Crossing the Line Read online

  Crossing the Line

  It’s Complicated - Book One

  Maggie Cole

  Pulse Press

  This book is fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All names, characters, plots, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Maggie Cole

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Free Gift For You

  PSST - I have a short story that you’re going to love and I want to give it to you for free! It’s CROSSING THE LINE 1.5!

  This short story sequel is a follow up to Noah and Piper’s story, so don’t read it until you have finished reading Book One of the It’s Complicated Series, Crossing the Line!

  Give it to me now Maggie!! (Click here)

  From time to time, I’ll email you juicy new freebie stories and let you know about my new books. But don’t worry, I’ll keep your email safe and won’t share it with anyone or abuse it.

  Promise!

  Don’t forget to check out Don’t Forget Me, book two of the It’s Complicated series. The blurb and prologue are at the end of this book for you to check out!

  Also, I have a huge favor to ask you! If you enjoyed reading this book, please leave me a nice rating and review on the platform you bought this novel.

  Thanks so much for all your support!

  Maggie Cole

  PS - Don’t forget to check out my first series, ALL IN if you haven’t read it yet!

  To my Launch Team,

  You make me laugh EVERY SINGLE DAY.

  Thank you!

  This one’s for you!

  XOXO

  Maggie Cole

  PS - CHEERS TO BLUE LACE AND CHAOS

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Don’t Forget Me Blurb

  Don’t Forget Me - Prologue

  More by Maggie Cole

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Lava. It ignites in my toes and slowly oozes its way up my body.

  Bubbling.

  Scorching.

  Erupting.

  He hasn’t touched me, but I can feel him. Stalking. Obsessing. Preparing.

  Click goes the lock, and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. The earthy, clean scent of him flares in my nostrils, and my stomach flips with anticipation.

  Paralyzed on the outside, I don’t move. This can’t happen again. Tell him to go away. Remind him it’s over.

  Indecent thoughts, my racing heartbeat, and my throbbing insides consume me as my breath becomes more shallow.

  Like a feral animal, he creeps toward me, and the click of the heel of his shoes hit the wooden floor as I sit completely still with little pulses of desire bursting against my skin.

  One finger traces my spine down from the top of my blouse, over my bra, and to the band of my skirt.

  Gulping, I close my eyes as my pulse increases, fighting my thirst for him against my rational, in a tug-of-war with myself.

  Don’t do it.

  Do it.

  Remind him it can never be.

  Just one more time.

  Warm breath flows on my skin as his lips brush against the curve of my neck. Hands roughly grab my hips as my chair rolls away from the desk and into his body.

  Lava bubbles hotter in my veins, as his lips and tongue tease my ear.

  Nibbling me.

  Licking me.

  Sucking me.

  My eyes are still closed as I swallow hard, inhale sharply, and try to figure out how to stop him. As if reading my thoughts, he growls, “Tell me you want me to leave, and I’ll leave.”

  Tell him. It’s what’s best.

  Words won’t flow out of my mouth, as his lips trace my jawline, and his hands skim the sides of my skirt and move to the insides of my thighs.

  A loud moan escapes, and my body betrays my mind and begins to win the war, as he whispers against my cheek, “No one will be in the building for hours.”

  Thumbs circle my inner thighs, creeping up toward my heat that’s turning damper with every stroke. My body shudders from his touch. He gently laughs in my ear before inching his hands up and gliding his fingers into the side of my wet panties.

  In one final attempt, my logic tries to drag me back. It can never be with him. Tell him no.

  But you want him.

  His two fingers, one from each hand, slide in me and curl different ways, and I whimper against him. Stubble from his jaw scrapes against my chin. In a clear, emotionless voice, he demands, “Tell me to go. Tell me you don’t want me.”

  And I try. I try the best I can to tell him to go, but I can’t get the words out. At that moment, I hate myself more than I’ve ever hated him.

  He flicks his thumb against me and I spiral, trembling against him as he whispers, “Tonight, you’re mine.”

  Lust wins. He’ll once again claim me and destroy me, in just this one night.

  1

  Piper

  “Everyone has a price. You just aren’t admitting yours,” Quinn, one of my best friends, insists.

  Another of my besties, Vivian, replies, “What’s yours? Fifty bucks?”

  Quinn snorts. “I wish I was that cheap! Things would be so much easier!”

  “How would it be easier?” Charlotte, my third bestie, asks.

  Quinn laughs. “I could move and escape my boss.”

  “Yeah, but you’d miss us!” I exclaim.

  “Truth,” Quinn admits.

  “Well, what’s your price, then?” I ask.

  Quinn takes a minute then leans in as if she’s about to tell a really big secret. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  I throw a french fry at Quinn, and she shrieks.

  “You’re all talk, girl!” Vivian tilts her head at me. “In all seriousness, Piper, what’s your price?”

  “I don’t have a price.”

  Quinn snorts. “Liar.”

  I shrug. “I love my job. I don’t want to work anywhere else.”

  “You still have a price,” Quinn claims.

  “Nope! You know I love what I do, and the people I work with are awesome. You’d have to drag me out at gunpoint!” It is the truth. I love my career at Bennett Parker. During my internship, while getting my masters in finance, I secured a spot at the notorious investment capital firm. Bennett Parker is the largest investment capital firm in the Midwest and third largest in the country. The original owner, Bennett Parker, has run the firm since he created it back in 1984. During
my internship, I reported directly to him. He is a rare breed and likes to work with the interns so he can teach them about his trade. Mr. Parker, who insists everyone call him Bennett, was so impressed with my work that upon graduation, I earned a full-time position. Five years into my career, I have already become the youngest person to rise to not just a first-level, but a fourth-level director, one level below vice president.

  Vivian rolls her eyes. “How can you possibly love it that much? You crunch numbers all day!”

  “Exactly!” Quinn agrees.

  “That’s not all I do, but what’s wrong with that?” In all honesty, I can’t understand why they don’t love numbers as much as I do. “Numbers represent facts and absolute truths. Two plus two equals four, and there is no maybe this or maybe that.”

  Charlotte groans. “That’s so boring. Where is the za-za zing in that?”

  “The za-za zing? Is that what you call what you do all day?” I chime in.

  “Hey, getting to be in surgery is way more entertaining than number crunching!” Charlotte is a medical device sales rep, and she directs the doctors during surgeries on which parts they need to use.

  I shudder slightly. “Blood is not my thing.”

  “Agree!” Quinn and Vivian say at the same time.

  Charlotte points at Quinn. “What could you possibly not be happy about? Your battery going dead?”

  She smirks. “Ha, ha!” Quinn is an editor and gets paid to read steamy romance novels all day.

  “Charlotte has an excellent point! If only we could all be so lucky,” Vivian points out.

  I jerk my head toward Vivian. “What’s wrong with real estate? I thought you loved it?” Vivian quickly is on her way to becoming one of the top real estate agents in the Chicago area.

  She smirks. “Nothing is wrong with real estate, but it doesn’t exactly keep me warm at night as I’m sure Quinn’s job does.”

  Quinn groans. “Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you that the real thing is better than B.O.B.? While I love my job, if I don’t get laid soon, and not by B.O.B., I’m going to hit a new record.”

  “What’s that? Two weeks?” I tease her.

  Quinn nudges me. “Ha, ha! Very funny.”

  “Don’t feel too bad, I don’t think any of us are getting much these days. There seems to be a dry spell going on around here,” Charlotte says.

  “What are you talking about? Loverboy not keeping you warm?” Quinn asks.

  Charlotte sighs. “I think it’s almost quitting time.”

  “No! I like Damon!” I tell her.

  “Yep. The heat’s not there anymore. I can’t seem to get it back.”

  Vivian puts her hand over Charlotte’s. “You okay?”

  Charlotte shifts in her seat. “I’ll be fine. But I need to break it off, and you know how fun that is. Plus, I’ll still have to engage with him. Lesson to all you ladies: don’t sleep with anyone you work with.”

  We all nod in agreement as my alarm goes off.

  “Sorry, ladies, but I’m going to need to go. Bennett called a meeting for managers and higher today.” I pull out some cash and slap it down on the table.

  “Have fun crunching your numbers. Let me know when you figure out what your real number is!” Quinn smirks at me.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I tell her.

  It’s only a half-block walk back to the Bennett Parker building, but there’s been an accident, and the sidewalk is blocked off. The police are redirecting the pedestrians through one of the side streets.

  Normally I wouldn’t care because it’s a beautiful April day, and it’s nearing seventy degrees, so I didn’t even wear a jacket.

  But the detour has me hustling to make it on time. I’m two streets away when the sunny sky turns darker, and, out of nowhere, rain pours down on me.

  Running down the street, I’m almost in front of the building when my heel catches in one of the iron grates. Suddenly, I’m flying across the pavement.

  For a brief moment, I lie on the street while people continue to run around me. Pain courses through my knee as blood runs down my shin, mixed with the rainwater. “Shit!”

  Slowly, I get up and hobble the remaining way to the front door, past building security, and up to my office floor.

  When I get off the elevator, the office is hopping as usual. Tammy glances up from the receptionist’s desk. “Good Lord! What happened to you?”

  I cringe and shrug. “Rain. Running. Heels. Pavement.”

  “Yikes! You okay?”

  I realize I could probably represent a drowned rat. “I’ll be fine. Did the meeting already begin?”

  “Yep.”

  Crap. I debate about going to the bathroom but decide, what’s the point? I don’t have a change of clothes or a hair dryer. I tug at my curls that are now drenched with rainwater.

  Goose bumps pop out on my skin as I get a chill from being so wet. I walk into my personal office, pick up my padfolio, and continue down the hall to the conference room.

  In the five years I’ve worked at Bennett Parker, I’ve never been late for any meeting. My insides flip a bit. Not because I think Bennett will reprimand me—he is nothing short of one of the kindest men I know—but because I am always early. Being late just isn’t in my blood.

  Thinking of blood, I quickly peek at my leg, which has blood and dirt all over it, and I realize that the entire front of my body is dirty, wet, and my skirt is ripped halfway up my thigh.

  Ugh. A quick thought that maybe I should try to clean myself up a bit first goes through my mind, but I remind myself that Bennett sent a memo that this was a very important, required meeting. I take a deep breath and open the door to the conference room.

  Everyone’s head is turned toward Bennett. The only seat left is up near the front, so I quickly scurry up there. Bennett is talking and stops. “Piper, are you all right?”

  “Sorry. There was an accident. I got detoured a block. Then I ran in the rain and caught my heel.” Making a funny face to Bennett, I continue to the front of the room.

  “Are you okay? Do you need a first aid kit?” Bennett asks, concerned.

  “I’ll clean up after the meeting. Sorry to interrupt.”

  When I turn to sit in my chair, I freeze. My heart beats in my throat, my mouth goes dry, and my gaze locks into his.

  The stranger is the most gorgeous piece of eye candy with a body to match I’ve ever come across. He can be the poster child for tall, dark, and handsome. If it wasn’t for his facial expression, I would be friendly and introduce myself.

  He is scowling, and his eyes drift down my body, pausing a bit too long at my chest. My face heats. I now realize my tits are hard and visible because of my wet blouse.

  I seriously should consider wearing padded bras to prepare for the next time I’m caught in a rainstorm.

  Mr. Eye Candy gawks a bit too long at my thigh, which is sticking out through my ripped skirt, before he glowers at me.

  Who the hell is this guy?

  The only vacant chair is next to him. He pushes it out and growls, “Have a seat.”

  Cautiously, I sit down and turn my attention back to Bennett. But I hardly hear anything he is discussing as I feel the stranger studying me, his clean, earthy scent wafting into my nostrils.

  Who does this guy think he is, staring me down like this? I’m a director at this company. Show some respect.

  Bennett turns to his secretary to ask a few questions, and I lean into the stranger and whisper, “I know you’re new, but we smile around here. Plus, it’s rude to stare.”

  “Is that so?” he challenges.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your position here, Piper?”

  Typically, I’m not one to throw my weight around, but I figure he’s only a few years older than me and surely a few ranks below me. I am, after all, the youngest person with director status in the history of the firm. But his behavior is pissing me off. I confidently, and a bit cockily, reply, “Fourth-level
director.”

  I’m about to ask him his position and name, but his focus drifts down to the table.

  When I sat, I had crossed my legs. Glancing down, I’m horrified. My entire thigh is exposed, due to the rip. A hint of my crotch, covered in my lacy blue panties, is showing. My hand automatically flies to cover up my panties, and I realize that I’m now touching myself as well.

  He starts to lick his lip but catches himself and pulls his tongue back into his mouth.

  Uncrossing my legs, I cross them again, reversing the position, but it’s no use. It gets worse, and my panties are revealed even more.

  The stranger’s gaze moves from my face to my lap and back to my face again. Heat burns through me, and his chest moves quicker with his breathing.

  He grabs my padfolio, opens it up, and turns it upside down before placing it over my lap, while still staring into my eyes.

  Suddenly, I’m snapped out of our moment. The room is clapping, and he’s standing up and walking to the front and shaking Bennett’s hand.

  Not knowing what is going on, I look at the big screen behind Bennett and the stranger. My gut drops.

  On the screen, his profile picture, bio, and title are on it, with a big Welcome to Bennett Parker, Chicago.

  His name is Noah Parker. His title is Co-CEO, and he’s Bennett Parker’s successor.

  2