Off Limits by Lola Darling Read Free Book Online Page A

places.
    It was just a dream , I tell myself as I haul my ass out of bed. No use going back to sleep now, since I’ll only have to wake up again in half an hour. Might as well get an early start.
    I have a feeling today is going to be a long day.

    * * *
    T he elevator doors swing open on our floor just as Max and a tall, thin redhead stroll past, coffees in hand. Her teeth catch the fluorescent light and practically glow at me, they're so white, as she tosses her head back to laugh harder than is believable at whatever he just said. Her hand flits to his forearm and squeezes gently as she tapers off the laugh.
    “Honestly, I swear that’s how it happened,” he’s saying.
    “You are such a liar , Max.” The redhead’s shrill voice cuts through the office air.
    He stops dead in the middle of the hallway to raise his eyebrows at her, the expression on his face torn between fake offense and a sly grin. “Tell me, is this the face of a dishonest man?”
    Yes , I resist snapping.
    “I’ll admit you have the innocent look down pat, lawyer boy,” the woman purrs.
    At that moment, Max's eyes flash straight to me, and his expression shifts. Now it seems caught between polite amusement and annoyance. I assume the latter is because I've just burst into the middle of his latest office flirtation.
    And yet, my stupid, traitor lizard brain can't stop reliving the dream this morning. His hands tracing over my body, searing hot, and our torsos pressed together, my nails digging into his sculpted back. . .
    My cheeks flush, and he lifts an eyebrow. I swallow hard and cross the lobby, trying to pretend that my body has not become suddenly, acutely aware of his every shift, the way his body tracks mine, so he's facing me my whole walk across the entrance. I swear I can feel his gaze boring into me, even though I avert my eyes.
    "See you in ten, Chloe," he calls, just before I reach the hallway, where I can escape him for a few more minutes before our client arrives.
    "Who's that?" I hear the redhead ask, and then I'm thankfully around the corner and away, safely escaped from the thudding of my heart in my chest, the strange nervous sensation firing through my veins.
    What the hell is wrong with me?
    I know what Max Davis is like. Irrefutably. Just look at him out there now, for Christ's sake. Inside my office, I shut the door and take a few deep breaths.
    The sight of my desk and the sharp memory of being bent over it in the dream does not help calm me the hell down. I toss my purse on it, grab everything I'll need for this meeting, and leave early for the client interview.
    I spent half the night last night rewatching the couple of Suzie Steel workout videos I own. The woman has charisma, I'll give her that. And she definitely motivates me to get off my ass and break a sweat. I can see how she got so famous at what she does.
    Still, it's one thing to be familiar with the public personality. It's quite another when, a few minutes later, I'm shaking her hand face-to-face as my assistant escorts her into the conference room I've booked. She's my height, which is funny—in the videos, I always pictured her as taller for some reason.
    As I rise, she offers a hand to shake. Her grip is uncomfortably tight as she pumps my arm up and down enthusiastically. "Suzie Steel here, good to meet you, you must be the girl, right, MacIntyre? Good Scottish name, always loved the Scots—nice handshake on you, but grip a little harder, hey?" She squeezes my fingers again in demonstration, and I lose feeling in my pinky.
    Hopefully the wince doesn't show on my face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Steel." It's an even bigger pleasure when she finally lets my hand drop. I try not to gasp too loudly in relief. "I'm a big fan of your work, by the way. Your newest series is the first thing that's managed to get my butt out of bed and moving early in years," I admit with a small smile.
    She beams back at me like this is the best news she's ever heard. "So