Bossy Brit Page 4

  Despite my nervousness, deep down I feel like things are going to go well. Being around Liam is definitely a hormonal roller-coaster, but there’s something about him that makes me feel like everything about our taboo hookup is going to be okay. Our relationship might not be conventional, but he’s definitely the most put-together guy I’ve seen in a while.

  I see Liam pull up as I glance out the window, and I check myself out in the mirror one last time. I take a deep breath before heading outside. There’s no turning back now. Liam and I are about to find out once and for all if this thing between us could be more than just an office fling.

  Chapter Six

  Liam

  “Dad, can we stay longer?” Charlie asks, licking the last drops of syrup off his fingers.

  “Sorry, buddy, but we have to get you back to your mom’s house,” I tell him, reaching over to wipe his face with a napkin.

  It’s Lexi’s weekend with the kids, and if I drop them off late again, she’s going to fly off the handle.

  “Mom won’t be mad,” he whines, curling up in his chair.

  I almost want to laugh, since that’s the understatement of the year, but I plaster a smile on and ruffle his hair.

  “We’ll hang out next week, okay?”

  Charlie nods sadly. Every time I drop them off at my ex’s house, it breaks my heart. I’d never say anything bad about her in front of them, but as human beings go, she’s one of the more vindictive ones I’ve met.

  Of course, she waited until after I’d put a ring on it to show me that side of her.

  I finish cleaning up the mess from the homemade waffles I made the kids for breakfast, then I kneel down on the floor to inspect the twins, cleaning off their faces and adjusting their dresses. If even one hair is out of place, I’m going to get an earful from Lexi about my negligent parenting.

  “Okay everybody, let’s get off then,” I say, lifting the twins and slinging their overnight bag over one shoulder.

  As we drive to their mom’s house I put on the latest Disney soundtrack they’re obsessed with. Charlie can’t get enough of it, pretending to play a guitar as he sings along.

  “Dad, sing with me,” he begs, and finally I give in, belting out the theme song like I’m Bruno Mars. Charlie has a way of getting me to loosen up, and after a long tense week at the office there’s nothing better than spending time with him and the girls. I don’t want the ride to end, but soon enough we pull up to the house.

  Lexi’s already waiting by the front door, her arms crossed. I brace myself, sure she’s got something on her mind. I’m not easily shaken up, but Lexi has a special talent for making me want to lose my shit. Good times.

  I help Charlie out of his booster seat and set him on the sidewalk next to the bags before I get the girls out of their car-seats. They each take one of my hands as we head up the sidewalk to the front door.

  “You’re late,” Lexi says, raising an eyebrow.

  What did she want me to do? Take their plates away at breakfast before they were finished eating? Bloody hell.

  “There was a little traffic. I’m only five minutes late,” I say, keeping my tone measured.

  She’s wearing a fitted green turtleneck that matches her emerald eyes and tight black jeans. Her red hair is pulled up into a ponytail, accentuating her high cheekbones. She looks stunning, but I lost the ability to see her beauty a long time ago. She might look amazing on the outside, but she’s got a black hole where her heart is supposed to be.

  “Don’t let it happen again, okay?” she says sharply.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I murmur, not wanting the kids to hear us fighting. Throughout the divorce we did our best to keep the arguments behind closed doors, but Lexi could never resist the opportunity to throw a jab.

  “Hi Mom,” Charlie says with a grin, running up to give her a hug. I’m glad to see that, despite the less than ideal home situation, he’s growing up to be a sweet kid.

  I let go of the girls’ hands so they can go inside, but they turn and each grab a leg, hanging onto me.

  “Stay with us,” Olivia says, looking up at me with her big green eyes.

  “Please?” Alexis begs.

  I’m not a sap, by any means. But seeing my kids beg me to stay with them is almost enough to bring a tear to my eye. I pull them gently from my legs and kneel down to their height.

  “Next week I’ll take you to the park. And we’ll get ice cream,” I tell them, kissing each of them on the forehead.

  I hug Charlie goodbye and turn to leave after the kids are inside.

  “Liam, hang on,” Lexi says, lingering at the door. I turn back, wondering if I forgot something. Lexi sighs. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The park and ice cream?” She raises an eyebrow. “You can’t have changed that much. We both know you don’t have time for that, not if it might get in the way of work.”

  She says the last part sarcastically, and I have to take deep breaths to keep my cool. The kids are still lingering near the doorway, and I can only hope they didn’t overhear what Lexi said.

  It’s true that when we were married, I worked a lot and most of the kid-friendly outings were left to her. But that’s only because I thought we were a team. I’d been operating under the impression that I was the one working sixty-hour weeks and earning a paycheck so that she could stay at home and our children could attend private schools. I thought we’d both been making those sacrifices for our family. I guess I thought wrong.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm myself.

  “I’ll be back to pick them up next week,” I say through my teeth. It takes all of my willpower to turn and walk away without spewing out all of the pent-up frustration I have toward her, but if I’ve learned anything through my divorce it’s that I can’t let her comments get to me. In the end, it’s the kids who end up hurt by our fighting.

  Back in the car, I clench my fists around the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths before driving off. At least I have the date with Noelle to look forward to tonight, or I’d be stewing about this all day.

  Just the thought of Noelle makes me feel strangely calm. I haven’t been able to get her off my mind all week, and seeing her in the office after what happened between us brightened an otherwise insane work week. Catching eye contact or brushing a hand across hers as we passed each other was enough to keep me in a constant state of desire all week. Not to mention, just the memory of what happened between us still gets me hard.

  Jamie’s right—I absolutely need to get laid. As much as I enjoyed making Noelle come the other night, I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted by the cleaning crew. It feels like the last few days have been leading toward tonight, and I’m ready to finish what we started. And if the preview was any indication, the main event is going to be pretty fucking spectacular.

  I decide I need some endorphins after my encounter with Lexi and so I head to the gym. I spend an hour blowing off steam, then shower and begin to get ready for our date. I’m normally not a huge romantic, but I booked us reservations at the nicest steakhouse in town and made special arrangements to have a wine pairing with our meal. I wouldn’t usually go this far out on a limb for a first date, but considering the circumstances, I want Noelle to know that she’s not just some hookup. We make a really good team, and I hope this date proves that to her.

  •••

  I pull up to Noelle’s apartment at exactly seven. When she comes out the front door, it’s like all the air gets sucked out of my Lexus. Damn, she’s stunning.

  As I step out, I watch her approach, her hips swaying enticingly as she moves closer. I just stand there like a dumbass, appreciating the view.

  “Hi there.” She stops in front me, grinning.

  “Fuck.” I straighten. “I mean hello.”

  Noelle laughs and the sound is light, easy, beautiful. Just like her.

  As crazy as it
sounds, she’s been my salvation for the past few months. There were so many changes in my life over the past year—separating from my wife of ten years, moving out and into a new home, working even more hours just to fill the empty void inside me—and then my assistant left and I hired Noelle. And little by little, everything started to change.

  She’s been a breath of fresh air for me. I can see that now—it’s clearer than ever that I’m no longer clouded, trying to hide my attraction for her.

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her, and I mean it. She always looks stunning, but there’s something about her tonight that’s even more alluring. She’s wearing a fitted blue dress and a pair of nude heels, and her hair cascades onto her tan shoulders in dark waves.

  “That’s quite a dress,” I add. Her full lips part into a smile, and I can’t stop myself from imagining how it’s going to feel to have those lips kissing my chest, down my stomach and all the way to my cock. I clear my throat. Get a grip, I warn myself. The date just started.

  “This old thing?” she says sarcastically. “I just found it in the bottom of my closet.”

  I laugh, relieved that there’s no first-date tension.

  I offer her my arm and walk her over to the car door, opening it for her. The neckline of her dress is just low enough that I can see her full tits bouncing with each step. I feel a pressure in my groin as she leans in to hug me, her breasts pressing against my chest. My cock twitches as she turns to get in the car and I catch a glimpse of her ass.

  Inside the car, she crosses one long, toned leg over the other, and tosses her hair back. The scent of her fresh, clean shampoo hits me and I inhale. God, how does she always smell so good? I want to grab onto her hair and pull her against me, but I stop myself. Get a grip, Liam. I’m a thirty-five-year-old man; I need to stop acting like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity. This night isn’t just about sex, it’s about getting to know each other. And we’re not going to be able to do that if all I can do is think about what’s underneath her dress.

  We pull up to the restaurant and I hand the keys to the valet. As we’re walking to our table I notice multiple guys turning to stare at Noelle. Far from the jealous type, I don’t mind the stares. In fact, I completely understand. Noelle’s the kind of woman who lights up every room she enters. She could walk into the restaurant wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and she’d still be turning heads.

  “I’ve always wanted to come here,” she says excitedly after we’ve placed our drink orders. “Thanks for asking me to come out. It’s nice to spend some time together when we don’t have to do work.”

  I nod. “Don’t thank me. You’re the one who made me realize I need to relax once in a while.”

  She smiles at me across the table and I feel an ache in my gut. The candlelight highlights her high cheekbones and wide, honey colored eyes.

  “Let’s make a pact. No talking about Griffin Real Estate Investments tonight,” she says, looking up at me from under her long lashes.

  I raise my glass. “Deal. Cheers to having fun,” I say and we clink glasses.

  “I’ve been wondering. What did you want to be when you grew up, initially?” she asks, folding her hands in front of her and leaning forward.

  I think for a moment. “I guess I always wanted to be a businessman. I used to read The Economist and the Wall Street Journal growing up, and it always seemed like the path for me.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? No five-year-old wants to be a businessman. There must have been something else you wanted to do, something silly, when you were really young.”

  I pause as our server sets down our appetizer, a dozen fresh oysters.

  “Well, there was one other thing,” I say, grinning sheepishly. “I used to write love poems.”

  She snorts. “Love poems? Like roses are red, violets are blue?”

  I laugh. “It started out that way, but I developed as a writer and moved on to haikus. I even won an amateur poetry contest in third grade.”

  She grins, her eyes wide.

  “That’s amazing. Why did you stop?” She pauses, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Or are you secretly a famous poet who’s just pretending to be a big shot CEO?”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but no,” I say, shrugging. “I guess once I got to middle school I got caught up in trying to do well in school, and noticing girls for the first time, I stopped writing them.”

  “Will you write me a poem?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine.

  I shake my head. “Trust me, you don’t want a love poem from me. I’m no Hemingway.”

  “Maybe someday,” she says slyly.

  “Maybe,” I say, looking into her honey eyes. “If you’re lucky.”

  She swats me on the arm playfully.

  “And what about you?” I ask, sitting back in my chair. “What did Noelle St. James want to be when she grew up?”

  She grins, and a blush rises in her cheeks. “You can’t make fun of me,” she says.

  “I wouldn’t dare,” I say, holding up my hands.

  “Well,” she says, pausing for a moment. “I wanted to be a clown.”

  I snort into my glass of wine.

  “Really? Like in a circus?”

  She nods. “I used to do clown makeup on myself all the time. I even wore it to a couple of birthday parties in elementary school. Everyone loved it. I was a great clown.”

  I laugh, imagining a small Noelle blowing up a balloon animal with a red nose on.

  “So, what went wrong? Why didn’t you go through with it?”

  “The older I got, the more the glamour of clown life stopped appealing to me.” She grins.

  “Well, my son Charlie’s birthday is coming up, maybe we can book you,” I say. “Get you back in the game.”

  “Trust me, you couldn’t afford me.” She winks and I let out another chuckle.

  “Speaking of Charlie, tell me about your kids,” she says, swallowing an oyster. “Charlie is the oldest, right?”

  I nod. “Charlie is five, about to be six. He’s a sweetheart. He loves helping his mom around the house and likes to pretend he’s taking care of the girls.”

  Noelle grins, and her eyes light up. The wine is starting to settle in, and I’m feeling lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.

  “And how old are the girls?”

  “Olivia and Alexis turned three a few months ago,” I say, taking another sip of my wine. “It’s bloody insane how fast they’re growing. Those two are going to be a handful. They already have an attitude.”

  Noelle laughs, a light, playful sound. “My kind of girls,” she says. “I hope I get to meet them one day.”

  “I hope so, too,” I say, staring into her warm eyes, alight with genuine interest.

  I never imagined her saying she’d want to meet my kids. I’m not sure what to think. Then again, she’s probably just being polite—trying to make conversation.

  We hold eye contact for a moment, and my heart pounds against my chest. I haven’t felt this kind of connection with a woman in a long time. Spending time with Noelle is like taking in a big breath of air after you’ve been drowning.

  The server turns up with the main course, interrupting the moment, and I tear my eyes away from her to thank him. He sets a T-bone steak in front of me and a lobster tail in front of Noelle.

  “Mmm,” she says as she swallows her first bite. “This is amazing.”

  Her voice is low and sensual, and I have an immediate flashback to the sound of her moaning in my office while I kissed up her thighs. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and I feel an electric pulse shoot through me. I cough gently, trying to ignore the stirring between my legs.

  We chat casually as we finish our meal, and I can’t help but notice it’s the most I’ve laughed with someone in years. Usually only my kids can get me to loosen up this much, but Noelle has a special talent for making me feel relaxed and carefree. Which, as the hyper driven CEO of a huge company, is rare.

  As the valet pul
ls the car around, I help Noelle into her seat, our hands brushing momentarily before I shut the door. My heart skips a beat, and I swallow as I head to the driver’s side. I’ve been trying to keep my desire for Noelle in check all night, but it’s getting harder and harder. Literally. I’m not sure if she wants to come back to my place, and the last thing I want to do is pressure her. As much as I want her, this has to be something we both feel good about. But Jesus, I’m silently praying she wants to come home with me.

  “So,” I say as I start the car. “Are you tired? I can drop you back off at your apartment, or ….”

  She turns to me, leaning forward slightly so that the tops of her breasts peek out over the scooped neckline of her dress.

  “I’m not tired,” she says breathily.

  I meet her eyes, and then lean in close. Planting one hand against the back of her delicate neck, I pull her in close. The moment Noelle’s lips touch mine, I’m done for.

  She leans forward, grabbing my shirt in a fist, and pulls me toward her. Her tongue tastes sweet from the wine as she slowly slides it into my mouth, teasing me.

  Fuck.

  I love how direct she is. I want nothing more than to take her home and do all of the things I’ve been imagining for the past few months.

  There are no games, no uncertainty. Our attraction is so combustible, it’s as if everything is right there on the surface, ready to explode. I suck her luscious bottom lip, gently nibbling it with my teeth and Noelle makes a hungry noise in the back of her throat.

  “You liked that?” I murmur.

  She groans again, leaning in for another kiss.

  When her hand drifts down the front of my shirt, my ab muscles contract, and when she groans again, the sound goes straight to my dick which is already hard.

  I can smell the slightly floral scent of her perfume as her hands explore the muscles in my chest, my stomach. All I want is for her to unzip my trousers and wrap those beautiful lips around my cock.