The Devil in Denim (27 page)

Alex stilled at the movement, closed his eyes. She bent forward, kissed him again, and then began to explore. Kissing her way down his chest. Playing with him the way that he had played with her.

She kissed lower and lower and then, finally, ran her tongue down the hard length of him just to hear him groan. She liked the sound. She did it again.

And again. Settled in to learn what he liked, what had passed in a blur the night before with no time for memorizing. What she could do to him with lips and tongue and fingers. Quite a lot, it seemed. His breath came fast and she could feel the tension run through his body, feel his thighs and legs tighten and the muscles tremble as she licked and sucked and teased. She liked the feeling. It made her own breath quicken, made her ache.

Alex’s hand caught her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She wasn’t sure if he was urging her on or asking her to stop. She didn’t feel like stopping, not just yet. She swirled her tongue over him again and his grip tightened.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

She grinned, lifted her head. “I thought I was trying to make you come.”

“Like I said, you’re trying to kill me.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I do. Trust me, I do. But I’m feeling a little … impatient.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were all mine.”

“I am.”

“But you’re taking charge now?”

“No, but I’m asking for mercy.”

“Mercy?” She smiled down at him. “What’s in it for me?”

“Me,” he said fervently.

“Ah,” she said. “I think I can see the appeal of that.”

“Thank God,” Alex said. He reached out an arm toward her bedside table. Flicked the drawer open, came back with a condom. Apparently the man had a good memory. He held it out to her and she took it. Applied it slowly until he was panting with impatience again. And then she decided that he had the right idea and eased herself down on top of him.

The expression of mingled pleasure and relief on his face probably matched the one on hers.

He felt amazing buried deep inside her. Beyond amazing. He arched his hips beneath her, hands coming to her hips. She moved with him, bending forward to kiss him, losing herself once more in the taste of him. She wanted to take it slow but the hunger took her—took them both—and things turned wild. First she was above him and then, somehow, their positions reversed and reversed again. Alex gave as good as he got, fingers stroking her as he kept up the rhythm that drove her mindless and turned her into a mass of nerves and heat and the desperate desire for more. Once again, things blurred until she didn’t know exactly who was doing what. Knew only that she wanted it not to stop. Wanted more. Wanted it all until she got exactly that and the pleasure exploded through her with a rush that drove everything else out of her head and left her holding him while the world rushed away.

Chapter Sixteen

Alex left early the next morning but not without kissing her thoroughly, in a way that definitely kicked her brain into life. About fifteen minutes later, as she hit the lobby, intent on a loaded coffee and a bagel from the place across the street to back up Alex’s excellent work, she was startled by the sight of Will Sutter sprawled across one of the sofas in the foyer.

She didn’t move fast enough. The elevator doors dinged behind her as they slid closed. Will looked up and spotted her.

Crap. No pretending not to see him. She set her teeth, determined to get past him and on her way as soon as possible. He stood and stepped into her path. She stopped. Across the foyer she saw Dev watching them, a questioning frown pulling his face away from his normally cheerful smile. She shook her head at him, to let him know she didn’t need him to run interference just yet.

“Morning, Maggie,” Will said, with a smile that was about a quarter inch away from a smirk.

“Will,” she said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m late for something.”

“Well, now, Alex isn’t such a slave driver that he’s gonna mind you being a little late, is he?”

“What makes you think I’m going to work?”

“If Alex hasn’t got you all working this weekend, then the man’s an idiot.”

“Not many idiots run Fortune 500 companies,” she retorted.

“I think the history of the stock market might disagree with you on that,” Will said.

“What do you want, Will?”

“Like I said, I want to talk to you. Surely you can spare an old friend an hour or so.” He smirked again and Maggie gritted her teeth.

She opened her mouth to tell him where to go but he kept talking before she could get a word in.

“After all, Winters will need some time to get to Deacon himself given he only left here twenty minutes or so ago.”

Maggie’s stomach went cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Will shook his head. “Now, Maggie. Don’t play dumb. I saw him—”

“You were watching me?”

“He was leaving when I got here. Winters should be more discreet.”

Maggie’s brain whirled frantically, trying to think of an explanation for Alex being in her building first thing in the morning.

“Don’t bother denying it,” Sutter said, satisfaction oozing from the words. “Smart move, in my view. Sleep with the new boss, keep your job.”

Okay. So Will knew. The question was, what would he do with the information? In his place, she’d be contacting the press immediately. News about her and Alex would only work to his advantage if it was spun as something sleazy. Some of the team owners were pretty conservative. Not to mention the fact that some on the Saints team—and her dad—probably wouldn’t like the news. Which meant she needed to stall Will and, if at all possible, keep him on her side. “It’s not like that,” she said. Then, as Will’s expression turned skeptical, “You said you wanted to talk to me. So talk.”

Sutter glanced around, nodded his head in Dev’s direction. Dev wasn’t frowning anymore, but Maggie read his very controlled expression as concern and “do you need help?” She made a little “I’m okay” gesture at him before Will turned back to her.

“I’d prefer somewhere a bit more private. How about you ask me upstairs?” Will said.

“How about I not,” she said flatly. Keeping him on side was one thing but there was no way she was letting Will Sutter into her apartment.

“Then let me buy you breakfast,” Will said. “You have to eat.”

“I’m not interested in eating with you, Will,” she said. Her grip on polite was fading rapidly. But she clung on as best she could. “You’re kind of the enemy.”

“But I don’t have to be,” he said, his smile flashing wide. She was sure it was meant to be charming but it came off more like smarmy. “C’mon, Maggie. Give me an hour. I’ll buy you breakfast and you listen to what I have to say, and then you can tell me to go to hell if you want to.”

Maggie hesitated, biting back the desire to tell him to go to hell right that second and be on her way. Curiosity warred with common sense. What the hell was he up to? She wanted to kick his shins and tell him where to shove his offer of breakfast, but could she really turn down the chance to maybe get some information out of him about his bid and what it might take to get him to withdraw it? Sure, Alex and her dad would probably go bananas but she could handle that. This was a chance for her to help. To prove that she could play the game just as well as they could. “All right,” she said, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake. “One hour.”

She had to admit, Sutter was slick. He whisked her into a car and over to a small café a few blocks away where he was obviously known because the hostess promptly seated them in a very private back booth, presented menus, took orders, and then left them alone. The café wasn’t really the sort of place she pictured Sutter hanging out. He had a taste for the good life, she seemed to remember. The room they were in was sort of battered cozy chic crossed with retro diner.

“Do you come here often?” she asked

“The chef’s a Texan,” Will said with a nod. “Knows his stuff.”

Given Will had ordered an egg-white omelet, black coffee, and grapefruit, Maggie couldn’t really see what being Texan had to do with it, but she shrugged and nodded. “All right. You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”

“You don’t want to eat first?”

“Talk,” she said flatly. She’d ordered coffee and wheat toast. Right now, she felt like she’d probably choke on the toast, so she stuck to the coffee.

“A woman who gets right down to it. I like that.”

“I’m flattered,” she said, not meaning it. “Talk, Sutter.” She glanced down at her watch. “Because in about forty-five minutes I’m walking out the door.”

Will eased back against the booth, studied her a moment, twisting the heavy ring on his left index finger. The thing was a monstrosity, flashier than any World Series ring, with a
W
set out in diamonds. “Well, it’s like this,” he said. “I want you to come work for me.”

Maggie was thankful she’d finished her coffee. Or she would’ve spat it across the table. “I have a job.”

“Really?” Sutter said. “What exactly does Winters have you doing over there? Other than trotting you out for press conferences?”

“What I do isn’t any of your business,” Maggie said.

“I think it is. Because I’m guessing that what you’re doing isn’t exactly what you would’ve been doing if Tom was still running the show. I’m thinking you’ve gotta be pretty pissed at that fact. I’m thinking that you’re a woman with a very expensive education and a lifetime of experience with baseball that money can’t buy who’s been sidelined by a bunch of guys who don’t have a quarter of your pedigree.”

“Then you’re thinking wrong.”

He looked disbelieving. “If you say so. But what are you going to be doing for Alex once he’s got the team? Other than keeping him … entertained.”

“I think that comment pretty much sums up why working for you isn’t high on my list of priorities, Will,” she said, seeing red.

“I apologize for talking plainly about this, Maggie, but you see, I had something a bit more in line with your talents in mind.”

“Oh really. Like what?”

“I was thinking you could come on board as CEO.”

Holy shit. “Excuse me?”

“Wasn’t that the plan with you and Tom? That he was going to step down and you’d take over?”

“Well, yes. But not for a few years.”

Will shrugged. “You’ve got the knowledge you need. You can hire whoever you want to help you out while you find your feet.”

Run the Saints? Her ears were buzzing, making it hard to focus on what Will was saying. He wanted her to run the Saints? “Why me?”

“Because you’re the right woman for the job,” he said. “I don’t have time to be as hands-on as Tom was, so I’m planning on taking a more traditional owner’s role. Give you pretty much free rein to do what you want with the place.”

“Are you planning to move the team?”

He stabbed at his omelet, speared a piece, chewed and swallowed. “Does that mean you’re interested?”

No. Yes. No. Yes. Damn
. Sutter sucked but she’d have to be crazy not to consider the offer. Still, she wasn’t going to answer him right here and now. “I’d have to think about it.”

“I need an answer soon. You can’t string me along until you see what happens with the vote and then pick a side.”

“I can’t answer right away.”

“I can give you a couple of days.”

“Are you going to move the team?” she repeated.

“That’s something that’s up for discussion,” he said. “Obviously there are states that would be more convenient for me than New York but I’d be prepared to listen to other suggestions. From the right person.”

Double holy shit. He seemed deadly serious. Her mind raced as she tried to think. He wanted her to be CEO of the Saints. Her dream job. But it meant working for him. And here she’d been thinking that Alex was the devil incarnate. She had the feeling he’d just been ousted by Will.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, and raised her hand to summon the waitress and the check.

*   *   *

Acting more on instinct than anything else, Maggie headed for her apartment rather than work. She dropped her keys and purse and sank onto the sofa, mind still whirling. What had just happened? Sutter, offering her everything she’d ever wanted—except for the part about relocating the team, of course—that was what had happened.

Her stomach churned. She didn’t know if she was elated or sickened. Everything she’d ever wanted. The chance she’d always wanted.

Finally—
finally
—someone who seemed to believe that she could do the job she’d been raised to do.

But it was Sutter.

It was a big but, but not quite big enough for her to be able to reject the idea outright. She’d be crazy not to think about it. Wouldn’t she?

Yes
.

Her inner therapist was nodding vigorously.

Patient needs to evaluate all opportunities thoroughly. Patient should not reject options outright. Patient behaving like a mature adult for once. Go, patient!

But even with that weird bit of inner approval there was something else that was equally plain. She had to tell Alex about the offer. She owed the Saints—owed him—that much. Owed him honesty and respect, the same things he’d given her.

She clenched her hands, swallowing against a mouth suddenly gone dry. How would he take it? Would he see reason? Or just go nuts?

There was no way to tell. She thought she knew the core of the man, the part that lay beneath the slick exterior. The part that she couldn’t resist, despite her better judgment. But they hadn’t known each other long. Not long enough for her to be able to predict his reactions to anything.

He’d swung into action with the drive and precision of a general when he’d found out about Sutter’s bid. Obstacles were there to be analyzed and then ruthlessly overcome.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to be subjected to the same treatment if he came to view her as an obstacle, but she didn’t want to lie to him. That would definitely kill whatever the fledgling thing between them was.

And Sutter’s clock was ticking. Maybe in talking to Alex she’d be able to get a better idea of how she really felt about the offer.