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reason he was here. He knew Sam was about to throw himself wholeheartedly into the mission of fucking Maddy Marcos in as many ways possible before he fucked her over like he always did with his conquests, and Chet... didn't want that to happen.
    He liked Maddy . Entirely aside from her beautiful curves, each of which invited him to take the day off and drag her to a hotel and spend the afternoon eating room service and fucking like rabbits, she actually piqued his interest.
    It had been a long time since any woman had done that. For the longest time, it had been only Sam on Chet's mind. He didn't like this change. Two problems instead of one. And more problems if she and Sam started fooling around together.
    Weird emotions drifted up at the thought, and Chet stomped them down. He had to warn her off. And also get her out of his system.
    He glared across the table at Maddy , who was currently sucking whipped cream off a straw in ways that would make the head of HR have a heart attack.
    Knowledge was power. There was something about Maddy Marcos, and he intended to figure out what it was, and neutralize it.
     
    *
     
    Dear Penthouse, Maddy thought. I never thought it would happen to me, but there I was in the limo getting it from in front and behind from two of the hottest guys in the world. And they were my bosses! Then the next day I went out to coffee with one of them and he stared at me like a creeper for— she checked the clock on the wall— eight minutes and seventeen seconds. It was grand.
    Maddy had never had a threesome before—as far as she was concerned it was hard enough to get one guy to fuck her let alone two at once—so she wasn't sure of the etiquette of the morning-after coffee, but she was pretty certain even Emily Post would say that it was totally rude to glare without a word at the woman who gave you anal a scant few hours before. She didn't really have any idea how to broach the topic, though.
    Maybe he was regretting asking her out for coffee. Maybe she had been a bad lay, though the amount of cum she had to clean up sort of belied that thought. Maybe he was annoyed with himself for picking such a public place as the second floor coffee shop, even though they were the only two people here and the barista was stoned and playing Bubble Bobble on his phone. Or maybe there was something she should have done last night that she hadn't and he was, like, totally mad at her for it and giving her the silent treatment. Because that was something grownass men did.
    Okay, maybe not. Things were getting unbearable, though. She had to say something.
    “So you're looking creepy this morning,” she said.
    Ah. Smooth. Good going.
    It seemed to do the trick, though. Chet started slightly and his eyes focused on her face instead of her boobs. “I beg your pardon?”
    “You asked me out to coffee,” Maddy said, “but you've been glaring at me for almost ten minutes without saying a word. It's creepy.” She took a sip of her coffee and another thought struck her. “And I actually don't have stuff like break time, so I need to get back, you know, soonish . Rick might dock my pay.”
    His frown deepened. “Not for talking to the head of the company, surely?” he said.
    Haha . Oh, you. “Yeah, you don't know Rick.”
    “He sounds awful from the way you speak about him.”
    Realizing that she might be holding Rick's future job security in her hands, Maddy paused. Then, reluctantly, she admitted: “He's just doing his job.”
    “Mm,” he said. He leaned back and tented his fingers in front of him. He really did look like a Bond villain. Most of the time.
    Probably not when he's got his cock in your ass, though, Maddy thought, and blushed, the space between her legs heating at the memory. She shifted uncomfortably.
    “Anyway, why'd you ask me out to coffee anyway?” she asked. She couldn't quite keep the tiny note of hope out of her voice.
    Chet didn't seem to notice it. “I wanted to talk to you about