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Page 4
Page 4
He’d spent half a year clerking for a federal court before he was called up to the Supreme Court. Some had said that he only got the position because of his name, the damn Maxwell name. But he didn’t think top of his class at Yale Law had hurt anything.
“Wow,” the girl said.
She walked right over to his bookcase, sending his brain into overdrive. He could just imagine pinning her body back against it. Definitely his plans for tonight. Easy enough.
“Clay, have you really read all of these?” she asked.
Fuck, he didn’t even remember her name. Just that the skimpy green thing she considered a dress matched her eyes, and she had lips that looked like they belonged around his cock.
“You’re asking too many questions,” he said dismissively.
“That so?” She leaned back on the bookshelf facing him. “Is this better? This what you want?”
He arched an eyebrow as she ran her hand down her front in invitation. He didn’t move. He liked the anticipation.
“Or would you rather have me here?” She stepped up to his desk and then laid her body across all the work he had to pick up before he cleared out his things this week.
“I think the bookshelf,” he said, revealing a dimple for her.
“Mmm, me, too.”
She crooked a finger at him, and he was about to oblige when his phone started ringing.
Fuck. Bad timing.
He raised a finger at Green Dress Chick and removed his phone from his pocket. A name flashed on the front of the screen that immediately brought a smile to his lips.
Andrea.
“Seriously?” the girl snapped from his desk.
“Have to take this,” he said.
He turned away from the girl, ignoring her less than flattering comments. “Hello, love. This really isn’t a good time.”
“Is that so?”
“In the middle of something.”
“What’s her name?” Andrea asked. Her voice was high and musical, just like he had always found it throughout the past fifteen years they had known each other.
“Should I remember?” Because he didn’t.
He didn’t even know if he had bothered asking for her name. It hadn’t mattered at the time.
“Your standards are slipping.”
“I’m still with you. Can’t be that low.” Clay smirked.
“I’m out of your league, honey.”
“Always have been,” he agreed easily.
“Why do I put up with you anyway?” Andrea sounded bored, not irritated.
She was never irritated with him. Not really. She didn’t give a shit about what he did. Just like he didn’t care about what she did in her spare time.
Clay had met Andrea on the beach on Hilton Head when he was almost thirteen years old. Since then, they had spent every summer together on that beach, even after her parents had finally split up during her sophomore year of high school. She’d endured years of endless arguments between them. Then, after the divorce, there was limitless pampering from her mom to make up for the fights that had jaded Andrea’s soft heart.
By the time they had gotten together at Yale during their freshman year of college, they were both very different people than they had been that one summer when he was embarrassed from kissing her on the beach.
Romance was wasted on them, so they had entered into the arrangement of a lifetime. They could do whatever they wanted, but at the end of the day, they would be together. Guard their hearts. No feelings would get hurt. They wouldn’t turn out like her parents, and he wouldn’t have anyone in his life to disappoint because of his behavior. It was perfect.
“You don’t put up with me. You enjoy it. It’s all my charm.”
“Oh, right,” she drawled. “That Maxwell charm. It does have a certain appeal.”
“Every appeal,” he said confidently. “So, I assume you called for a reason.”
“I have a game for you,” she said huskily.
“Right now?” he asked.
He glanced back over at the girl who had, seconds ago, been eager for him to fuck her against the bookshelves. Now, she just looked irritated.
“Don’t tell me you’re backing down from a challenge, Maxwell.”
“You know I never do.” He made a decision on the spot.
Andrea was an easy choice. He always chose her over everyone else. Ten years of the perfect arrangement and perfect sex had taught him that coming home to Andrea was better than any one-night stand.
“I’ll call you back in ten.”
“Make it five, or forfeit,” she said before hanging up on him.
“All right. Let’s go,” he said briskly to the girl in his office.
The girl sat up on her elbows and stared up at him in disbelief. “Go where?”
“We’re leaving. I’m sending you home.”
“What?” she nearly shrieked.
“I’m not sleeping with you. Time for us to leave.”
Her hysterics didn’t seem to be working, so she changed tactics and gave him a seductive look. “What about your place?” Her eyes glittered with excitement.
“I don’t think so,” Clay said, bored.
It had been fun when it was a challenge. He liked challenges, but this was too easy. He could pick up any girl at a bar if he wanted to. At least put some fucking effort into it. And if he didn’t get her out of this damn office, he was going to miss his opportunity to put in all his effort.
“Time to leave.”
He yanked the door open without preamble. She pouted but had enough dignity not to say anything else. She begrudgingly followed him out the office, back down the hall, and outside. He had texted a cab service after hanging up with Andrea, and a cab was waiting for them when they made it into the fresh air.
“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this,” she said.
“Believe it.”
“Was that even your office?”
He smirked. “Obviously.”
“I don’t know who the fuck called that would make you want to spirit me away so quickly.” She looked down at the ground and then back into his eyes. “We could have had a really good time.”
“We could have,” he agreed. “But it was my girlfriend.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re an ass!”
She rushed into the cab and glared at him as the cab pulled away.