Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(14)

As soon as the door shut behind her, he went into his private bathroom, locked the door, and undid his pants. Gripping the counter with his left hand, he closed out the world, a small smile slipping into place as he slid his right hand inside his pants, squeezing his erection. She was honest, fresh, sweet, and even better? Naughty as hell underneath those knee length pencil skirts and soft silk blouses.

He moved his hand faster, grunting as the pleasure made his balls tighten and pull up close to his body. The more frantically his hand moved, the more he pictured Maggie’s face as she came, and how she’d ridden his leg—until, letting out a long groan, he came, hard and fast. It wasn’t enough.

It wouldn’t be until he had Maggie in his arms again.





Chapter Four


The next night, Maggie couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a big mistake when she’d agreed to be her boss’s fake fiancée. This whole thing was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea. Ever since she’d agreed to pretend to be Mr. Gale’s fiancée, nothing had gone her way.

From the moment she’d woken up that morning to her eventful trip to the restaurant to meet Mr. Gale, it had been a day from hell. While she wasn’t exactly the superstitious type who read tea leaves or life lines on her palm, she couldn’t help but think it was an omen of things to come.

And it might be best to listen.

Even so. Here she was.

Being an idiot, yet again, over Benjamin Gale III.

She’d spent the day getting “made over” by her roommate and best friend, Becca, and the result had been quite stunning…even if she’d been burned by the curling iron three times to achieve it. She wore a light gold dress that looked as if it belonged in a ballroom instead of some fancy restaurant, and her heels were sky high. High enough to hurt her ankles and make her wobble unsteadily every now and then, but the pain was totally worth it. Her hair had been swept into a loose side braid, and she couldn’t help but feel like a princess.

She pulled out her phone. I’m almost there. Wish me luck.

You don’t need it. Becca replied quickly.

Maggie looked out the window. They were almost there. Are you going out?

Nope. I have a hot date with Netflix and a bottle of wine.

Wish I did, too. Maggie blew out a breath.

Becca didn’t reply back.

The cab she’d hired stopped outside a fancy restaurant that she’d never have set foot in on her own. A plate here cost the equivalent of a month’s worth of groceries for her. Luckily, she wouldn’t be paying. Her freaking rich fiancé would.

A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat, choking her.

“Oh, God,” she said out loud. “What were you thinking?”

She’d lied, and she’d have to deal with the consequences. Next time she wanted to swoop in and help someone out…she’d keep her stupid mouth shut.

No matter how hot the guy was.

Or how great a kisser.

Her stomach tightened when she remembered the way he’d made her combust in his office. She’d never, ever, come so hard, so fast, before. The way he touched her had made her whole body come to life, begging for more. It was all she’d been able to think about. But whatever. She’d be fine.

It wasn’t as if she needed another taste. Or even wanted one.

God, even she snorted at that bold lie.

Yesterday, after his knee brought her to heights she’d never seen, she’d been a quivering mess. Benjamin had stepped back, watching her with cool detachment. That had been the worst part about that mind-numbing kiss. Sure, he’d said all those things about them being a good team, and working together was a pleasure, blah blah blah, but his tone had been cool. Aloof. Uninterested.

Completely unreadable.

Just like him.

After taking a long, deep breath, she paid the cabbie and opened the door. She’d go in there, they would plot their strategy just like they did in a normal business meeting, and she would treat it like any other day in the office. That was the secret. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. As soon as she—

She stepped out and landed her best pair of heels in a big, dirty puddle of questionable origins. “Oh, come on.”

The cabbie turned in his seat. “There a problem?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

As she climbed from the cab, she smacked her head on the top of the car. This time she didn’t even bother to cry out, because she wasn’t even in the least bit surprised. It was just the way the day had been going. And would continue to go, from all appearances. She shut the cab door, and it pulled away…

Two seconds after she realized she’d left her purse in the backseat.

“Wait!” she screamed, raising her arm and chasing after him.

He stopped, and she managed to retrieve her purse in the nick of time. Hugging it to her chest, she closed her eyes and took a second.

Because, God, she needed a second.

“Come on, Maggie. You can do this. You’re not cursed, and it’s not an omen. Go in there, and it’ll be fine. It’s just another job.”

“You weren’t kidding, were you?” a slightly amused voice asked. “You really do like talking to yourself.”

She shook her head and wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow her, since that freaking meteorite had been a no-show last night. It would be better than whatever was coming next. “Sir?”