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  Max

  (Her Dominant Boss #2)

  by

  K. R. Max

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  http://krmaxwrites.wordpress.com

  Cover design by KR Max.

  Author's Note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Max: Her Dominant Boss #2

  Shay

  I clutch my glass of lukewarm champagne as Harry Hennessy takes the stage. Around me, the employees of Hennessy’s Hotel and Conference Center fall silent. We may pretend to be here for the champagne and free buffet, but that's not the real reason.

  Well, it’s not mine.

  Hennessy throws two big parties a year, one in the summer and one at Christmas. It’s the beginning of June, schools are out, and we’re all gathered on the rooftop terrace at the Carnegie Ridge Park Hotel, ostensibly enjoying the free food and drink.

  I’ve barely eaten anything and the half glass of champagne I knocked back about twenty minutes ago for Dutch courage is already warming my blood. This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for, the moment I got a little drunk trying to prepare for. I’m about to finally, finally, get the job I really want, the job I’ve been working towards since graduating high school.

  Hennessy looks around and smiles, keen to make us wait, to draw out the tension until someone starts crying. Okay, that would be me. Because I’ve applied for the Events Coordinator job three times now. They say the third time’s the charm, right? I’ve worked for Hennessy since graduating high school. I know the venue like the insides of my own eyelids. Six years I’ve worked here, and when the Events Coordinator job first opened up, four years ago, I went for it, only to discover that two years of experience on the job didn’t qualify me. So two years ago, when it opened up again, I applied again.

  Still not enough experience.

  It’s been six years. I’ve been here longer than every other applicant, most of whom applied straight out of college. I’ve put in immensely long hours and never asked for a raise. I’ve taken on every challenge that’s ever been thrown at me, well, at my manager who then usually passed it down to me, and I triumphed every time. I’ve got the experience, the client relation skills, and relationships with every vendor in the city who provides products and services for Hennessy events. This job is mine.

  Mine.

  “I know you’re all keen to know who our new Events Coordinator will be, since Mitchell Haynes is now moving on to bigger and better things. So, without further ado, it gives me great pleasure to announce, the new Events Coordinator is…”

  Hennessy’s eyes land on me and skate away before I can smile in response. Something settles in my belly, cold and hard, and I push the sensation away. This is it. My dream job. Right in the palm of my han—

  “Kelley Riker.”

  I stare at him, then at Kelley’s perfect chestnut curls as she bounces up to the stage to shake Hennessy’s hand. She turns and smiles at us all, and I want to vomit. She’s the same age as me and has been working here for about six months, having bounced around a bit after, as she put it, ‘drinking and napping’ her way through college. She can’t remember anything but never writes anything down. I’ve ended up doing most of her work as well as mine.

  What the fuck?

  Hennessy steps down off the stage, and I shoulder my way through the crowd to plant myself squarely in front of him. I’m a larger girl, so I’m hard to ignore, but he does his best. Right up to the moment where I lose my patience and grab his arm.

  “Mr. Hennessy,” I manage to grind out between my teeth, then dial back my temper. I can’t yell at my boss. As frustrated as I am in my job, constantly picking up for people who know way less than I do, I do need a job. And I’m good at this one. I just wish someone would actually reward me for that. “Mr. Hennessy, what makes Kelley more qualified than me for the Events Coordinator position?”

  He has the grace to look embarrassed, as well he might, since he all but told me the job was mine when I interviewed for it. “I’m really sorry, Shay. I know how much this job would have meant to you, but the fact is, she has a college degree.”

  I stare at him, my jaw on the floor. “Six years of experience doesn’t count for anything?”

  “Of course it does, Shay, don’t be ridiculous. But I discussed it with the board, and we agreed that college prepares workers for management in a way that experience in lower level positions simply doesn’t. I’m very sorry, but that’s the policy now.”

  Spoken like a man who went to college. I blink back the tears, only too aware of what he’s saying, what this means for me. I’ll never rise above Events Assistant, no matter how much experience I get. And it doesn’t matter that six years ago, I was all set to go to Yale.

  All that matters to the board is that I didn’t go. I didn’t graduate. I didn’t get a piece of paper which is apparently worth more than all my experience put together. Fury coils in my belly as I realize, once again, my future has been stolen by a man in an expensive suit. Only in this case, I work for the asshole in question.

  My jaw tightens. I will not cry in front of this man who thinks I’m some kind of lower class citizen just because I didn’t go to college. I won’t.

  I’ll wait until I’m alone in the elevator, like any self-respecting woman.

  Of course, standing in the elevator, hot tears running down my face, the door pings open just a few floors down. I scrub my face dry, losing my grip on my purse and sending it crashing to the floor just as the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen steps inside, wearing a very expensive suit.

  ***

  Max

  I do my best to ignore the curvy blonde currently pretending she hasn’t just been crying her eyes out as she picks up her things. I can’t hold up the pretence for long, though, and I stoop and hand her a dark blue pen which looks as if it’s made of glass, then stand and move away. She clearly doesn’t want any attention, although I would imagine she’s used to receiving it. Even in the hideous skirt suit she’s wearing, her body is spectacular enough to turn a man’s head at forty paces.

  I also didn’t miss the way her lip curled when she registered my Kiton suit. I should be glad she’s not interested in a man with money, but with a surname instantly recognizable around the world, I’m more intrigued than anything. A woman who doesn’t find billionaires attractive? Why aren’t there more of those in this city?

  I shake my head and force myself to focus on the huge problem my mother just dumped in my lap. Which is actually unfair of me, because it’s entirely my fault. If I hadn’t been so busy trying to avoid the attentions of my last assistant, I might have realized she wasn’t doing the work she was being paid to do. Namely, organize the annual Lupin Family Foundation Midsummer Gala.

  Now the gala is three weeks away, and all we have is a venue, and that’s only because the foundation has been holding its parties at the same place for over twenty years, so the date is permanently booked. However, nothing else is in place. No vendors, no caterers, nothing.

  My mother is not pleased.

  “I’m not saying you’re to blame, Maximilian, but she was your assistant, and I had expected you to take more interest in the organization of this year’s gala anyway. Instead, you handed the job off to some floozy who was more interested in landing a rich hu
sband than organizing our biggest fundraising event. I don’t need to tell you what the consequences will be if this event doesn’t go ahead.”

  Her words ring in my ears even as the hum of the elevator rises around us. I suddenly realize the mechanical whine has risen to an uncomfortable pitch, but there’s no time to question it before there’s a crunch and the elevator jerks to a halt. In the same moment, the lights blink out, plunging us into darkness.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  I smile, even as my cock twitches at the sound of her voice, strong and musical. “Relax,” I tell her. “It’s probably just a power glitch. The lights will come on again in a second.”

  Several seconds pass, and I swear I can feel her glaring at me.

  “You were saying?”

  She swallows, loud enough for me to hear it where I’m standing several feet away, and I realize she’s scared. Doing her best to control it, which is admirable, particularly as most women of my acquaintance would be screaming blue murder by now, but still scared.

  “Here,” I say, “walk towards me.”

  “Why?”

  I’ve rarely heard a more suspicious tone directed my way. Well, not since I stopped playing pranks on my brothers as a child. Mother would be proud. Forcing myself to repress a sigh, I hold out my hand, then remember she can’t see it, which is the problem. God, Lupin, get a grip.

  “Because if you’re scared of the dark, or small spaces, or both, you can hold my hand, and it will help.”

  There follows a long silence, then I hear her move. Fabric brushes against my fingertips, but my hand closes on nothing. Instead, I hear her pressing buttons, and I smile. Smart girl. She’s bypassed the comfort portion of the evening and has moved straight into problem-solving, in spite of her fear. I’m impressed.

  I’m also a little surprised at how disappointed I am. I hadn’t realized until this moment how much I was looking forward to experiencing the texture of her skin.

  And now my brain has gone somewhere entirely inappropriate, and I’m damn glad it’s dark in here.

  “Hello, can you hear me?” A disembodied voice addresses us.

  “Yes! I mean, yes,” she says, lowering her tone from its initial shriek. “The elevator just stopped, and the lights have gone out.”

  “Okay, I’m really sorry about that. There was some issue with the power, but the lights should have come on again by now. We’re checking the emergency generator now. How many of you are in there?”

  “Two.”

  “Any medical issues we should know about?”

  “Well it wouldn’t do you much good if there were, would it?” she mutters quietly, making me chuckle. Raising her voice, she responds, “No, we’re fine.”

  “Okay. Give us a minute to get the lights back on. I’m waiting on an ETA from the fire department.”

  “Okay.”

  Her voice trembles, and this time I can’t help myself. I move towards her, and my hand finds her arm. She gasps, then reluctantly reaches for me, her hands brushing down my chest until she suddenly snatches them back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was enjoying that.”

  She makes a disgusted sound and goes to pull away, but I keep a firm grip of her arm. Okay, it was an asshole thing to say. I was hoping to lighten the situation with humor. Clearly, that was the wrong way to go.

  Still, she may be too proud to want to take comfort from a stranger, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s right. I slide my hand down to hers, then interlock our fingers. There’s a click, and suddenly the lights come on. The look on her face is a gift, such relief, and it makes something tighten in my gut. I don’t want her to be sad or scared, but I’m not going to think too closely about why. She’s not mine to take care of.

  Not yet, anyway.

  The radio crackles and the tinny voice makes her jump. I rub my thumb over her palm to calm her, and she stares at her hand, then at my face. Her eyes are a luminous green, and I find myself falling into them. She seems just as intent on my face as I am on hers, so that we both miss what’s being said by the emergency technician.

  “I’m sorry.” I suddenly realize someone asked a question. “What was that?”

  “I said, it’s going to be about an hour before the fire department can get here. Are you guys going to be okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, without thinking, then I look at her face. The click of the radio going dead emphasizes the lost look in her eyes, and her lips tremble. She looks like she’s about to burst into tears, and I can only think of one thing to do about it, which is cover her mouth with mine.

  I only meant to distract her, but the moment my lips touch hers, all conscious thought evaporates. Soft and warm and pliant. At first she freezes, but then her mouth opens on a moan, and I need no second invitation. I groan, plunging my tongue into the hot, sweet, welcoming cavern of her mouth, sliding my hands into her hair and tilting her head to give me greater access.

  I pull back. She stares at me, confusion filling her eyes. As much as I want to drown myself in her, though, there’s one thing I have to know first.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  She frowns. “Yes, what?”

  “Do you want this?” I ask her. I’m a thousand per cent sure she’s with me right now, but a gentleman never makes assumptions about such things, and my mother raised me to be a gentleman.

  I see the moment where she struggles with her conscience. After all, we’re strangers, although not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it.

  “Fuck it,” she says. “Yes.”

  I grin, then back her against the wall of the elevator, letting her feel just how much I want her. I smile against her lips as she gasps, then revel in the feel of her hands sliding across my shoulders. She clings to me as her tongue duels with mine, slick heat sliding in my mouth, shooting bolts of sensation right down my spine, straight to my cock.

  I move closer and pull her hands off my shoulders, pinning them to the wall above her head so that I can stand back and admire her. Her chest heaves as she gasps for air, and I can barely resist the temptation to rip that ugly, high collared shirt off her and bare her magnificent breasts to my gaze. I am aware, however, that we’re in an elevator, not a private home, and we still have to get back to my apartment after we leave here.

  It’s not a question. I’m already drunk on this woman, and I’ve barely touched her. An hour isn’t going to be enough, and I can tell it’s the same for her, too. Her face is flushed, her eyes sparkling with passion, and her body writhes before me, desperate for my touch, her hands tugging at my iron grip. I may not be able to get her naked in here, I do have some standards, and this is my mother’s building, but there are other things I can do. Pleasurable things. Highly pleasurable things.

  I slip my fingers into her collar, and her eyes widen as I free a button, then another, moving south slowly, as slowly as I can, opening her shirt, revealing her smooth, creamy curves. My fingers drift over the upper swells of her breasts, and her eyes drift shut, her head falling back. Then I pinch a hardened nipple through the lace of her bra, and she yelps, her eyes flying open. A moment later, a desperate moan fills the air as I wrap my lips around her nipple and suck.

  The tip is hard and swollen between my lips, against my tongue, and it makes me want to bite. So I do, and I’m rewarded with her body jerking against me and another moan which has my cock slamming against my zipper. Damn, this woman is so hot, so needy, and I’m only just getting started.

  I pull her bra down and feast on her breast, reveling in the sexy, desperate sounds falling from her mouth. Her body twists against me, pushing her flesh against my tongue, my teeth, and I lick and suck and nibble until she’s begging for more.

  “You want more, Princess?” I ask her, my voice deeper than usual, rough with the effort of holding back. I want to lift her skirt and drive into her, filling her with my cock until we’re both sated and sweaty and exhausted, but I can’t. Not here.

  “Please,” she
says again. “Please…”

  I’m not sure she even knows what she’s saying, but the lady wants more, and far be it from me to deny her. I skim a hand down her body, dipping into the curve of her waist and out again over her hip, then down a firm, lush thigh until I reach the hem of her skirt. I lift it and thank God she’s not wearing panty hose. Not that that would have stopped me, but I’d feel bad for ruining her clothes.

  Maybe.

  I run my fingers up the inside of her thigh, glorying in her soft, smooth skin. Then I raise my head, wanting to see her face as my fingers brush over her core, covered only with a thin layer of soaking wet cotton.

  Her eyes fly open, and she jerks against me, my hand and body keeping her firmly imprisoned against the wall.