Page 123 of Billionaire Bachelor
My body stiffened as I realized I was on the losing end of this debate. “Budget hotel chains.”
He flashed a self-righteous grin. “Right again. And what type of hotel chain are we?”
I had to consciously fight the desire to curl my fists. “We are a luxury hotel chain, sir. As you already know.”
“Of course, I know.” He undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up. “But it seems like you need constant reminders lately.”
“I can assure you that I do not.”
I could feel my face flushing in anger and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Once I was this riled up, it was almost impossible to conceal my emotions. I was normally an expert at keeping my cool when Mr. Maxwell pushed my buttons, but insulting my intelligence was the exception to that, it seemed. It was a line he had never crossed before, so I was a bit off-kilter.
He laughed mockingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Okay, that was the last straw. I had officially reached my limit. “You’re an asshole.”
Holy shit! I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud.
Mr. Maxwell’s ears reddened as he took a few steps toward me. “What did you say, Miss Montgomery?”
I propped a hand on my hip. “You heard me.”
He took one more step and gripped the edge of the desk on each side of me, effectively caging me in. “Let’s say I didn’t. Go ahead and repeat what you said. I fucking dare you.”
Well, crap, there was no sense in backing down now. My pride wouldn’t allow it. I tilted my chin up and looked him directly in the eyes. “I said, you’re an asshole. Surely that’s not the first time someone’s called you that.”
The look he gave me as he rolled my words around in his head was sinful. Predatory, even. I could feel the flood of arousal in my panties, but I remained aloof on the surface. It was probably only a handful of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as we engaged in a silent showdown. I didn’t know which one of us lunged first, but before I knew it, our lips were pressed against each other’s.
I gasped when I felt his hand on my hip, which he took as an open invitation to invade my mouth with his tongue. After that, all hope of pretending this wasn’t happening was gone. Damn, Ronan Maxwell knew how to own a woman’s mouth. I’d imagined kissing him hundreds of times—maybe even thousands—but nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality. He teased me with his tongue, nibbled on my lips, commanded every move. He kissed like he did everything—with pure alpha male dominance. I had never been as willing to submit to someone’s will as I was now. As our mouths moved against each other’s, his thumb inched perilously close to my ass. Fingers clenched around the stretchy fabric of my skirt, as if he were resisting the urge to rip it off my body.
God, I wanted him to rip it off of my body.
I didn’t think I had ever wanted to mount someone and ride them off into the sunset as badly as I did now. A million thoughts raced through my head at once. What was he thinking? Did he feel the same jolt of electricity running through his veins? Why, after two years, did he decide to touch me? From the moment we met, this man had gone out of his way to avoid physical contact. This—whatever it was—was undoubtedly intentional. And as much as I hated to admit it, incredibly arousing.
Mr. Maxwell’s hand wandered down the side of my thigh to the hem of my skirt. When his thumb glided from side to side over the back of my leg, shivers raced down my spine.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” his deep voice rumbled.
“So many things,” I whispered.
His hand climbed higher, dangerously close to discovering how wet my panties were. “Would you like me to stop?”
My brain was screaming, Yes! Run out of the room, dumbass! while my head was shaking emphatically.
“I need the words, Miss Montgomery.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew this was crazy. I knew this was stupid. But I couldn’t tell him to stop if my life had depended on it. “Don’t stop.”
Mr. Maxwell released a harsh exhale. “Thank fuck.”
When I met his gaze, his blue eyes were filled with questions, with unrestrained desire. I couldn’t sort out how I felt about that. I’d spent the last two years fantasizing about this man. Sure, some of those fantasies involved throwing my Jimmy Choos at his forehead, but mostly, they were sexual in nature. Deeply sexual in nature. Frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream.
But then I remembered that my dreams never felt this real. I had never felt the warmth of his touch. Never smelled the spiciness of his cologne. Never heard my pulse pounding in my ears. No, this was very much happening, and I was an all-too-willing participant. Lord help me, but I was so on board with this plan, no matter how fucked up it was.
Mr. Maxwell leaned into my body, causing me to bend slightly backward to maintain eye contact. Even wearing five-inch heels, the man still towered over me. Damn, he really was a giant. It was even more apparent standing so close to him.
I braced my hands on the edge of his desk when he reached out with two fingers and traced the length of my jaw. He continued down the slope of my neck and across the width of my collarbone. When he feathered them against the side of my breast, I moaned, making his sexy lips curl up in the corners. With both hands now resting at the curve of my waist, Mr. Maxwell lifted me onto the wooden surface, causing my skirt to ride up my thighs.
We both watched as he bunched the material in his hands, slowly pushing it toward my waist until my satin blue panties were revealed. My body was on autopilot, parting my legs without question, allowing him to look his fill. His breathing quickened and his eyes sparkled when he noticed the obvious wet spot.
