Unexpected Lovers Box Set by J.B. Heller

TEN GLORIOUS MONTHS LATER …

It’s our one-year anniversary,and I’ve got something amazing planned for Atticus.

Arlo is at his friend’s place for the weekend, so we have the apartment to ourselves. I came home early from work to set up my camera on a tripod in Atticus’s office. Then, I dug out my old Miss Sadie maid’s outfit and donned it with my new pair of Louis Vuittons. I’ve got the connection all set up, ready to go. All Atticus has to do is click on the link I’m about to send him.

ME: Happy Anniversary, baby! I hope you like your present. {private link attached}

I only have to wait two minutes before the little notification below my text appears, telling me he’s read it. Then I get to work, cleaning my man’s office.

Holy fuck.

One of these days, my woman is going to kill me with her flirtatious smirk and sexy-as-fuck come-get-me eyes. Kinsley’s confidence has grown in leaps and bounds in the last year, to the point where her Miss Sadie persona and the woman I used to ride the elevator with have merged into one. And she rocks my world.

I click on the link without even reading her message properly, and now I’m staring at my sweet girl’s ass covered in a barely-there maid skirt as she bends over and dusts the bottom shelf of a bookcase.

My eyes are transfixed to the screen of my cell as she straightens, looks over her shoulder, and stares directly into the camera, right into me. My dick swells in my trousers as she winks then goes back to dusting.

This is so reminiscent of the live feed I accidently watched that night what feels like forever ago. Except this time, she’s at home, in my office. And what the fuck am I still doing here?

I stand so fast my chair flies out behind me. It bangs into the floor-to-ceiling window behind my desk. I grab my briefcase and head for the door.

Tyson stands as I stride past his desk with purpose. “Leaving early?” he calls behind me, humor lacing his tone.

I don’t even bother giving him a response.

Twenty minutes later, I slam the door to our apartment closed as I storm down the hallway to my office and throw the door open.

There she is, my secret seductress, and she’s waiting for me.

I don’t waste any time yanking my tie off and discarding my clothes. Kinsley yelps when I stalk toward her, a predator closing in on its prey. My cock slaps against my stomach as I walk, and her eyes drop to it, then she lowers to her knees the second I reach her.

She takes me in her hot, wet mouth and sucks me back as far as she can, bobbing her head up and down on my length. But as amazing as it feels, it’s not what I want right now. Placing a hand on her cheek, I push her face away and look into her questioning gaze. “I want you bent over my desk. Now,” I demand.

Kinsley doesn’t hesitate. She scrambles to her feet then dashes to sit facing me on the edge of my desk where I notice she’s already cleared half of it off. Her eyes follow me as I approach. An eager smile pulls at her perfect mouth, and I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, bringing her in for a desperate kiss. She moans into my mouth, her hands going to my ass.

Breaking the kiss, I spin her around, track my palm up her spine until I’m cradling her neck and push her over the timber surface. When her torso is pressed flat against it, I glide my finger back down to her ass then flip the flimsy excuse for a skirt over it.

“No panties,” I breathe. “What a dirty girl you are,” I murmur, running my fingertips through her wet folds.

She squirms against my touch and whimpers as I slide one finger, then two, inside her.

“I’m going to own this pussy,” I tell her, and she nods repeatedly. Removing my fingers, I suck them clean then position my aching length at her entrance and thrust my hips until I’m balls deep inside the woman I love.

Her flawless ass bounces as she writhes against the desk with every luxurious glide of my cock, and we both climb higher and higher toward bliss. Bending over her, I kiss the lavender tattoo on the back of her neck and slam my hips forward again and again.

“Atticus,” she whimpers as her pussy clenches around me so hard I tumble over the edge with her.

Once we’ve caught our breath, I help Kinsley to her feet then guide her to our bedroom and into the bathroom where I turn the shower on. She blinks up at me, all sated and perfect, and murmurs, “I love you,” as she steps under the hot spray.

Leaning against the wall, I watch her tip her head back and let the water wash down her long hair and over her incredible body. A smile draws my lips up at the sight of the tiny swell of her stomach and the little person we made together growing in there.

Catching me staring, she raises a brow as her eyes track down my naked body then pause on my rapidly hardening dick and asks, “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to join me?”

Closing the distance between us, I step up behind her, wrap my arms around her middle, and kiss the side of her neck. “Love you, my sweet girl.”

She moans and rocks back into my cock. “Always so horny,” she chuckles softly.

Trailing my nose up the column of her delicate throat, I breath her in then murmur, “It’s not that I’m horny all the time. It’s that you’re always sexy.”

Kinsley sighs contentedly and curls a hand around the back of my neck to toy with the strands of my hair that are past due for a cut. She relaxes into my hold, and I can’t think of a better time than now. My lips brush over her smooth skin as I say, “Marry me, Kins.”

She turns in my arms, presses up on her tiptoes, and kisses the ever-loving shit out of me. “Yes,” she sobs. “A million times, yes.”

THE END

Flickingmy eyes to the clock on the wall, my gaze narrows. She’s late.

I snatch my cell off the corner of the table in The Brew Guru and shoot a text to my incredibly pushy agent, Calliope.

ME: She’s late. I don’t have time to sit around waiting for this chick to show.

Her response comes through before I’ve even put my cell down.

CALLIOPE: She’ll be there. And be nice. Her blog is huge. This interview will give your debut a massive boost.

I scoff. Nice? I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.

Lifting my gaze, I scan the room once again—easy to do from my seat in the back corner. But all I see are two chicks with babies, a small group of dudes in bike tights—gross—a kid examining a particularly large booger on the tip of his finger, and nope—she’s definitely not here.

My eyes dart back to the clock, and I scowl. Is it really that hard to be punctual? I’ve been here since five-thirty, and I told her I would be in my reply to the email she sent to confirm our appointment. She’s the one who didn’t want to meet until seven, something about her not being a morning person—like that’s my problem.

Calliope keeps telling me how great this woman is and how all it will take is one article from her and I’ll have readers banging my metaphorical door down. I’m all for this interview putting me on the map as a must-read author, but I would rather remain anonymous.

My agent, however, believes the fact that I have a penis is a selling point that we can and should use to our advantage.

So here I am, waiting on this blogger to show when I should be focusing on the words on the screen in front of me in the limited time I have to do so each day. I have a day job to get to, and my employers are very demanding. I don’t have time to scratch myself, let alone ponder plot holes when I’m on the clock.

With a frustrated groan, I close my laptop and pick up my coffee, taking a large swig of the now lukewarm brew, which only serves to piss me off further. Grabbing the mug, I saunter to the counter and slide it over to the barista. “Can I get a fresh one please, Mel?”

She gives me a sultry smile and winks as our fingertips make contact for the briefest of moments when she takes the mug from me. “No problem, sweet cheeks. I’ll bring it over.”

I nod, ignoring her advances like I always do, and return to my regular table. The last thing I need is to bang the barista who makes my morning caffeine fix and end up having to find a new haunt when she realizes I’m not interested in a repeat performance.

Unable to stop myself, I check the time again. Seven-thirty. My jaw clenches. I need to be out of here in fourteen minutes to make it to work on time.

“Excuse me.” A feminine voice draws my attention away from my cell.

I peer up into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Yes?” I say, a little dumbstruck.

She blushes then runs a hand through her wild red hair. “I was supposed to meet someone here, and I’m running a little late. I don’t suppose you noticed a woman working on a laptop in this corner earlier, did you?”

“Umm, I don’t think so. I’m usually the only one working here in the mornings,” I tell her as I eye her up and down. She’s wearing a hoodie that says Books are Better than Boys and clutching a Harry Potter notebook in front of her as she gnaws on her bottom lip. I keep my gaze on her then make an educated guess. “I think you’re looking for me.”

No.Nope. No way. The ridiculously good-looking man seated where my interviewee is supposed to be cannot possibly be her. I clear my throat, smooth my hair down again, and say, “Oh, I don’t think so. Sorry to bother you.”

He sighs then tilts his chin on an angle, which only serves to draw my eye to the sharpness of his stubbled jaw. “You’re looking for S. Bailey. Correct?”

My jaw drops. “Umm, yeah…”

“Then you’ve found me, late as you may be.”

My brows furrow. S. Bailey… is a dude?

“You’re wasting precious time gawking at me when you’re already extremely late, Miss Moss. The clock is ticking, and you only have thirteen minutes of my time left,” he says, crossing his sculpted arms over his chest.

What the hell is this—The Twilight Zone? Hot dudes don’t write romance novels.

“But, I—you’re a—” I start to say when a pretty brunette practically shoulder-barges me on her way to delivering the stud at the table a steaming mug of coffee. And somehow, she manages not to spill a drop.

“Here you go, Sebastian. I made it just the way you like it,” she purrs, lingering as she pushes her arms together at her sides, accentuating her cleavage.

If I wasn’t so shocked, I’d gag. She’s trying way too hard. The guy pays her no heed, not even acknowledging her as he keeps his amber gaze locked on me throughout the exchange. Which she doesn’t like at all, judging by the icy glare she throws my way as she passes me on her return to the counter.

“Eleven minutes, Miss Moss,” he mutters, glancing at the clock on the wall behind me.

I swallow then plonk down in the seat across from him. “I’m sorry, I just—I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you’re a guy.”

He arches a brow. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say immediately. “I was expecting a woman. It threw me.”

His eyes dart to the wall clock again as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Ten and a half minutes.”

Christ, what is his problem? I drop my notepad on the tabletop then sit back in my seat. “Have I done something to upset you, or are you just an ass?”

He scoffs. “How am I the ass here? You were supposed to be here at seven. And instead of working, like I should have been, I was watching the clock and wondering where the hell you were for the last thirty-nine minutes.”

I blink at him. It is way too early for this crap. I heave a sigh then rest my elbows on the table, sliding my hands into my hair at my temples. “Look, I’m not a morning person. I got out of bed at six-thirty this morning to be here for this interview.” I pause, and he opens his mouth in an attempt to start speaking.

I hold my hand out. “Shh, I’m not done,” I say. “Then my Uber got a flat, and I had to order another one. I didn’t have your number to let you know I’d be late, since we’ve only communicated via email where, by the way, you neglected to mention that you have a penis. So, when I walked in, I was looking for a woman for almost ten minutes before I approached you.”

He sips his coffee as he silently examines me after my little tirade. Eventually, he sighs and extends a hand toward me. “I’m Sebastian Bailey. Perhaps we should start over, Miss Moss.”

Taking his hand, I give it a firm shake, the way my brothers taught me. “Fine by me,” I say. “And call me Emory.”

Sebastian nods as he releases my hand. “As riveting as this little introduction has been, Emory, I have to go. Day job and all that.” He swallows the last of his coffee, slides his laptop into a sleek brown leather shoulder bag, then stands.

“Would you like to reschedule?” I ask, tipping my head back to maintain eye contact now that he’s standing above me.

He shrugs. “If you can be punctual, we can try this again tomorrow.”

I promptly bang my forehead on the table. “Fine,” I grumble. I’m being super unprofessional, but I’m too tired to even care. When he doesn’t reply, I lift my head to see him striding out the door and onto the street.

He glances at me through the picture window, an unimpressed expression on his handsome face as he points to the table. I follow his gesture and pick up a piece of paper with a cell number on it. He’s gone by the time I look back up.

Sebastian Bailey may be sexy as shit, but the dude’s a total asshole.