Chapter 15 Adrian
Adrian
Ihit the space bar, and the laptop screen erupts with another fresh disaster. I stare at a flag from the legal team, this one marked escalate immediately. I grit my teeth, but then stop, exiting out of it. I should be focused.
But no. Instead, I’m coming un-fucking-glued, and there’s one reason for it.
Madison Williams.
I am not a man who obsesses. My only vices are work and the absolute annihilation of my competitors, and I built Modern Edge to satisfy those needs. I never gave a shit who the assistants were or what they wore, let alone let them get under my skin.
But I notice everything about Maddy.
And what is currently bothering me is not her work ethic or the way she manages the calendar better than I can. It’s that, lately, Beck and Caleb have become obsessed, too. Like we’ve all developed an interest in absolutely everything she does.
I saw it at the staff meeting today, in the way they both zeroed in when she coughed, and immediately offered her a water.
The way Beck’s gaze lingered on her mouth, the way Caleb hovered, subtly at first, and then not subtly at all.
And—here’s the kicker—the way she responded, with her cute little smile and crimson-tinged cheeks.
She’s enjoying their attention. There’s no doubt about it.
I want to believe it’s just in my head, and that I’m not really seeing what I think I am. She seems to love talking to them.
But every time I run into her, she acts as if I might fire her on the spot.
I’m fucking jealous of the way she seems so relaxed with them.
I’m halfway through my mental conniption when a soft knock makes me look up. It’s after five, and she should be gone by now, but there’s Maddy, holding a cup of coffee and a folder with a single pink sticky note.
“I know you need these to straighten up the legal mess over those permits,” she says. I take in her dark blue form-fitting dress and her hair up in some kind of twist. There’s a confidence to the way she moves now that wasn’t there when she first started working here.
She sets the coffee next to my laptop, then places the folder exactly where the old one was. She knows how I like things to be, and it’s fucking torture in the best way.
“I figured you’d want coffee too,” she hums.
I glance at the folder, then back to her. She’s waiting for a reprimand, or a compliment, or a sign that she can relax.
I give her none of it.
Instead, I study her for a few seconds, which is long enough to see her jaw tense and then relax. The sight of her warring with herself is so fucking satisfying.
Madison rocks back on her heels. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you,” I say, and my voice sounds weird. I pick up the coffee. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.
She hesitates, like she might leave, but then speaks. “You might want to check page six. There’s a discrepancy in the clauses.”
This should make me furious. No one catches those. But the fact that she did—it’s fucking impressive.
“Show me,” I say, and push my chair back.
She comes around the desk, leaning in to point out the problem. Her sleeve brushes my wrist, and it’s like a current of electricity shoots through my forearm.
Fuck, I hate how she gets to me.
“Here,” she says, and her finger lands exactly on the spot. “They don’t make it clear about the boundaries.”
I should say something, but I just nod and watch her face, the way her mouth tightens when she’s trying not to smile at her own cleverness.
Our eyes meet, and there’s a moment where neither of us looks away. I finally break eye contact, flipping the folder open to verify. It’s exactly as she said.
I make a note, then close the file. “Good catch,” I say, more clipped than I intend.
She doesn’t move away. “Should I send it back to the legal team?”
I purse my lips, thinking about it for a second. “Let me go through it first. I want to see what else they missed.”
She nods, then finally steps back, but only just enough to hover at the edge of the desk. I can feel her watching me, waiting for some sign that she did the right thing.
I realize my tie is off-center and reach to fix it. My hand is unsteady. Shit.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
She glances down, then back up, and I see the wheels turning in her pretty little head. “No, I don’t think so,” she says finally. “Unless you want me to stay late and double-check the rest.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “I can handle it.”
She doesn’t argue. She just lingers, then nods once and heads for the door.
I should let her go. But my mouth moves before I make that decision.
“Maddy.”
She stops and turns back to me.
I stand, feeling the blood pound in my ears. I am not impulsive. I do not act without thinking it through.
But I can’t hold back anymore.
I cross the room in three steps and stop, close enough that I can see the tiny pores of her skin, the faintest shimmer of mascara on her lashes. She looks up at me, her chin tilted, her lips parted like she’s about to say something and then thinks better of it.
“You’re doing well here. You’re not like the others,” I say, and immediately want to take it back because of how pathetic it sounds.
She blinks, a flush creeping up her neck. “I hope not.”
I want to step back, to put a desk or a wall or a continent between us. But I stand there, willing myself to recall every HR policy I’ve ever drafted.
But I still lean in, my fingers brushing her jaw, and for a second, I think she might run, but she doesn’t. She leans in, just barely, and that’s all it takes.
I fucking kiss her.
The folder slips from my grip and hits the floor.
I hear the papers scatter, but don’t care.
My other hand is on her waist, pulling her into me, and she yields, her body soft against mine.
Her lips are hungry and unsure, and when she gasps, I take the opening, devouring her mouth until her fingers clutch my arms.
This is what I’ve been waiting for.
I guide her back to my desk, shove the remaining clutter aside, and lift her onto it. She’s breathing hard, but pulls me in, grabs the back of my neck, and keeps her mouth against mine.
My hands are everywhere—her back, her hips, her thighs—and I realize I’m losing it. My heart hammers in my chest, and my cock is throbbing to the point of nearly exploding in my fucking pants.
I hike her skirt to her waist, and she helps me, biting her lip as I slide her forward to the edge of the desk.
I drop to my knees, inhaling the scent of her sweet little pussy. I press my face to her, kiss along the seam of her panties until she moans, and then slide them down, watching her for any sign of doubt.
There is none.
I press her thighs apart and bury my face in her. Her scent is clean, sweet, and the first lick sends a shudder through her whole body. I flatten my tongue, working slow, patient circles, then switch to short, fast flicks on her clit until she’s whimpering and grabbing fistfuls of my hair.
“Oh my god, Adrian,” she whimpers, her hips grinding against my face. She clings to me as she moves, and I dig my nails into the tops of her legs, desperately lapping her up.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted,” I groan into her.
I lose myself, licking and sucking, and then pushing two fingers inside her, fucking her slow as she rocks against me.
The sound of her breathing, the small cries she can’t suppress, the way her muscles tense—all of it drives me crazy.
I want to make her come so hard she forgets her own goddamn name.
“You’re so sweet,” I murmur into her center. “I want you to come all over my face.”
She lets out a moan, and it happens faster than I expect. She locks her legs around my head, hips grinding, and then she clamps down on my fingers, the first pulse of her orgasm so strong, it sends out a gush of moisture.
“Adrian,” she gasps my name, her breath hitching.
I don’t stop. I keep licking up every drop of her and keep curling my fingers until she’s begging me.
“Please, Adrian, please…”
Only then do I stand, wipe my mouth, and look at her.
She has a wild look in her eyes, and her face is flushed. Her chest heaves as her eyes watch me.
Fuck. I need to be inside of her.
I unbuckle my belt and release my cock. She reaches for it, wrapping her hand around the shaft. But I don’t give her a chance to jerk me off.
I drag her forward, line up, and push into her hot pussy.
“Oh fuck!” I nearly explode in the first thrust.
She’s wet, tight, and still throbbing from the orgasm.
I brace her hips, hold her still, and fuck her, hard and fast, right from the beginning.
The friction is so good I want to come immediately, but I hold back, watching her face contort with pleasure, wanting to see every expression as I break her apart.
“You like that?” I demand, as my hips slam into hers.
“Yes,” she meets my thrusts, biting her lip to muffle the sound. The desk rocks under us. The skyline is visible over her shoulder, and I realize anyone in the world could see us, and I don’t give a shit.
I pull out of her then, spin her and bend her over the desk, pressing her cheek to the cool surface. I slam into her from behind, grabbing her ass with both hands, spreading her so I can watch my cock disappear inside her over and over.
I slap her ass cheek, once, twice, just to see what she does, and she gasps, arching back into me.
It’s too fucking much. I can’t hold back.
I grab a fistful of her hair, pull her head back so I can whisper into her ear. “You’re so fucking good, Maddy. This is all I’ve thought about since you walked in here.”
She moans, the sound muffled by the desk, and I lose it, coming hard, hips stuttering as I fill her. I stay buried inside until the throbbing stops, then pull out, watching the mess drip down her thighs.
For a second, I just stand there, staring at her beautiful body.
But then… the shame hits.
I can’t believe I let this happen.
I step back, tug up my pants, and fumble for my tie.
I avoid her eyes as I fix myself, straightening my clothes with mechanical movements, just going through the motions.
She’s still bent over the desk, recovering, her hair covering her face, and I want to say something, anything, to make it less brutal.
“This was a fuck up.”
She turns, rights her skirt, and looks at me, eyes wide, searching my face. “Um… what?” Her voice cracks.
I clear my throat. “This can’t happen again.”
She blinks, “I don’t understand.”
“It was a mistake, Maddy.”
She opens her mouth, but then clamps it shut, shaking her head at me. She pulls herself together, smoothing her dress.
I walk back to my chair, sit, and stare at the computer screen as if I’ve never seen a spreadsheet before. I can’t bring myself to look up at her, terrified that I might see something that makes me… feel.
She lingers for a moment, then turns and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.
The silence after is suffocating.
I sit there, hands gripping the arms of my chair so hard my knuckles go white, listening to the hammer of my own pulse.
She’s the only person who’s ever made me lose control. The only one who’s ever even come close. And I have no idea how the fuck I’m going to deal with her.
But I know one thing is for certain… I sure as hell can’t fire her.