Everything's Better With Kimberly Read online

  Cover Design: Steamy Designs

  Cover Photo: David Prado Perucha

  Copyright © 2018 by Lucy Eden

  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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/ or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges the trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

  This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

  Contents

  Everything’s Better With Kimberly

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty one

  twenty two

  twenty three

  twenty four

  twenty five

  twenty six

  twenty seven

  twenty eight

  twenty nine

  thirty

  Epilogue

  The Soundtrack

  Author’s Note

  Notes from Paradise

  Also by Lucy Eden

  Melted

  Conquering the Goddess

  Capturing the Goddess

  Everything’s Better With You

  About the Author

  Every story is for my mom, who made me fall in love with reading & Ms. K, who made me fall in love with writing.

  Everything’s Better With Kimberly

  Kimberly Simmons is gorgeous, brilliant, and way out of my league. She’s definitely not the type to fall for a guy who walked away from his family's fortune to become an architect. Good thing, too, because she works for Wolfe Industries, making her completely off-limits. Nailing this pitch to Wolfe’s CEO is exactly what I need to make my bosses forget about the last time I mixed business with pleasure. Too bad she has the most beautiful brown eyes and dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. Too bad I can’t stop staring.

  Adam Price is a talented rising star architect at Will and Peking Designs. His newest design submission for The Wolfe Industries Caribbean Expansion is set to dazzle my CEO. If Adam's design wins, with my help, I could get promoted, which means his big strong arms and gorgeous lips are strictly forbidden. It’s a good thing, too, because he has a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts all over Manhattan and I’m pretty sure I couldn't survive a second heartbreak. Too bad every word he says makes me smile. Too bad he gives me a sense of calm I haven't felt in a long time.

  Keeping their relationship strictly professional for the sake of their jobs was the perfect excuse to stay away from each other. Too bad fate and undeniable chemistry have other plans…

  This standalone, workplace/forced proximity romance features characters from the previous novellas Everything’s Better With You and Cherishing the Goddess, is full of alphas and steam, and has NO cheating.

  TW: Anxiety Disorder

  Everything’s Better With Kimberly

  Lucy Eden

  one

  Kimberly

  Okay, Kimberly, breathe. You got this. It’s only an airplane. Airplanes fly hundreds of times a day, all day long. It’s the safest way to travel.

  I tried to keep calm and focus on the pep talk my brother, Cole, gave me when he dropped me off at the airport.

  “You got this, Stringbean. You’ve flown dozens of times. Only this time, you’ll be alone, which means you won’t have to fight me for the armrest or sit in RJ’s lethal gas clouds.” RJ was our younger brother. The memory made me smile, but it did little to calm my mounting terror.

  “Ma’am?” a female voice called to me and I jumped a mile when the flight attendant tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  No, I am not all right. I’m terrified. I can’t breathe, my heart is going to explode, and I’m pretty sure we are all going to die in this metal box being hurled into the air by science that I don’t understand.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I gave her a tight smile that felt more like a grimace. “Thank you for asking.” She didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just that I don’t fly very often and I’m a little nervous,” I stammered, and I could feel tears stinging my eyes.

  Damn it. She’s going to think I’m a lunatic and throw me off the plane.

  She gave me a pitying smile that I tried to return, but it felt like another grimace.

  “I think I might be able to help you. Follow me.” She moved toward the front of the cabin and I was sure she was going to lead me off the plane. I started to mentally calculate the best way to get to Barbados without flying.

  I could drive to the tip of Florida and what? Would I charter a boat or swim?

  Those ideas were crazy. Then I started thinking about how I would explain to my boss that I got kicked off of a plane on my way to work on my first international project. I struggled to keep my breath even when the flight attendant stopped and turned to face me.

  “Here you are!” she called brightly. “We had an extra first class seat. It’s a little more comfortable and spacious. It also comes with unlimited champagne. I’ll bring you a glass.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to eke out in a grateful whisper and sat down. After taking a deep breath, then another, I felt my heart rate slowly return to a normal pace.

  “Nervous flyer?” a deep voice asked from the seat next to me.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled while fumbling with my seat belt. Once the seat belt was secure, I looked up and my breath caught in my throat.

  Sitting in the other seat in my row was an impossibly gorgeous man.

  He was broad shouldered and muscular with blonde hair and hazel eyes. Even though he was seated, I could tell he was tall. The warm smile he gave me revealed two rows of perfect teeth. It was momentarily hypnotizing. He chuckled at my expression. This man was probably used to having women react that way to his perfectly formed face with just the right amount of facial hair. I imagined myself running my fingers through the scruff on his cheek and chin before pressing my lips to —

  “Your champagne, ma’am,” the flight attendant interrupted my thoughts, curtly, and I wondered if she was annoyed because she was waiting for me to collect my drink or because I was staring at my seat mate. It was probably both.

  “Thank you.” I gave her my sweetest smile, took the glass from her hands and placed it on my tray table. Rolling my eyes, I dropped the smile as soon as her back was turned and sank back into my seat, continuing to try to regulate my breath.

  “Aren’t you going drink that?” the handsome man next to me inquired.

  “It doesn’t always help,” I said quietly. “Sometimes, it makes it worse.” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud. I d
idn’t owe him an explanation but he seemed so genuinely concerned.

  “How long have you been having panic attacks?” he asked matching my quiet tone.

  Shocked, I turned to look at him. How did he know?

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that I used to see them all the time at school. I studied architecture at Pratt and it was pretty intense. One of my friends used to—”

  Wait. Did he say he studied architecture at Pratt? He’s also drop-dead gorgeous and on the same flight to Barbados? What were the odds?

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but are you Adam Price?”

  It was his turn to be shocked and he smiled again. “I am. How did you know that?”

  The Man-Whore. I was sitting next to the Man-Whore.

  “Just a guess.” I shrugged.

  “Well, I assume from your sudden change of expression my reputation precedes me.”

  My poker face needed some serious work. I tried to plaster on a professional smile. “You studied architecture at The Pratt Institute for both undergrad and grad school. You’ve worked on an impressive number of international projects before becoming the youngest senior architect at Will and Peking Design. Now, you’re on your way to Barbados to pitch WP for a hospitality project for Wolfe Industries.”

  “That’s pretty impressive and spot on.” He nodded appreciatively. “Who are you?”

  “Thanks,” I said with a nod, feeling like I’d dodged a very uncomfortable bullet. “I’m Kimberly Simmons. I work for Wolfe. I’ll be working with you on the pitch.”

  I extended my hand to shake and he accepted, engulfing my dark slender hand in his huge pale one. It briefly reminded me of a Gap ad. My heart started to race again, but in a good way. This conversation had succeeded in drawing my attention elsewhere and I started to feel like myself again. I tried to withdraw my hand from his grasp and noticed he hadn’t relinquished his grip, not that I minded. I’d make sure not to let him know that.

  “And that’s all you’ve heard about me?” His voice became a low, sexy growl.

  My eyes narrowed and I steeled myself. I was prepared for this, though I didn’t think I was his type. Maybe Man-Whores didn’t have a type.

  “No.” I smiled innocently, pulling my hand back and placing it in my lap. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Hmm.” He smirked, but seemed thoroughly unconvinced.

  We sat in awkward silence through the inflight announcements. I organized my laptop, headphones and tablet; all the things I brought to help me get through the flight. My hand briefly closed around the little plastic prescription bottle—that I hoped I wouldn’t need—in the inner pocket of my tote, just in case. I glanced over at Adam and he was sketching on a large tablet with a stylus. It was a large rustic house with wood and stone exteriors. He’d created an odd combination of a log cabin, a ski chalet and a mansion, but it worked together beautifully. He caught me looking and smiled.

  “You know,” he said, smirking, “most people would consider it rude to read over someone’s shoulder.”

  “You know,” I replied, returning his sly smile, “most people would assume that someone who’d invest in an obnoxiously large tablet doesn’t prioritize discretion.”

  “Discretion happens to be one of my specialties.” His smile never faltered. I didn’t answer him and was glad he couldn’t tell I was blushing. “An obnoxiously large tablet is a requirement for the job,” he said, mimicking me. “It’s a passion project of mine. I plan on building it myself in Upstate New York.” He held the large tablet out for me to see. I shot him a wary glance before looking down. It was breathtaking. He scrolled through the plans, explaining all the details and he sounded like a kid describing his favorite new toy.

  “—an open floor plan, of course. These large kitchen windows would face east, so when I’m having breakfast in the morning I can watch the sunrise. The windows in the dining area,” he scrolled to the next rendering, “would face the west for sunsets—” I’d never heard someone so excited about natural sunlight. It was very endearing.

  No, Kimberly. You will not find the Man-Whore endearing.

  “It’s very nice.” I said, giving him a small smile. Then I tried to focus on something else, anything else, but his forearm on my armrest, the way his eyes lit up when he described the atrium he was planning for the center of his house or the small playground in the backyard. I put in my earbuds and Sade began singing to me about a quiet storm. Closing my eyes, I drew in deep calming breaths. Then the plane started to taxi down the runway.

  I forced my breaths to become longer and slower as I tried to recreate the breathing exercises Dr. Marquez recommended, but it did nothing to slow my heart rate. My heart was throwing itself against my chest as if it were trying to break through my ribcage. My body pressed into the seat back as the plane ascended, but instead of just feeling an incline, I felt like I was tumbling head over heels like Alice down the rabbit hole. I wanted to scream, and I must have made some sound of distress because my hand was suddenly encased in warmth.

  “Hey!” It was Adam’s voice.

  I didn’t feel him remove my earbuds. Sade wasn’t singing anymore, and it sounded like he was calling to me from the end of a tunnel. The more he said my name, the louder and clearer his voice became.

  “Hey, Kimberly. Look at me. Look. At. Me.”

  I forced my eyes open and turned to face him. His handsome face was calm but his eyes were full of concern.

  “You’re going to be fine.”

  That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t dying.

  “Just breathe.”

  I was trying to breathe.

  “In through your nose.”

  I focused on his words and drew in a deep breath through my nostrils and held it.

  “Out through your mouth.” I did as he said.

  “Again,” he ordered, and breathed with me.

  After five breaths, I started to feel a little better, but I was still spinning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the flight attendant approaching, her face full of apprehension. My heart started pounding again. Adam held up his hand and she backed away.

  “Look at me. Stay with me.”

  He clasped my hand with both of his. I hoped he would never let go. I felt like his hands were the only things keeping me tethered to reality. If he let go, I would float away.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “What?” I managed to say but it sounded like a croak.

  “Tell me what you see. Name five things that you see right now.”

  “I don’t underst—”

  “Just do it.”

  “I see, um, I see…a headrest.” I forced myself to look at him again. He smiled and nodded to encourage me.

  “That’s one.”

  “Your tablet.”

  “That’s two.”

  “Your eyes.” Damn it. Did I actually say that?

  “That’s three.” Then he grinned. “Are you flirting with me in the middle of a panic attack?”

  “No, I’m not, I…” I stammered.

  “Hey, I’m into it.”

  His golden brown eyes glittered with mirth. I laughed with him, more out of relief than anything else. I was starting to feel okay again. Every breath felt like a gift. My world was no longer spinning. I took a few sips of water and sat in silence for a long time, embracing the calm.

  Adam held my right hand with his left, pulled out his tablet and read a book, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t fuss over me. He didn’t ask me if I was okay a million times. He didn’t embarrass me. He just knew that I was all right and let me be, but still held my hand. It was the kindest thing anyone—who wasn’t a relative— had ever done for me, and I was feeling guilty for judging him so harshly.

  He will charm the panties right off of you. Be careful.

  Was I being charmed? Was Adam Price taking advantage of a vulnerable woman? I was so grateful for him in that moment and I didn’t want to believe that a p
erson who could be so sweet and attentive to a total stranger could be so manipulative. I also didn’t believe he would behave the same way if I were a man who’d just had a panic attack.

  Adam Price wouldn’t be the first to try to get into my pants; if that’s what he was trying to do. I had to think about my career and I’d received very clear warnings about him. If I ignored them and ruined this opportunity, I’d only have myself to blame.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to hold his hand for a little while longer.

  A little longer turned out to be the entire flight, with breaks for eating, a trip to the bathroom—one for him, one for me—and a couple of crossword puzzles. I also managed to nap for a couple of hours. He was holding my hand when I fell asleep and was still holding it when I woke up.

  I felt a little guilty allowing myself to enjoy this hand holding for so long—a little less guilty when I got some major side eye from the flight attendant—but he had such a calming effect on me. Still, I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  The landing was far less traumatic than the take off, and I couldn’t be sure, but I think Adam was purposely trying to keep my focus on him.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who clap when the plane lands,” he said with the corners of his mouth curling. He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. It was sending waves of heat throughout my body. My cheeks flushed, my chest tightened and I felt a tingling between my thighs.