Page 135 of Rush

Between our hectic schedules, seeing Broderick will be difficult—and I need my fix of him before heading out on tour with Ava again.

He’s probably at work today, so I decide to bring him a little surprise—me.

With my phone pressed up to my ear I call his office.

“Hello, Goodman Enterprises. You’ve reached the office of Mr. Schwartz. This is Stacey—how may I help you?”

“Hello, this is…Belle from the Montgomery Group. I need an urgent meeting with Mr. Schwartz. Confidential matter. Can you clear his afternoon?”

My heart thuds rapidly, hoping this little ruse works.

“Mr. Schwartz has a personal lunch date and a team meeting, both of which I can move to tomorrow. I’ve cleared his afternoon for you.”

“Thank you.”

Relief washes over me—thankful for the Montgomery name coming in handy.

I dress carefully, pulling my hair into a high ponytail. I slip on a tailored coat—buttoned-up, no shirt beneath—just red lingerie, matching lipstick, and black sky-high designer heels. From the outside no one would suspect a thing. The thrill is intoxicating.

Tony drops me out front, and I head into the building, nerves bouncing with excitement as I ride the elevator up to his office. Stacey looks surprised to see me but says nothing as I head down the hall.

I don’t knock.

Broderick’s door swings open without resistance. He’s seated behind his desk, absorbed in his computer. I watch him for a moment—focused, older-looking like this. Intense.

“Mr. Schwartz,” I purr, leaning casually in the doorway, “is now a convenient time to discuss our agreement?”

His eyes snap up, startled, then darken as they take in my outfit.

“Belle from the Montgomery Group, is it?” He stands slowly, gaze heated.

I unbutton my coat, letting it fall open to reveal the surprise beneath. I step in letting the door close behind me.

“Damn, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”

The look on his face is worth every second of nerves. Like I’ve just handed him sin on a platter.

“Mr. Schwartz—your language,” I tease, voice dripping scandal. “I thought this was a respectable establishment.”

He crosses swiftly, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrap instinctively around his waist, mouth claiming mine fiercely as he carries me toward the boardroom table. He clears its surface in one swift sweep, papers scattering, setting me down roughly and tearing my coat away.

My lipstick smears across both our faces as he kisses me hungrily, working downward, slow and deliberate, lips pressing against every inch of skin.

“These,” he murmurs appreciatively, lifting one leg to admire my heels, “I want to fuck you with these on.”

“Yes, please.” My voice shakes, and I smirk, pressing a heel lightly into his chest, halting him playfully. “Mr. Schwartz, you’re far too dressed—it’s a conflict of interest.”

I lie back like a decadent offering, stripped to lace and red soles, watching him eagerly.

Broderick smiles, savoring it like something sweet, smeared lipstick all over his face. With one fluid motion, he pulls off his shirt, tossing it aside, pressing back down against me, grinding his hardness between my thighs.

“Elena,” he breathes roughly, “this is so…unexpected.”

“I wasn’t sure when we’d get the chance again.” I kiss him desperately. “I leave for Chicago in a few days—I need you.”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“I want it rough.”