Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sloane
I barely get out, “Maddox—” before he’s on me.
His mouth finds mine in a hungry kiss, hands in my hair like he needs to feel all of me.
Suddenly I’m not thinking about the meeting or the board or anything but the weight of him pressing me back against my desk.
“This is a terrible idea,” I murmur as he tugs the hem of my blouse free from my skirt.
“Then stop me.”
I don’t.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, sets me down on the desk, and pushes my knees apart with his hips.
His mouth trails down my throat, his hand sliding under my skirt with that low growling sound I now know means he’s losing control.
I grip the edge of the desk, heat curling between my legs, pulse thundering. “Someone could walk by.”
“There’s no one here.”
His voice is a rasp as he kisses along my jaw, his fingers already finding me beneath my panties. “You’ve been in my head all damn day. Couldn’t think straight on the ice.”
“And this is your solution?”
“No,” he says, breath hot at my ear. “This is your punishment.”
I bite my lip to stifle a moan as he sinks two fingers inside me, curling them just right while his thumb circles exactly where I need him.
The desk shudders beneath me. My head tips back, my breath catching, a needy sound slipping free before I can swallow it down.
“You’re soaked for me,” he whispers, watching my face like it’s his favorite play. “And you’re gonna come on my fingers before I ever get my cock out.”
I dig my heels into the edge of the desk, everything inside me coiling tighter with every stroke. My hand fists in his shirt, dragging him closer until our mouths crash together again—hot, messy, and desperate.
And then I fall. Hard.
Silently, shaking, my body clenching around his fingers as I cling to him and ride it out.
Before I can even catch my breath, he’s unbuckling his belt.
“Thought this wasn’t a good idea,” I manage, still panting.
He gives me a look that’s pure trouble. “It’s a fucking terrible idea.”
He yanks me to the edge and drives into me in one long, hungry stroke.
I bite his shoulder to keep from crying out.
He sets a brutal rhythm, one hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, the other gripping my thigh as he pounds into me like doing so is the only way he can keep breathing.
My desk creaks. A pen rolls off and clatters to the floor.
All I can do is hold on.
He slams into me once, twice more and groans low in my ear as he comes, shuddering against me, burying his face in my neck like he wants to live there.
We stay like that for a second—bodies tangled, breath short, hearts wild.
Then he pulls back just enough to press a kiss to my jaw.
“We’ve got to be more careful,” I whisper, still trying to catch my breath.
He nods, brushing a hand down my thigh. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We really do.”
But neither of us moves for a moment.
When we finally do, there’s a silence between us, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Just quiet. Settled.
The kind of hush that comes after need is met, and something deeper is left behind.
I fix my skirt while Maddox buttons his pants. He grabs a tissue from the corner of my desk and wipes his hand, then catches my chin gently between his fingers, lifting my face to his.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice is still a little hoarse. “You?”
His mouth quirks. “Better now that I’ve seen you.”
I smile, but the weight of the day settles back on my shoulders.
The moment is over. The world’s creeping back in.
I turn toward my desk and start rearranging the mess we made. The pen that rolled off. The folder that nearly fell open.
The ownership binder I had out before he came in.
His voice comes softer now. “How was your day?”
I hesitate.
Tell him.
You should tell him.
But the words don’t come. Because once I say them, they’re real. And he already has enough pressure without taking on mine too.
I settle for a shrug as I start packing up my stuff. “Shitty. Meetings. Nothing exciting.”
That’s a lie. But only by omission.
Because the board meeting was a mess.
I replay it like a silent reel in my mind as I straighten the files.
Dean had that smug look on his face the entire time. He’s gunning for a vote of no confidence if the team doesn’t hit Q1 performance metrics.
And I already know he’s talking to the legacy members behind my back.
“You don’t have the experience,” one of them said.
“You’re gambling with the franchise,” another warned.
I sat there in that glass-walled room with every credential I’ve ever earned stacked in front of me and still had to justify my ownership, my decisions, and Maddox’s contract like I was a teenager playing dress-up with Daddy’s checkbook.
They don’t see me.
They never will.
“Hey.” Maddox’s voice cuts through the memory.
I blink and turn.
He’s watching me, eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Just tired.” I force a smile. “It’s been a long day.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
But he nods.
Then his expression softens a little, mouth curving into something close to a smile. “You free tomorrow tonight?”
My brow lifts. “You planning another desk ambush?”
He chuckles. “No sex. Just dinner. My place.”
“Dinner?”
“Actual food. Conversation. You get to learn how I became this charming.”
I laugh. “What’s the catch?”
He shrugs. “No catch. Wednesday is the beginning of a road trip, and I just want to spend some time with you. So, you show up. We eat. We talk. That’s it.”
That shouldn’t make my heart skip, but it does.
Because this is Maddox trying. This is him letting me in without letting me fix him first.
“I’d like that,” I say quietly.
His grin turns slow and sure, then just like that, it fades a little. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
My smile falters. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
I hesitate, glancing at the window. “There are cameras.”
“I know.” He opens the door but doesn’t touch me. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
He holds the door for me, letting me go first. I school my face and even out my expression.
Because I feel like floating.
But I can’t.
Not here.
We head down the hall side by side, the space between us charged in a way no one would guess.
And still, I want to reach for him.
His hand brushes close to mine once, and even though he doesn’t touch me, I swear I feel it anyway—like static on skin, like the warning before a storm.
Neither of us speaks.
The elevator ride is short and silent, filled with fluorescent light and unsaid things.
When the doors open to the executive lot, he steps out first, scanning the perimeter like it’s instinct. Like he always has to stay alert.
Like being seen with me would put a target on both our backs.
I lead the way across the pavement toward my car, heels echoing in the quiet.
The breeze catches my hair and flutters it against my cheek, and I feel him watching me as I tuck it behind my ear.
“Here,” I say as we reach my car. I click the key fob. The lights blink. The locks chirp.
He doesn’t reach for me. Doesn’t lean in.
But his eyes burn into mine like he wants to.
“Wait for me here, and I’ll follow you,” he says, low.
“Okay.”
There’s a pause.
A long one.
Like we’re both waiting for something neither of us can do.
The silence pulls tight around us, weighted with the kiss we don’t dare have and the touch we can’t risk.
I grip my purse tighter.
“I’ll see you at The Apex,” he says finally.
I nod. “Okay.”
Another beat. His jaw tics.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow tonight,” he adds, softer now.
My chest clenches.
“Me too,” I whisper.
He steps back then. Just one step. Just enough to let me go.
I open the car door and get in, hands trembling more than I’d like.
When I glance up, he’s walking toward his car, but looking over his shoulder at me.
The drive home only takes ten minutes.
He follows me the whole way, headlights two cars behind like a shadow I invited.
We don’t text. We don’t call.
But when I park in the garage at The Apex, he’s right there, pulling into his usual spot like this is normal.
Like we’ve done it a hundred times before.
I grab my bag and head to the elevator, pulse thudding with every step.
He doesn’t rush to catch up. Just falls into step beside me like we’ve been walking together forever.
The elevator dings, and we step inside.
I swipe my card and press PH.
He presses seven.
A charged silence wraps around. Like there’s a string pulled tight between us, vibrating with every breath I take.
We stand apart from each other, me on one side, him on the other. It’s like we know if we’re too close, we’ll do something to get us caught.
He doesn’t say anything, and I’m too aware of the fact that we’re alone in a box with mirrors and secrets and nowhere to put either.
The elevator glides past the second floor, and stops at the third.
The doors slide open and Jace Rourke is on the other side.
Holy shit.
He clocks both of us immediately. His eyes flick from me to Maddox and back again.
“Evening,” he says.
I manage a tight smile. “Hey, Jace.”
Maddox gives him a nod. “Cap.”
He steps in, earbuds out, towel slung around his neck, water bottle in hand. Judging by his shirtless chest, gym shorts and running shoes, he’s headed to the fifth floor fitness center.
Pressing the fifth floor button, he just leans back against the mirrored wall, one brow raised like he’s taking mental notes.
No one says anything else.
The tension shifts—less electric now, more watchful. I can feel Maddox’s posture shift, can feel Jace observing both of us like he already suspects.
The elevator stops at five.
“Have a good night,” Jace says as he steps out.
The doors close.
It’s just us again.
I exhale slowly, staring straight ahead. “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.”
Maddox’s voice is low and rough. “You handled it.”
“I know, but…”
“You didn’t panic either.”
“No,” I murmur, glancing sideways. “I’m saving that for later.”
He gives the smallest smile, just a flicker.
When the doors open at his floor, he doesn’t move to leave.
Not yet.
His eyes find mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Looking forward to it.”
He nods once, then steps into the hallway. The doors close behind him, sealing off whatever that just was.
I blow out a breathe and as I ride up to the Penthouse floor, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to survive a date with Maddox Lasker without falling deeper.