the event, or what my money was going toward, but I almost never did these days. Paulina was always signing me up for this or that, and I always went, even if I didn’t always enjoy it. Tonight, however, I had a hunch I would enjoy it very much.

Emma looked positively stunning. The green in her dress clashed violently with the red of her hair, somehow making her seem all the more vibrant. Her hair curled over the tops of her breasts, just brushing the neckline of her dress, and it looked all silky and smooth. She had managed to surprise me, yet again. Emma was full of surprises.

“Thank you again for inviting me,” she said, as I climbed in the limo after her and closed the door. It was exactly the kind of cute, innocent thing she would say. I couldn’t wait to see how deep her innocence went.

I settled onto the seat next to her and leaned forward to grab the champagne from the ice bucket, pouring us each a glass.

“No, thank you,” I said as I held my glass up to hers, capturing her gaze. “This will be the first of these events I’ve attended in a long while that won’t have me bored to death.”

She chuckled. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, Emma girl,” I said huskily. “Yes, I most certainly do. I know it very well.”

Her pupils widened, and that simple evidence of her desire sent a zap of pleasure straight to my balls. God, did I have to wait until later? I should have come early. I would have, if I’d only known how irresistible she would prove to be, or that I’d have a raging hard on the second I laid eyes on her.

We clinked glasses and drank. I soon became distracted by the long line of her throat, so pale and creamy. It was going to be a long night, but for a different reason than it ever had been before.

This was something I would enjoy.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” said Emma, smiling at the woman while balancing hors d’oeuvres in one hand and her wine glass in the other. “It was a great read though, despite all the problematic elements.”

The woman Emma was talking to, a powerful oil baroness on the East Coast, nodded along approvingly. “I dare say it was. I’m glad I had someone to talk this out with. I thought I was going crazy.”

I had no idea what the women were talking about. Some book that they’d both read, apparently. I’d gotten distracted at the start of the conversation by Emma’s face transforming with excitement, and hadn’t checked back in until they were already discussing the characters.

I was quite happy to stand there and mingle without having to speak. I always spent these entire events talking, and only now did I realize that it was because my dates never had a word to contribute. Emma wasn’t like that. She had found common ground with every person to whom I’d introduced her, especially Greta Holbrook, her new best friend.

“Did you hear he’s writing another?” Greta said.

“I thought he told everyone the story was finished?”

The older woman winked. “I know someone who knows someone in his inner circle. It’s going to be a big surprise, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t wait!”

I let the hand resting on Emma’s curved back slide just a little bit lower, watching in amusement as the hairs on her arms stood up and took notice. I was having trouble keeping my hands off of her, and teasing her this way allowed me to get my own way—while not getting it at all.

Emma had impressed me tonight, both as an employee and as a date. She fit in well, even though I could tell she was out of her depth comfort-wise. She was putting in a real effort to do a good job, and it showed. And as she loosened up a little after the first glass or so of champagne, I could tell she was having a great time. We both were.

“I must get back to my table, I’m afraid,” said Greta, placing a regretful hand on Emma’s forearm. “I do hope we get another chance to chat before the end of the evening.”

“Me too!” Emma beamed. “It was great to meet you.”

“And you as well, darling.”

Emma turned to me as Greta walked away, batting at my hand playfully. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“There’s no law against wandering hands.”

Her cheeks, already a little flushed from the wine, went just a shade more crimson. “Should we get to our table too? I think they’re about to serve.”

“Truth be told, I’m not much interested in dinner,” I replied, leaning in low to whisper in her ear. “I’m more interested in dessert.”

Emma was now beet red, and I laughed as I put my hand on her waist and guided her to our table. This sexual tension between us was delicious, especially since I knew we’d break it tonight. In only a few hours I’d finally have her. Claim her. Maybe afterward I’d be able to go two hours without thinking about her.

“I didn’t know you were such a little charmer,” I said. I pulled Emma’s chair out, and she bowed her head and sat.

“I bet there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

I grinned and took my seat. The hotel’s conference room had been decorated minimally, since it was already a grand room on its own. Each table was covered with a white linen tablecloth and a unique custom glass centerpiece was displayed on each one. They would be auctioned off at the end of the dinner. Maybe I’d buy one as a souvenir of tonight.

“Tell me more, then,” I said, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I want to know all about you, Emma Valentine. You’re a mystery to me.”

She snorted. “Me? A mystery? The only thing mysterious about me is how I got hired at your company.”

“That is not a mystery at all. Haddie liked you and thought you’d be a good fit. She was right.”

Emma’s eyes filled with warmth. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so.” I took a long drink of my wine, holding her gaze. When I lowered my glass, she licked her lip absentmindedly, like her mind had gone somewhere sordid.

“Tell me more about you,” I repeated. “Tell me what makes you tick.”

“You’re quite demanding, you know that?”

I chuckled. “Baby, you have no idea.”

We hadn’t even kissed yet and already I couldn’t keep myself from teasing her. Tempting her. She reacted exactly how I knew she would, by breaking our stare and reaching for her wine glass.

“I grew up in Illinois,” she said a moment later. “My dad worked in a factory and my mom stayed at home.” She shrugged to top it off.

“Any siblings?”

Emma swallowed, then nodded slowly. “I had a brother. Older by a few years. He died when I was little though, so I never really got to know him.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, covering the hand sitting next to her plate with mine. “That must have been hard.”

“It didn’t have to be,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. She seemed to shake herself, then her smile returned. “What about you? You’re an only child, right?”

I nodded. If she didn’t want to talk about her family right now, I understood, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious.

“I’m sure my mother wanted a long line of sons and daughters to marry off into various business alliances, but she was unfortunate and only ever had the one.”

“That must be why she dotes on you so much,” Emma teased.

“Dotes on me? You and I must have a very different understanding of the word doting.”

Emma laughed. “I get being frustrated by how much she tries to interfere in your life, but I truly believe she’s doing it because she loves you. That’s just how she shows it. I would’ve loved for my mom to take such a positive interest in my dating life.”

She blanched a little, and I got the impression she didn’t mean to talk about her mom. I didn’t want to push her, as I could tell the topic made her uncomfortable. Another time, I decided.

“Enough of my mother’s talents for meddling,” I said lightheartedly. “I want to know if you have any hidden talents.”

The lick of innuendo in my tone swung the mood back into happier territory, and Emma grinned.

“What you see is what you get with me, I’m afraid.”

“So your talents are scanning documents with surgical precision and licking envelopes?” I asked.

Emma rolled her eyes. On stage, someone approached the microphone, and for a moment we were forced to listen as the MC announced to the room that the food was on its way out.

Once the servers started circulating with the first course, Emma revealed a little more.

“I used to really like drawing,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to get back into it.”

“What’s stopping you?”

She took another drink of her wine, and I admired how elegant her hand looked clutching the glass. “I haven’t had the time, you know? And I used to have all these expensive pencils and paper and everything, which I know of course that I don’t need to draw, but I miss using them. I guess it’s a little daunting for me to get started again from nothing, so I just haven’t.”

A server came by and slid a salad down in front of each of us. Emma picked up her fork and started stabbing at it, but I was still too engrossed in this new detail.

“Why did you stop?”

Emma stabbed a little harder at her salad, spearing several pieces of cucumber and tomato in one go. “My ex used to tell me I didn’t have enough talent. It got to the point where every time I picked up a pencil I’d hear him in my head and get all embarrassed. It was stupid of me to stop.” She shoved the forkful in her mouth and started crunching through it with a vengeance. “It was stupid of me to stay with him so long, now that I think about it. Lance throwing me out was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

My blood boiled. I couldn’t believe somebody would treat Emma like that. It wouldn’t matter if she was the worst artist in the world, Lance had no right to discourage her like that.

“That guy is a dick,” I told her. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that, but I’m glad you’re done with him now.”

She smiled, “Me too.” A second later, she added, “And hey, I’m moving into my own place at the end of the month. It’s just a little shoebox, but it’s all mine. I’m moving forward, and that’s all that matters to me now.”

She munched away happily from then on, talking about everything from the curiosities she’d found in Willow’s fridge over the past few weeks, to how much she adored the latest season of Game of Thrones. It was so easy to talk to her, especially now that she wasn’t too nervous to speak freely. Hadn’t I said that once she opened up a little, she’d be great? I was right.

There were speeches after dinner. Lots of them. I was just about to start messing with Emma under the table to amuse myself when the last speaker finished to a round of relieved applause. The MC came back to announce that the dance floor would be opening soon, and I grinned wolfishly at Emma.

She laughed. “Oh no, I don’t think we can do the same kind of dancing that we did last weekend.”

“Who says?”

“I say.” She put her nose in the air. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

I chuckled and grabbed Emma’s hand anyway, pulling her upright. “We’re going to the dance floor. If you won’t dance with me the fun way, I suppose I’ll just have to take you the old-fashioned way.”

I let the innuendo settle as I led her out to where couples had begun milling at the front of the room. The band introduced themselves then started into an old rock classic. The middle-aged couples surrounding the floor went wild. I went to dive in, but something caught my attention at the other side of the room. Not something.

Someone.

“Shit,” I winced.

“What is it?” Emma asked, eyes wide with concern.

“Constance Klein is over there,” I told her, angling our bodies away so she wouldn’t see us. “From what I understand, she didn’t take me ditching her with as much grace as I would have hoped.

Emma’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Oh no! What do we do?” Then, a flash of mischief in her eyes. She grabbed my hand. “Come with me.”

I was surprised by her sudden handling of the situation and wanted to see what she had in mind. She zigzagged through the room, stopping at a pair of French doors at the far end and testing the handle. It wasn’t locked.

“Awesome,” she said triumphantly, opening the door just wide enough for us to slip through.

The door led to a balcony that overlooked a wide boulevard and the glass skyscrapers across from us. It was still a little chilly this early in the season, and I shrugged out of my jacket and placed it around Emma’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” she murmured, tugging it close around her shoulders.

I was surprised more people weren’t out on the balcony, but happy about it all the same. I’d been wanting to get Emma alone all night.

Emma turned and walked to the railing, resting her hands on the smooth stone. I walked behind her, staggering my palms on either side of hers so that my chest was pressed tight against her back. She fell into me almost instinctively, and I leaned down to press my nose against her hair. She smelled fresh and earthy, like a forest after a cleansing rainfall, but sweeter. I trailed lower, moving aside her hair to give me access to her throat. Emma let out a tiny gasp as my lips brushed over her skin, raising gooseflesh in their wake.

“Max...” she whispered.

“Yes?”

She took a breath. “Is this a bad idea?”

My deep laugh rumbled through both of us. “If it was, would you ask me to stop?” I circled her waist, splaying my palms against her stomach and tugging her back hard.

She shivered, and I kissed the curve of her neck, nibbling on her sweet skin.

Emma sucked in a ragged breath. “No.”

“Hmm?”

“No, I wouldn’t ask you to stop,” she said. “I don’t think I could.”

“Good,” I whispered. “I don’t think I could either.”

I couldn’t wait any longer. I turned Emma in my arms and pressed her back against the railing, as if I needed to hold her in place so she wouldn’t escape. Her hands gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me closer still.

I leaned in, and finally got my first taste of those decadent lips. She tasted like wine and sweetness, the delicate mingling of her innocent personality and her womanly desires. I parted her lips and probed with my tongue, seeking entrance. She opened up for me like a flower, and from that moment I knew she was mine.

Our lips and tongues dance fervently, passionately. I sucked on her bottom lip and made her moan, which was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard in my life. She was putty in my hands and I couldn’t wait to mold her. I couldn’t wait to bring her such earth-shattering pleasure that she’d never forget tonight or me, or the way I held her like she was everything.

She nipped at my bottom lip, and it surprised me so much that a deep growl vibrated through my chest. My cock was stiff and ready in my pants. I could fuck her out here, right in the open. I bet nobody would know, and it would be hot as hell. Too bad I wanted to take my time with her for the first time. She was uncharted wilderness that I was eager to explore, and this balcony wasn’t the right venue to do so. It was, however, perfect for this kiss, this release of our desires. She wasn’t holding back anymore and neither was I, and I wanted her to know that.

I wanted her to taste my hunger, a hunger only she could taste.

It was a good thing I hadn’t decided to give in to my urges, however, because at that moment the French door creaked open and we were no longer alone.