King of Wall Street: a sexy, standalone, contemporary romance (30 page)

We watched them drive off until their taillights had completely disappeared.

“She’s beautiful, Max,” I said.

“She is. Thank you for being here, for helping her. I wanted this to be special; she’s been so excited.”

“It’s been a total pleasure. You didn’t want to go with them?” I asked as Max closed the door.

“Amanda wouldn’t let me. I think she was concerned I’d kick Callum Ryder’s ass given half a chance. And anyway, we have things to talk about,” he replied. He held my gaze and my breathing hitched.

I had things to apologize for. “Max, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I’ve been an idiot and selfish and I lost all judgment when it came to JD Stanley. You did nothing wrong . . .” My words were running together; I wanted to get them all out before he had a chance to say anything that would make it harder to get them out, wanted to make him see how I understood he’d done nothing wrong. I covered my face with my hands.

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” He removed my hands from my face and threaded his fingers through mine. “We were involved and I didn’t think through the consequences of accepting your father’s ultimatum. I have no experience mixing the personal and the professional, so I didn’t think about you or your feelings. I should have.”

“It wasn’t as if we were serious, but if we had been . . .”

He squeezed my hands and heat travelled up my body. “Maybe I gave you the impression that it was just sex, but I’m not sure it was ever that for me. I want to take you out on dates, to have you here with me and Amanda. I want to talk and laugh and wake up together.” He sighed and shook his head. “I thought we had time. I missed the bit where I told you how important you were to me. I told you I’ve had zero practice at this stuff.”

My stomach twisted. “I
was
important?” Did that mean he’d moved on?

“Was and
are
,” he said. “I’m just so sorry I screwed it up.”

How was he making this so easy for me? I’d expected to have to try to convince him, talk him round.

It wasn’t too late. I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. “You didn’t. We’d made no promises to each other, and my issues with my father aren’t your battles to fight.”

“I want your battles to be my battles,” he replied.

The corners of my lips twitched. “You do?”

He nodded. “And I’m ready to make any promises you want. I want to be the man who deserves you. The man who will do anything for the woman he loves.”

I swallowed. “Loves?” I stepped toward him until our bodies were almost touching.

He shrugged. “Yeah. I love you and I need you to know. And I want you to give me a chance. I’m going to get this wrong. A lot. I haven’t had much practice—I’ll need you to stick with me.”

“Max, I’ve never trusted a man. I don’t know how to be that woman.” I’d never expected a relationship to work before, never needed it to. “You’re going to have to be patient with me, but I promise I will do my best if you give me another chance.”

“You can have a lifetime of chances,” he said. “I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t forgive you for.” His eyes were soft and I reached out and stroked his jaw. He was still breathtakingly handsome but somehow the photographs I’d seen of him before I knew him had never done him justice. They’d not seen what a beautiful soul he had, what a wonderful father he was.

I tilted my head to one side. “You know someone told me about this thing Michael Jordan once said.” I released his hands and smoothed my palms up his chest, staring up at him. “He said, ‘I’ve missed more than nine-thousand shots in my career and I’ve lost almost three-hundred games.’”

Max lifted an eyebrow.

I continued. “He said, ‘I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.’”

I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug as he slid his hands around my waist. “Some guy I’m in love with told me about it. I think he’d say that we should keep trying until we win.”

Max’s grin made my stomach swoop. “Sounds like a smart guy.” He paused, then said, “Sounds like a lucky guy.” He pulled me closer and pressed his lips against mine. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His tongue trailed along my lips before pushing in to find my tongue. I’d forgotten how urgent his mouth was, how passionate his kisses could be. With every second, my knees got weaker, my breaths got shorter, but I wanted more.

We separated, panting, our foreheads resting against each other. “I’ve missed you, too.” I slid my arms around his neck. As he lifted me, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Lasagna will have to wait,” he said as he carried me toward the stairs. “I’ve fantasized about having you in this house a million times. I’ve dreamt about bending you over on the kitchen counter and fucking you from behind, thought about laying you out on the dining table and making your pussy quiver with my tongue. But right now I’m going to make love to you in my bed.”

When we got to the bedroom, I unwrapped myself from Max’s body and pulled his shirt from his jeans, undoing the buttons keeping his skin from mine. I wanted time to take in where I was, to get to know more about Max, to hear stories of the black-and-white photographs that lined his bedroom walls and to understand why he’d chosen the huge mahogany four-poster bed. But his touch temporarily wiped all my questions from my head.

“These have been driving me crazy,” he said, reaching under my shorts and cupping my ass.

“They had the desired effect then,” I replied.

“Harper, you could turn up in a trash bag and it would work magic on me.”

“I know that feeling,” I said.

When we were both naked, we stood, staring into each other’s eyes, Max cupping my face. “It’s so good to have you here,” he whispered. “I’ve missed your beautiful, soft skin.” He smoothed his hands over my breasts, around my waist, and across my ass, “Your perfectly wet pussy.” He dipped his hand between my legs and groaned. “I’ve missed this. Your sounds, your wetness.”

My skin tightened and I shivered.

“I’ve got to be inside you. I’ll take my time with you later, but I need to feel you around me. I need to be close.”

It was what I needed, too.

He spun us around, then pushed me against the wall. Lifting my leg, he rubbed his tip along the length of my sex.

“Max, condom,” I said, breathless and desperate.

He shook his head. “I just had my annual checks. I’m all good.”

Oh. I hadn’t slept with anyone but him since I’d last been tested. “Me too, and I’m on the pill.”

I moaned as he pushed into me and stilled. “Good,” he said.

“Max.” I tightened my fingers around his arms. I needed him to wait a few seconds for me to adjust to him. After not having him for so long, in this position, he seemed to fill me more than usual.

He increased his rhythm. “I’m not going to be able to last long, and after I’m done, I’m going to have you on the bed, then in the shower. I’m going to be inside you for
hours
.”

The thought of the relentless drive of his dick in and out of me chased my breath from my lungs.

“Once is never enough with you. I need you all the time, forever.”

I felt as if I were cycling toward the top of a mountain, panting and moaning, desperate to get to the top. As Max thrust into me again, his dick reaching deep inside me, I found myself at the summit. I arched my back as I began to freewheel down the other side.

“I love you,” I whispered into the wind.

Max was right behind me, grunting my name in my ear as he jabbed his hips into me so sharply it would have hurt if it weren’t for the insulating effect of my orgasm. “I love you,” he shouted out.

His skin was hot and sticky with exertion when I put my arms around him, pressing my breasts to his chest, hoping I could attach myself to him permanently. He lifted my ass and I wrapped my legs around him as he walked us toward the bed, still joined, him still inside me. He sat on the edge of the bed, my knees coming to rest on either side of him.

“Lie back,” I said. His eyes looked dazed as he did what I said. “I wasn’t too late,” I mumbled as I began to move my hips, just slightly, enjoying the feel of him still inside me.

He reached toward my breasts, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs as he looked up. His touch melted me around my edges. I contracted my muscles, trying to stem the wetness his touch released.

He groaned, and slipped one hand down to my clit. “Too late?”

I wasn’t sure I could get the words out to clarify. Already I wanted him again, wanted to make the climb up the mountain, even though I was still out of breath from my first trip.

“I was worried you’d be . . .” I gasped as he increased the pressure on my clit. “I was . . .” I couldn’t speak or move while ribbons of pleasure unraveled over and through me. My brain didn’t have capacity.

As if he understood, Max lifted his hips off the bed and I stilled, happy to sit on him, to be taken by him.

“Tell me what you were worried about,” Max said, the muscles in his neck straining.

I pressed my palms against his chest. “That it was too late for us,” I said.

He grabbed my hips and rolled me to my back. “Never,” he said as he pushed into me. “Not ever.”

It was just what I needed to hear. I reached up and traced my fingers over his eyebrows. “I love you.” I couldn’t stop repeating those words. I’d never said them to any man before. No one before Max had ever deserved them.

My orgasm crept up on me, pushing through my body like a tremor: silent, intense, and powerful.

“Oh God, your face when you come.” Max growled and thrust again, erupting into me.

He rolled off me, then pulled me toward him.

“When I get my breath back I’m going to kiss every inch of your skin, then make you come with my tongue.”

“We may run out of time.” I fingered his hair. “I have to make my way back to the city.”

He squeezed me tighter. “Stay. Don’t ever leave.”

I chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe.”

“Things feel a little different,” I said. Perhaps because we were away from the city. Perhaps because I knew how painful losing him had been and knew I’d work hard never to make that mistake again. “I don’t know why, I just—”

“I think it feels like the beginning of forever,” he replied simply.

Epilogue

Three months later

Max

“Come in,” I barked without looking away from my laptop. I thought I was the last one in the office. I was keen to get this piece of work finished and get back to the apartment and get my girl naked, and I didn’t really want any interruptions.

“I’m looking for the King of Wall Street,” Harper said as she opened my door.

I pushed my chair back from my desk. “Hey, I thought I was meeting you back at the apartment.”

She walked toward me, rounding my desk, trailing her hands over the papers stacked up on it. “I couldn’t wait,” she replied, placing her purse on the table by the window.

I swiveled my chair so I was facing her. “How was dinner with your father?” Harper and her dad had seen each other a couple of times in the last few months.

“It was good.” At times I wondered whether or not it was worth the tears that often followed one of their meetings, but she assured me she was crying over their history not their future. If she wanted to try to build a relationship with her father, I was happy to support her in anything she did. “Nice actually. We’re getting to know each other a bit better now.” She leaned forward and unknotted my tie. “And I thought I’d come back here and make sure you were keeping focused.” Gently, she pulled my tie from my neck and sat on my desk. “I remember how you used to tell me how you
weren’t
so focused when I worked here,” she said, pulling up her skirt a little, revealing more of her long, brown thighs.

“Yeah,” I said, a little dazed by the woman in front of me. “It’s better for the bottom line that you don’t work here anymore.”

“I agree,” she said, pushing my chair around with her foot so I was facing her.

“I like your shoes,” I said. They were the first pair I’d bought her from Jimmy Choo. I was becoming quite the regular customer. I’d never seen her wear them outside of the bedroom and they seemed a little much for dinner with her father.

She began unbuttoning her blouse. “I remember you saying you used to think about me . . .” She opened the cream silk, revealing her high, tight breasts. “. . . here.” She leaned back. “On your desk.”

Jesus. Blood rushed to my cock. I’d thought about little else while Harper worked at King & Associates. And despite us being together as a couple, I couldn’t persuade Harper to come back to work for me. Perhaps it was better all round.

“Tell me what you used to think about.” Her back arched and she slid her feet over my thighs.

I grabbed her legs and pushed them apart, her skirt riding up around her waist. Yes, this was just how I’d imagined her.

“Christ, Harper, you’re not wearing underwear.”

She tilted her head. “Is that what you imagined?”