What Maxi Needs (Leave Your Shoes On 3)

Maxi straightened. The tingles continued to dance along her skin.

She said, “Nice to know. Because I definitely have not had my fill. And as I recall, there’s a silk tie in your pants pocket. Let’s put it to good use.” She winked deviously.

Ryan snatched the strand of condoms in one hand and then grabbed his tie with the other. He gave her a devilish look. “Please tell me the posts connected to your bed are conducive to tying you up.”

“As a matter of fact,” she informed him, as she sauntered by on slightly shaky legs because she was still thoroughly worked up, “there are several strategic places to secure me. And the pork loin won’t be ready for another half hour.” She crooked her finger at him. “Restrain me however you want, Einstein. And have your way with me.”

* * *

Maxi was studying production figures the next afternoon when she caught a whiff of lilacs. She glanced up as Lola Vonn strolled through her open doorway, looking fabulous in a skintight leopard-print dress and knee-high black suede boots.

“Oh, my God!” Maxi scooted around her desk and crossed the room, giving her dear friend an enthusiastic hug. When she pulled away, she said, “Damn, you’re gorgeous!”

Lola had a modern-day Marilyn Monroe appeal, all curvy and vivacious, with fluffy blonde hair and sky-blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Maxi asked excitedly.

“Alex and I wanted to surprise you. And Staci.” Lola beamed, radiant from her engagement and likely her newfound achievements in the Marketing department. “We flew in for the night. I want to take you out for drinks to thank you—a million times over—for all that you’re doing in Operations to keep the ad campaign from being a wasted effo

rt. Everyone in Marketing is so thrilled with its success, but we also understand the strain it’s put on production.”

“We’re pulling through,” Maxi assured her. “It’s a wonderful campaign, and things are really starting to happen for Staci Kay Shoes. Everyone’s thrilled, despite the setbacks.”

“And you’re my hero.” Lola hugged her this time.

“Don’t pin that on me,” she said. “Plenty of people have been working their asses off. Including one seriously clever man I want you to meet.” Maxi wagged her brows.

“She’s not on the market,” Alex said as he strode into the office and gave Maxi a tight hug.

She laughed. “I so know that. I’ve seen the two-carat diamond ring you gave Lola. You’ll get a kick out of meeting Ryan too. In fact, Lola and I will have plenty of time to catch up when you and my new director—a PhD—get together. The topics of conversation for you two will be endless.”

Lola said, “Then let’s collect him and Staci, and spend the evening with expensive champagne and great company!”

“My kind of outing,” Maxi told her. Then she leaned in close and whispered, “P.S., girlfriend. Nerds rule.”

Lola winked. “Don’t I know it?”

* * *

Ryan had to put a hell of a lot of effort into focusing on Tuesday—and not think of all the wicked things he’d done to Maxi the night before at her condo, after dinner and drinks with her friends. Well, he had trouble getting thoughts of what he’d done to her Sunday evening out his head too. Especially when he’d tied her to the bedposts and had made her come a half dozen times. The pork loin had burned, the smoke alarm had gone off, and neither of them had cared while he was deep inside her.

Now, he had Gantt charts to update and two meetings to prep materials for so that Maxi was free to meet with Staci first thing in the morning, and then gather her VP status reports, so that everyone was on the same page as they started the new week in amplified production mode, rather than crisis mode.

Anne Phelps, Ryan’s fifty-something assistant, had returned from vacation and she was efficient and pleasant, quickly grasping the intensity of the situation and diving right in to help out.

Though, on the plus side, Ryan was happy to share with her that they’d put out the most rampant of fires and were working with a more manageable situation.

Still, Anne ensured him she was wholly committed to the cause. And flashed him a peek of her Staci Kay ballerina shoes that she told him no woman her age could survive an eight-hour workday running from here to there without.

On the downside, Anne knew absolutely nothing about Dr. Elizabeth Sherman. So Ryan shouldn’t have been quite so shocked when his assistant announced the unscheduled appearance of his ex-fiancée.

But he was shocked. To the very core of his being.

Ryan was in the middle of juggling lunch at his desk and the last update of his charts on his computer when Anne rapped softly on his open door and said, “You have a visitor, Ryan.”

His head snapped up. Sure, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of him immediately believed—hoped—that visitor was Maxi.

But no…