The Reckless Secret, Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire In Love BBW Romance) (12 page)

M
aggie might’ve still been
in a mess, she might’ve had some troubling doubts about her relationship with Declan, but right now, she was on cloud nine million and nothing,
nothing
was going to dent that. She half wanted to find the nearest hilltop and sing on it.

Instead, she pounced on Declan when he came through the door. “Dr. Stevens just called me,” she said breathlessly, arms hooked around his neck after squeezing the life out of him with a hug.

She didn’t know where he’d been for the past two hours, but right now she didn’t much care. He was wearing the tired look of someone who’d been through a hard time and she didn’t want that, not when her own mood had rocketed skyward.

His drawn expression split into a smile. “Really?”

“Didn’t sound
too
happy about it,” she said, nodding, “but it seems he’s got no choice—I can go back tomorrow!”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You mean I don’t get to have you waiting at home for me every day anymore? I’m not sure about this.”

“Asshole,” she said with a laugh, tapping his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed it.

“Congratulations,” he said. “Although we knew he didn’t have enough on you to extend the suspension.”

“You might’ve been sure of it, but I definitely wasn’t. For a while there, I felt like I’d lost it all.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s gonna be okay.” He kissed the tip of her nose and brushed the hair off her forehead. “Give it a couple weeks and this whole thing will just be a bad memory.”

“I hope you’re right.” God, did she hope.

“I’m always right.”

She grinned at him, before leaning away from his hold and clapping her hands together. “Let’s celebrate.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner. Italian. Wine,” she said, butterflies tickling her belly. She could hardly believe it—she was going back to work! “Well, one glass of wine. I can’t go in hungover tomorrow.”

“Takeout?”

“You kidding?” She laughed and shoved his shoulder. “You’re taking
me
out, baby.”

His eyes twinkled, gazing at her as if she was a vision. “I’ve missed this version of you,” he said softly, pulling her close again.

“Me too,” she admitted.

This was the first time she’d felt like her old self in such a long time that she wasn’t even quite sure if she could trust it, half afraid it would all rip away from her in an instant. But even those foreboding thoughts weren’t enough to dent her spirits and she let out another breathless laugh, floating high on giddiness while he looked at her with sparkling eyes. “I’m gonna head home to get ready. Pick me up in an hour?”

“Hmm, just one thing first—” he said, then kissed her soundly, backed her up until she hit the wall. The breath knocked out of her, and her mind spun as he wasted no time shoving her legs apart with his thigh. She could feel the crackle in the air, the moment it turned from fervent kissing to the start of something, and nearly whimpered when he broke the kiss to press his fingers into her mouth, on her tongue, saying, “Get them wet for me,” as he used his other hand to hike up the front of her dress. Then he slid his wet fingers into her panties, and she groaned.

His middle finger slipped into her, and his thumb pressed down on her clit and she was grinding against his hand all of a sudden, losing total control of herself—grinding on him and taking the assault on her mouth and whimpering in her throat as he quickly, efficiently, and expertly worked her to orgasm.

She could hardly believe it happened when it was over, slumped against him, her whole body trembling and her mouth squished against his shoulder. She huffed a laugh.

“What the hell.”

“Couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, stroking her back. “You’re so damn
alive
right now.” And then he added, mildly, “Turn around for me now,” and her gut flooded with more heat.

She did as she was told—turned around on unsteady legs, leaned forward slightly, hands braced on the wall for balance as he lifted the back of her dress and pulled her dripping-wet panties to the side, fondling her pussy lips a little and sliding a finger back inside her briefly.

She heard the rustle of a condom wrapper, thrilled he now kept one in his wallet at all times, and then his cock pressed against her entrance, his hands clamping around her hips. He pushed in, releasing a groan, and she stuttered a sigh as her overstimulated nerves lit up with renewed fire.

“You’re so good for me,” he said, before pulling back and slamming in again. She cried out. “So warm, taking me deep…” He leaned over her, one hand coming round to palm her breast while he rocked into her, building up a breathless rhythm that had her whimpering on each thrust, pleasure building in her gut again, sending her towards the edge.

His other hand drifted down over her rounded belly and lower, into the front of her panties and finding her clit. She choked out a moan and spread her legs wider, arching her back into a low slope to angle her ass higher, take him deeper, shuddering as he pinched her swollen nub and rubbed at it, other hand plucking at her nipple through her dress and sending shockwaves of pleasure back down to her pussy.

She came with a silent cry as he suddenly increased his speed to a relentless pace and then he shoved her flat against the wall, pinned her hands up above her head, bent his knees to get that perfect angle and gave it to her hard and fast and deep, fingers still clamped on her clit and then sliding through the slick of her folds, making her convulse with overstimulation.

They didn’t climax simultaneously, but it was close enough, and after they stayed squashed together against the wall, Declan’s considerable weight leaning on her until she had to give an unladylike grunt and elbow him off. He chuckled breathlessly and slipped out of her, disappearing for a moment too dispose of the condom and clean up, while she righted her clothing and considered getting another shower before they headed out for their celebratory meal.

Deciding that was
exactly
what she wanted to do—and not alone, either—she practically skipped after Declan towards the bathroom, heart swelling with giddiness over how perfect everything was right now.

Until she walked in on Declan in the bathroom and found him hurriedly shoving his phone into his pocket like he didn’t want her to see who he’d just been communicating with on it.

H
er first day
back at work, as it happened, felt just like any other. Like she hadn’t been away at all. Completely anticlimactic, and she was thrilled about it. Aside from a few whispers as she passed by the resident hospital gossips, no one even mentioned her absence. It was like a collective decision had been made to let her feel as normal as possible, and all day she’d felt random rushes of affection for her colleagues, even the ones she barely knew.

She almost bumped right into Cami on her way out of the staff room, laughing as she gripped her friend by the arms to stop them from colliding in the doorway.

“Hey you!” Cami said once they’d gathered themselves. “It went good, right? Dr. Stevens didn’t give you a hard time?”

“He was surprisingly…pleasant?” She couldn’t believe she was saying it, but it was the truth. Dr. Stevens had been fine with her—to a point. Granted, his smile to welcome her back had been thin and clearly pained, and he’d decided against directly including her when briefing the whole team, but he hadn’t been outright nasty to her at all. And while she would prefer a nicer working environment, she’d settle for bearable. “Okay, maybe not pleasant,” she conceded, and they shared another laugh. “You heading home?”

“Yep.” Cami bounced on her toes, eyes lighting up brighter than the stars on a clear night. “Drew’s on his way back.”

Maggie grimaced playfully. “You’re disgusting.”

“Shut up,” Cami joked, whacking her on the shoulder. “Like you’re not all crazy about Declan right now!”

“I’m not.” She said it on instinct, and her stomach twisted with conflicting emotions. Now was not the time to bring those thoughts back to the forefront of her mind, not when right now she was feeling lighter than she had in days. Cami looked supremely disbelieving, so she added, “Really, I’m not.”

“Oh, Maggie,” Cami said, some of that twinkle in her eye dying as she looked at her friend with pity. “You have to let someone in. Why not him?”

It was a good question, and the fact was, she didn’t have anything concrete on Declan—nothing solid to make her doubtful feelings justifiable. But that didn’t change the swell of foreboding in her gut when images of his secretive behavior floated into her mind, and she found herself admitting it to Cami.

“Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know, just a warning bell.” She tapped her temple to indicate where a warning bell would live in her head, mouth flattening into a grim smile.

Cami stared at her for a long moment, and then said abruptly, “You know what, Drew can wait one more evening. Let’s go out, okay? You and me.”

The absolute last thing Maggie wanted to do was take away from Cami’s happiness and excitement today. Just because her own relationship was slowly sinking beneath doubt, it didn’t mean Cami’s had to suffer, too. Not after everything Cami and Drew had been through to be together.

“No, God, don’t be stupid,” she said, giving Cami’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m fine. Really. Just a bit overwhelmed right now with everything going on.” With that, she pushed a hand into her unruly hair and swept it away from her face, attempting to convey through expression alone that she was making an effort to get her shit together.

Cami looked torn, but it was obvious her desire to see Drew was strong enough to have her wavering. “You sure?”

“Definitely,” Maggie said breezily, moving to brush past Cami and patting her again on the shoulder as she did. “Enjoy your night and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

When no other protestations came, Maggie left Cami to get changed and—purse slung over her shoulder and chest full of contentment at a job well done today—she headed towards the exit.

Outside, with the wind kicking up and setting a chill across her skin, she shivered a little as she dug in her purse for her car keys. The staff parking lot was empty, and only one of the two streetlights was currently working. The rustle of leaves in the shadows made an icy tingle spread down her spine and she cursed as she couldn’t quite get a grip on her keys.

“It’s a shame how quickly you’ve fallen.”

The voice in the darkness made her jump and whip around, staring into the gloom. “What?”

Emerging from the shadows like something out of a terrible horror movie, Ronald wore a smirk that made dread settle into the pit of her stomach.

“You and I split up, and a few months later you’re being investigated,” he said delicately, “suspended, accused…”

Maggie scowled at him, trying to appear as if he was of no consequence to her—even as her gut churned with alarm. She’d never seen that sinister look in his eyes before. “None of this has anything to do with you.”

He observed her for an uncomfortably long moment, and then stepped closer, glancing at an invisible watch on his wrist. “I’ve told you before. You need a man’s influence in your life, Maggie. Someone to guide you.” He met her eye again, paused, then smiled in a way that showed his teeth, but not like a grin. Something much worse than that. “Show you where you can improve your behavior.”

“Improve my behavior.”

“None of this would’ve happened if we were still together.”

“No, you’re right,” she said, and for one brief instant, she allowed anger to overtake her sense of self-preservation. “Because I wouldn’t even have a job, would I? You wanted to make me quit.” Because he might be currently exhibiting signs of instability, but she wouldn’t give him the idea that she in any way agreed with his twisted ideas of a balanced relationship.

“And would it have been so bad?” he pressed. “Look at the mess you’re in. Maggie, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer still, until she could see the unhinged gleam in his eye. “You need a man to take care of you.” He reached out to tuck a lock of hair away from her face, and she stepped back, dodging his touch.

“Got one, thank you,” she snapped at him. “Although his idea of
taking care of me
is a hell of a lot different to yours.”

“You mean that lawyer?” Something that screamed danger to her flashed across his face. “What happened to not liking wealth, hmm? What happened to your
principles
?”

He was getting rapidly worked up, a tick developing in his jaw, a ruddiness appearing on his cheeks visible to her even in this shadowed light. Her heart kickstarted a panicked rhythm.

“We’re done here,” she said, and made to leave.

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he growled, grabbing her arm and yanking her back. She gasped, shock and fear colliding in her chest and seizing her lungs, while he snarled, “
Don’t
you walk away from—” and then, in a chilling tone: “What’s that?”

“Get your hands off me.” She wrenched herself out of his hold but he kept coming, reaching for her hair now, her jacket collar, ignoring her attempts to brush him off and pulling everything to the side to expose her neck. The hickey on her neck.

The instant he recognized it for what it was, absolute outrage lit up his face. “You’re coming into work with his
marks
all over you? You’re not
fit
to—”

“Get off me!”

She broke away with a choked-off sob, furious with herself for allowing panic to get the better of her emotions even as she put everything into getting somewhere safe. But she’d only made it a half dozen hurried footsteps away before his hands clamped down on her again, and she found herself abruptly and violently thrown against the side of the building, Ronald’s hateful face inches from her own. Her stomach plummeted as icy fingers of terror curled around her heart, and Ronald bared his teeth at her, spitting, “I said don’t you walk away from me, you filthy—”

“Hey!” a new voice bellowed, and Ronald’s eyes went wide in the instant before he was unceremoniously flung backwards, away from Maggie, revealing Declan, beautiful Declan, wearing an expression of fury, his chest heaving with labored breaths, wide shoulders rising and falling. He was looking at Ronald like he was moments away from ripping his throat out, and when he spoke, his voice came out strangled and full of venom. “You put your hands on her again,” he said, stepping up to a now-panicked Ronald, getting right in his face, “and I will
end
you.”

Maggie peeled herself away from the wall, observing the situation, feeling as if one sudden move would make Declan attack, like he was a wolf with its hackles up. “Declan.”

“Am I making myself clear?” Declan pressed, speaking through gritted teeth, his hands curled into tight fists by his side—radiating, with total intensity, the barely controlled rage of a caged animal. Ronald, for his part, could only nod, his eyes still wide, arms up in front of himself for protection. “If I find out you’ve been anywhere near her—”

Declan stepped forward, directly into Ronald’s space, and Maggie couldn’t stand by and watch Declan commit an act they’d all regret—not for her. Not because of
Ronald
.

“Declan! He’s got the message,” she said, gingerly approaching him, putting a hand on his arm. “You’ve scared him. Come on…”

It felt like forever, waiting…waiting for Declan to tear his eyes away from a cowering Ronald and look at her. When he finally did, when he took in the sight of her and lifted a shaking hand to touch her cheek, she took the opportunity to glance at Ronald and nod. Ronald took his cue and scurried away like an alley rat.

“Are you okay?” Declan muttered. He was still shaking. His chest still heaved with breaths of anger. He was still, despite the calming of the situation, full of that same fire that almost had him ripping Ronald to pieces. It scared Maggie to see him like this.

Scared her, and aroused her.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “What’re you doing here?”

It was like he hadn’t quite come back into himself yet—eyes glassy, fingers trailing over her skin, a heat emanating from him that made her want to hug him tight almost as much as it made her panties wet.

“Did he hurt you?”

“
No
,” she said vehemently, not wanting to incite that fury again. Ronald wouldn’t be far enough away yet. “He’s just a creep. Are—are
you
okay? You’re shaking.”

She’d apparently failed, because something about her question made fire spark in his eyes again and he looked over his shoulder, staring out into the shadows of the night, jaw tense. “I’ll kill him.”

She swallowed thickly and said, “Come on,” taking him by the arm and making an attempt at steering him away. “Where’s your car?” She’d intended on driving her own car home tonight, but that seemed highly insignificant now. She’d get a cab back here, pick it up later, after she’d taken Declan back to his penthouse and made him forget he wanted to murder her ex-boyfriend. One who, while not exactly normal, had never really shown signs of violence or instability until this evening. She shuddered as she remembered the look in his eyes.

“My driver brought me. I wanted to surprise you with reservations…”

“I’m surprised,” she said. “Very surprised. Let’s go.”

Once they settled in the limo—stretch, the kind she hadn’t set foot in for many years—she expected Declan to calm down. But while he no longer looked moments away from exploding, his face suggested he was still imagining all the ways he could teach Ronald a painful lesson.

“Tell me if he gives you any more trouble, okay?” he said, fingers twitchy, breathing deeply as he looked her hard in the eye, searching out her promise.

“I will,” she said. “Look at me.” She took his face in her hands, ran her thumbs over the tight lines around his mouth, felt his feverish skin and shifted closer, wanting to cover herself in some of that heat—cover herself in this man. Her groin was tingling, the adrenaline of the situation shifting into arousal. He’d been so
animalistic.

“He won’t touch me again,” she continued, and then, shifting closer still, she lifted his tense hand and pressed it flat against the center of her chest. “You’re the only man who gets to put his hand on me from now on.”

His hand drifted lower until the heel settled on her flushed cleavage and he swallowed thickly, the roll of his throat slow and glistening with sweat, his eyes darkening as he tangled his other hand in her hair, dragging her head back to expose her neck. She gasped, parted her lips.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said, dipping close like he wanted to breathe her in.

“I know.” Her legs drifted open, her heart hammering against her ribs. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she wanted to see him take some of that power he used to warn off Ronald and
ruin
her with it. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Show me,” he said, hand fisting in her hair. “Show me how you want me to touch you.”

The limo jolted into motion as her breath faltered in her throat, and she had half a mind to refuse him, or at least ask to wait until they were somewhere more private. But the electricity lighting her veins at the sight of the veiled desperation in his eyes made her bite her lip and glance at the partition, check the driver didn’t have a view.

Then she captured Declan’s gaze again, slowly trailed her fingers up her own torso—pushed her jacket aside and thumbed open the top buttons of her blouse, tugged down a bra cup to expose her breast and dragged his hand over to cover it.

“Like this,” she whispered as his jaw went tight, as he clenched his fingers on her breast and moved to circle her nipple with his thumb. “This,” she added, and feeling bold, feeling so painfully aroused, she dragged him in by his tie, arched her back, and guided his mouth to her breast.

He released her hair, splayed both hands around her ribs, breathing a muted sound of relief in the instant before he closed his teeth around her pebbled nipple, then his lips, sucking as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak and her pussy clenched,
Jesus
, her clit throbbing.

“Declan,” she muttered, eyes fluttering shut. He hummed around her nipple in response and her legs drifted open even further, straining her skirt around her thighs and offering him an invitation, everything within her screaming at him to take it.

And he did—pressed his face between both breasts, pushing them together with his hands so he could breathe her in, thumbs plucking her nipples, and then he slipped onto the wide expanse of the limo floor between her spread thighs, straightened up to look her in the eye, his hair in disarray and his eyes blazing. Then he gripped her by the swell of her buttocks and yanked her forward until she sat right on the edge of the seat, shoved her skirt up her hips and then, in one teeth-gritted move that was almost primal, tore away her panties. She cried out, her pussy flooding with her arousal, reached for him to pull him in for a kiss but he resisted. Pressed a hand to the base of her throat and pushed her back, the look in his eye telling her she better not move.