front of her and fought the need to hurl something at the nearest wall.
She was officially physically and creatively frustrated.
Her teeth chewed on her lower lip. It had taken her years to finally control her famous emotions. From tantrums to crying jags, she’d always felt things more deeply than the rest of her family. Now, she was proud of her restraint and ability to engage without the force field of drama around her. Unfortunately, some of the loss of emotion escaped from her painting, and she needed to find a way to get back in touch with her artistic diva.
Muttering under her breath, she opened up the windows to let some fresh air circulate and pumped up the volume of Usher. The grindy, sexy tempo urged her to explore something deeper in her art, but she wasn’t sure what. At least, not yet. Her usual portraits seemed blasé, and she had no interest in landscapes.
She let her thoughts float as she attacked the white space with some blinding color. It was funny how, even as frustrated as she was now, there was a sense of satisfaction never present when she was in the office. For so long, she’d worked toward one goal: dazzle her family with her business skills, make them take notice, ultimately securing her own place in the company. Her ease with accounting only made it easier to continue on the path, and though she enjoyed the people at La Dolce Maggie and the many aspects of the business world, most of it remained flat.
Her dream of a career in the art world caused her family and friends to pat her on the head and encourage her hobby. Gut instinct told her it could be more than that witha little work, but she never had the confidence to buck the system. It seemed so much easier to finish her master’s and settle.
Gloominess settled over her like Pooh’s rain cloud. If she didn’t toughen up, Michael would give up on her and she’d disappoint her family. She tried so hard to be firm, but when she heard the tender stories from people, her mushy heart betrayed her. She knew her assets well: figures and her motivation to work hard. Yet it seemed many of the qualities revered in being a good person rarely were appreciated in the business world.
Max ruled La Dolce Maggie as well as her brother. Their no-nonsense resolve brooked no argument from competitors, yet they were generous and friendly to the employees. She couldn’t even blame their success on being men, since Julietta was the female version of them and ruled La Dolce Famiglia with an iron fist and high heels.
The thought of spending years cooped up in a suit jacket behind a desk prickled her nerves with dread. Half of the fun came from her interactions, but most of them ended up with her covering or saving someone’s ass. She didn’t mind, but Max was getting suspicious. Soon it may come to light that her management skills kind of sucked.
Max.
The memory of their kiss jolted her like an amusement park ride. God, it had been so hot. That forceful tongue, the way he took control of the kiss, the way he pushed upher dress and challenged her with his stare to stop him. It was everything she’d dreamed of in a sexual encounter, and of course, it had to be with the man she was done with.
Fate had a terrible sense of humor.
She added fuchsia and kept the lines bold as she painted freestyle to relax. Not that he’d mentioned the kiss or even acknowledged the evening. One week had passed and he avoided being alone with her at all costs. Her lips curved at the thought. Big, bad Maximus Gray, scared to spend too much time with innocent me.
Damned if she hadn’t given him something to think about also. There was no way she imagined that type of explosive chemistry. His erection proved his interest, but he was probably terrified Michael would kill him for taking his sister for a test drive. Coward.
The idea exploded through her head. The brush paused midair.
A one-night stand.
The image of a naked Max thrusting her to orgasm made her clench her
She was officially physically and creatively frustrated.
Her teeth chewed on her lower lip. It had taken her years to finally control her famous emotions. From tantrums to crying jags, she’d always felt things more deeply than the rest of her family. Now, she was proud of her restraint and ability to engage without the force field of drama around her. Unfortunately, some of the loss of emotion escaped from her painting, and she needed to find a way to get back in touch with her artistic diva.
Muttering under her breath, she opened up the windows to let some fresh air circulate and pumped up the volume of Usher. The grindy, sexy tempo urged her to explore something deeper in her art, but she wasn’t sure what. At least, not yet. Her usual portraits seemed blasé, and she had no interest in landscapes.
She let her thoughts float as she attacked the white space with some blinding color. It was funny how, even as frustrated as she was now, there was a sense of satisfaction never present when she was in the office. For so long, she’d worked toward one goal: dazzle her family with her business skills, make them take notice, ultimately securing her own place in the company. Her ease with accounting only made it easier to continue on the path, and though she enjoyed the people at La Dolce Maggie and the many aspects of the business world, most of it remained flat.
Her dream of a career in the art world caused her family and friends to pat her on the head and encourage her hobby. Gut instinct told her it could be more than that witha little work, but she never had the confidence to buck the system. It seemed so much easier to finish her master’s and settle.
Gloominess settled over her like Pooh’s rain cloud. If she didn’t toughen up, Michael would give up on her and she’d disappoint her family. She tried so hard to be firm, but when she heard the tender stories from people, her mushy heart betrayed her. She knew her assets well: figures and her motivation to work hard. Yet it seemed many of the qualities revered in being a good person rarely were appreciated in the business world.
Max ruled La Dolce Maggie as well as her brother. Their no-nonsense resolve brooked no argument from competitors, yet they were generous and friendly to the employees. She couldn’t even blame their success on being men, since Julietta was the female version of them and ruled La Dolce Famiglia with an iron fist and high heels.
The thought of spending years cooped up in a suit jacket behind a desk prickled her nerves with dread. Half of the fun came from her interactions, but most of them ended up with her covering or saving someone’s ass. She didn’t mind, but Max was getting suspicious. Soon it may come to light that her management skills kind of sucked.
Max.
The memory of their kiss jolted her like an amusement park ride. God, it had been so hot. That forceful tongue, the way he took control of the kiss, the way he pushed upher dress and challenged her with his stare to stop him. It was everything she’d dreamed of in a sexual encounter, and of course, it had to be with the man she was done with.
Fate had a terrible sense of humor.
She added fuchsia and kept the lines bold as she painted freestyle to relax. Not that he’d mentioned the kiss or even acknowledged the evening. One week had passed and he avoided being alone with her at all costs. Her lips curved at the thought. Big, bad Maximus Gray, scared to spend too much time with innocent me.
Damned if she hadn’t given him something to think about also. There was no way she imagined that type of explosive chemistry. His erection proved his interest, but he was probably terrified Michael would kill him for taking his sister for a test drive. Coward.
The idea exploded through her head. The brush paused midair.
A one-night stand.
The image of a naked Max thrusting her to orgasm made her clench her
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