Merger to Marriage (Boardrooms and Billi - By Addison Fox Page 0,29

something with a woman like Mayson McBride, the truth would come out. And how did you tell a woman as bright and vivacious as Mayson that you came from something dark and dangerous and so very, very ugly?

…

Mayson stepped out of the McBride Media building and Manhattan’s bustling street noise faded into nothingness at the image that greeted her. Holt leaned against his limo, his button-down shirt open at the collar and the sleeves rolled up at the forearms. His hands were shoved into his pockets and a cocky grin lit his features.

“You weren’t kidding on the pick up.” She crossed the sidewalk toward him. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

“Too long.” The words came out on an almost growl as he dragged her into his body.

Before she could even think to find her balance, Mayson was wrapped in his arms, her own banding around his neck in a tight hold designed to pull him as close as possible. The stress and worry about their relationship faded as the attraction that pulsed between them took over. It was nearly impossible to form a coherent thought as Holt plundered her mouth with his, inciting a wash of sparks over every inch of her body.

Had she ever been kissed like this? Like she was the most important, most precious—most desirable—woman in the world? Colors danced before her eyes as his mouth plundered hers, drawing, teasing, demanding a response.

“Holt.” She whispered his name against his lips as the storm continued to whip around her body, empowering and disorienting all at the same time. How had she ever thought one night with him would be enough?

“Mayson.” He smiled against her lips, his infectious enthusiasm pulling a smile from her in return. “Long day?”

She glanced up at the night sky, dusk a distant memory. “Clearly just as long as yours. You still up for that dinner you originally offered? The restorative properties of a steak can’t be underestimated.”

“No, they can’t. And yes, I’d love to go to dinner.”

Within moments they were ensconced in the back of Holt’s car, facing each other across the bench seats, their driver headed toward a Chelsea restaurant that was one of her favorites.

“Have you thought about our discussion this weekend?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“And?”

“And I think marriage is too big a step.”

She saw the strangest set of emotions flit through his gaze and couldn’t fight the very real sense that he was scared about something. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You can’t be upset I’m not ready to say yes to marriage, are you?”

“What happened to the idea of us making a merger of interests?”

“It’s so cold. Functional. Practical.”

“Hmmm. Practical. Really?” Holt leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingers played at the hem of her skirt. “Because I’d say that kiss we just shared was way more than practical.”

Mayson’s entire body clenched as his index finger stroked over a particularly sensitive area of her inner thigh. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” His hands moved higher and the breath caught in her throat came out on a hard exhale. “Would that be considered practical or functional?”

“Um…” she bit her lip, the teasing torment of his fingers shooting sparks through her body. “I’m not sure.”

His hands moved to her waist and pulled her close, until she straddled his lap. “Let me give you a few things to think about, then.”

Whatever thought was on the tip of her tongue evaporated in the heat of his body. Mayson hung on as he pulled her close, then sighed when he shifted one hand to her upper thigh while the other stayed firmly pressed to her lower back.

“Holt—” She half whispered it, half moaned it against his mouth. “We can’t do this here.”

“We can and we will.” His fingers inched higher and she felt the tip of one finger pressed against the elastic of her panties.

“Your driver.”

“Is behind sound-proof glass and knows I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“But…” Her head fell back as she tried to muster up another argument, all the while pressing herself into those clever, devilish fingers of his. Heat consumed her, roving over her flesh to settle at the core of her body. The need to writhe against him was great as the pleasure built like quicksilver, but he held her still with the steady pressure of the hand at her back while the other played against her body. Sharp, desperate need coursed through her, nearly bringing her to peak before she could catch her breath.

A heavy