Born To Be More

Falling

Raine

Waking up to Max is an absolute f*****g highlight, let me tell you. Christ—he's all chiseled muscle and pure sin, and I’m drooling the second I open my eyes to find him between my legs.

Any woman who says she wakes up looking beautiful is a liar. Normally, I’d be diving for the bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my hair—but when a god of a man is moaning into you like he’s sipping his first morning coffee and licking you like you’re his favorite ice cream?

Yeah. Who the hell cares.

I lift the blanket to find Max grinning up at me like the smug, irresistible bastard he is. He winks, then goes right back to what he was doing.

“f**k, Max…” I moan, my voice catching.

And then I purr.

Wait—did I just purr?

What the actual f**k? I giggle, even as my thighs tighten around his shoulders. Well, that’s new.

“So wet for me, Angel,” he murmurs against me, his voice gravelly with want. “Mmm, I might have to stay over every night.”

Honestly, I’m not sure I’d mind.

I arch into him, gripping his hair as heat coils in my belly. “Jesus, Max—I’m close—”

He blows gently on my c**t, then sucks hard, pulling a desperate cry from me as my orgasm crashes over my body like a tidal wave. I collapse back against the sheets, breathless, pulsing.

Max doesn’t wait. He climbs over me and slides into me in one deep, perfect thrust.

Raine

“Oh my god—yes!” I scream as Max slams into me.

He laughs darkly, “Good morning, baby,” and thrusts harder, his hips hitting mine with relentless force.

My orgasm starts to build again—tight and fiery—and I can see the strain in his face, the wild glint in his eyes. He pulls out suddenly, flipping me onto my hands and knees before plunging back in from behind.

“I’m going to have this tight little ass, Angel,” he growls low in my ear. “Not this morning—but soon.”

He spanks me hard, the sharp sting igniting a spark across my skin as he drives deeper into me. I clench around him, aching to let go.

Max reaches forward, pinching my c**t with just the right pressure—and that’s it. My body explodes, trembling violently as my release pours out of me, soaking him.

“f**k, Angel—” he growls as he tenses behind me.

With a few more punishing thrusts, he comes with a deep, guttural moan, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulses inside me.

I went with a short leather skirt, a slinky cami, and a cropped jacket today—paired with boots that made my legs look like a damn runway ad. Max is already waiting, a coffee in hand, eyes dragging over every inch of me like he's mentally undressing me.

“If you’re going to ogle me like that, you might as well make me a coffee too,” I say, smirking.

His grin is pure wickedness. “Come get your coffee, Angel,” he purrs, eyes locked on my chest like it’s his personal morning motivation.

Jesus, the man could probably screw all day without getting dehydrated.

“I think I’m safer on this side of the counter,” I shoot back playfully, stepping behind the breakfast bar and giving him a knowing smile.

But Max doesn’t play fair.

He vaults over the counter like it’s nothing—just a smooth, dominant leap that lands him right in front of me. My breath catches.

“I will always get to you, my Angel,” he murmurs, pinning me with that dark stare before kissing the air straight out of my lungs.

A knock at the door signals Caine’s arrival. Max opens it to reveal him, followed closely by Sam and Rion.

“I found these two lurking around reception,” Caine says with a smirk.

“Morning, guys,” I say, earning a collective chorus of greetings from Sam and Rion.

Max hands me a coffee with that damn sexy smile, and I could honestly cry with gratitude. He kisses my cheek, then steps aside with Rion and Sam to talk shop.

Caine pours himself a coffee and joins me at the breakfast counter.

“Alright Raine, we’ve got a packed day ahead,” he begins. “You wanted to check out the gym near the office, so we’ll head there first. Then we’re due to proof your photos from yesterday—some of the board members will be there. After that, lunch with my uncle downtown to go over the details of your contract.”

He pauses to sip his coffee before continuing, “This afternoon, you’ll meet with Tiffany so you can go over her duties and set your daily schedule. Your agent’s already fielding requests from contacts eager to meet you, so Tiffany can start organizing your meet-and-greets.”

“Thank you, Caine. I really appreciate you helping me get sorted,” I say sincerely.

He waves me off with a smile. “No worries at all. Once Tiffany settles in, you’ll see me less, but I’ll still oversee your Chic contract.”

“Cool,” I reply, glancing over to where Max is deep in conversation with Rion and Sam. He looks tense—shoulders stiff, jaw set.

I walk over. “Max, is everything okay?”

He exhales and exchanges a look with Rion.

“Rainey,” he says gently, “the visitor from yesterday… he fits the description of Mark Thompson. The guy from the plane.”

My blood runs cold. I stop breathing for a beat, my stomach turning.

Max steps in and wraps his arms around me, grounding me. “Rion’s pulling the footage now to confirm, but it looks like him. You’ve got security around the clock, and I’m staying with you every night. No one’s getting near you, not on my watch.”

“We’ve got you, Raine,” Rion adds, his voice steady.

I tilt my head up and meet Max’s eyes. He pulls me tighter, fierce and protective.

“I’ll find him before he gets anywhere near you, Angel,” he growls softly.

The fear bubbles under the surface, but I swallow it down. I’m not going to let some obsessed creep derail everything.

“Well, I’m not letting that d**k-wad ruin my week. Let’s go, Caine,” I say, straightening my jacket.

Caine chuckles and heads for the door, Sam falling in step behind him.

“I’ll walk you down,” Max says, grabbing his keys without waiting for a reply.

He eyes the lifts and raises an eyebrow at the guys.

“Yes, we know,” Caine says with a laugh. “Take another lift.”

I giggle. For the second day in a row, Max has hijacked the morning just to say goodbye in private—making the rest of the crew wait or reroute so he can kiss me without an audience.

“Angel, I’ll see you at lunch for your agent meeting,” he says with that sexy smirk.

“What? Why would you be there?” I ask, instantly suspicious.

“Caine’s uncle and his son are good friends of mine. He invited me. I couldn’t resist another lunch with you. Is that okay?” he asks, feigning innocence.

I narrow my eyes. “Um… I guess,” I say, frowning just enough to let him know I’m onto him.

He smiles and leans in, kissing me slow and deep, soft and intimate—so much so that I forget where I am, who’s watching, and why my knees feel like pudding.

And then—I purr.

Again.

What the actual hell?

The ding of the lift doors reaching the foyer breaks us apart, and Max steps out looking completely unaffected while I stumble forward, flushed and very much turned on.

I glare at his smug, collected expression as he places a light hand on the small of my back and leads me toward the doors.

He has no idea what’s coming.

An evil little plan begins to form in my mind.

Game on, Mr. Wolf.

We part ways in the foyer and I walk out ahead with Caine. Just before reaching the car, I accidentally-on-purpose stumble and lean forward to adjust my boot, giving Max a perfect view of my ass—my skirt riding up just enough to make a statement.

I smirk to myself as I straighten, then stroll toward the car like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth.

Caine catches on immediately, eyes dancing with amusement. “Get in. Quick,” he chuckles, opening the door for me. “Your boyfriend’s two seconds away from dragging you back upstairs and making you late for everything.”

I slide in and shut the door just as I glance back.

Max is standing on the curb, jaw tight, eyes locked on me with a look that screams possessive fury and filthy promises.

Uh oh, I think, biting my lip to keep from smiling.

Totally worth it.

We weave through traffic and stop off at the gym. It’s sleek, state-of-the-art, and open 24/7 with a full reception and security. One of the owners gives me a personal tour, showing off the weight rooms, recovery suites, and a dizzying list of classes. I leave with a folder of personal trainer profiles and a few strong recommendations.

As we head toward Chic, my phone pings with a message from Max.

Max Wolf:

That was a dirty little act, Raine. Do you know how many other men saw you bend over like that this morning? If you don’t want me getting into trouble for protecting what’s mine, I suggest you don’t do that again. I believe a punishment will be in order too.

I bite back a grin and type back:

Angel:

What are you talking about?

He replies instantly.

Max Wolf:

You know exactly what I’m talking about, little wolf. I’ll see you at lunchtime.

Little wolf? My stomach flips.

Angel:

Little wolf? I like it. See you at lunch xx

Max Wolf:

xx

I stare at the screen a second longer than I should, a slow heat curling low in my belly.

Shit. I’m in trouble. And I like it.

I sent him kisses.

Kisses. What the actual hell is wrong with me?

I’ve never done that before. Not to any guy.

I feel like a needy i***t, and the worst part? I like it. I’m falling hard, and fast, and it’s messing with my head.

“Raine, you ready?” Caine asks, pulling up outside Chic.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” I say, shaking off the internal chaos just as Sam opens my door.

“Stick close to me, Raine,” he says, and the tone in his voice has me instantly on guard.

The moment I step out, a wall of media swarms us—cameras flashing, voices shouting, a frenzy of sound and movement. I force a smile and give a small wave, trying to appear composed and not like I want to run back to the car.

Sam stays close, shielding me as we weave through the noise and into the safety of the building’s foyer.

But just before the doors close behind us, I pause.

Out of the corner of my eye—

Was that…?

No.

No, I must be seeing things.

I thought I saw Mark, lurking off to the side in the crowd.

But maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe I’m letting Max’s warning this morning mess with my head.

Still, my skin crawls, and suddenly I’m not sure if I feel safe anymore.

Walking into the executive conference room, I stop short—my face everywhere. Massive prints from yesterday’s shoots cover the walls, and before I can process it, the entire room erupts into applause.

Oh, God.

I freeze for a second, then force a smile and nod as gracefully as I can. What else am I supposed to do?

“Congratulations, Raine!” Mr. Parkes calls out. He strides over and shakes my hand enthusiastically. “You did a great job. What you brought to the studio yesterday was electric. The team’s still buzzing about it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I manage, cheeks flaming.

“Let’s all take a seat and look at the proofs from yesterday’s shoot,” he says, waving everyone to the long glass table.

The lights dim slightly as the screen flickers on. The first set scrolls by—the early cube shots—and Mr. Parkes frowns, rubbing his chin.

“Good God, she looks bored as hell,” he mutters.

I bite back a smirk. I was bored. Beyond bored. The kind of bored that makes you question your career choices.

Then the dancing photos start rolling, and the mood in the room shifts. Smiles. Nods. Someone even chuckles.

“Nice one, Raine,” Mr. Parkes says, grinning now.

Just then, the coffee cart rolls in and my eyes lock on it like it’s salvation. Caine catches the look and chuckles beside me.

“Shut up, Caine,” I whisper through the side of my mouth.

“Your infatuation with coffee is... impressive,” he teases, shrugging.

He’s not wrong.

“Alright, people—let’s move on to the next session,” Mr. Parkes announces, motioning for the screens to switch over.

The next photographer leans forward in his seat, clearing his throat. “These were initially set up as standard test shots, Sir. But it wasn’t until Raine took over that everything shifted. I’ll admit, at first, I was thrown off by her... enthusiasm to change things—but the results speak for themselves. I’d be honored to work with her again.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Wait, what? I could’ve sworn he wanted to strangle me yesterday.

As the screen starts flicking through the paint shoot images, the room falls silent.

One photo flashes up—paint flying at me from two directions mid-laugh—and I burst out laughing. The timing, the colors, my expression—it’s chaos and joy in one perfect frame.

Gasps and murmurs ripple around the room. Even Mr. Parkes is smiling now.

“Raine, these are perfect,” he says firmly. “You turned an expensive test shoot into branded content we can actually use—bold, fresh, and on message. I’m very glad I met you that day in New Zealand, young lady. I had a feeling you’d be something special.”

I feel my cheeks warm again. “Thank you, Sir. I’m grateful to be part of Chic, and I appreciate you all letting me get a little... creative yesterday.”

A few chuckles and plenty of smiles follow.

Mr. Parkes stands. “I’ve marked several shots for immediate publication. I want them live by 3 p.m.—peak traffic window. Let’s make sure everything is cleared and ready to go.”

There’s a wave of motion as assistants and execs start taking notes and confirming next steps.

I sit back for a moment, exhaling slowly. Okay... maybe I didn’t completely mess this up after all.

We step out into the foyer of Chic when my phone starts ringing. I glance at the screen—Lacy.

“Hello?” I answer, already smiling.

“b***h, you are all over the media here—what the hell is going on?” Lacy’s voice explodes through the speaker.

“Oh my God, Lacy! Babe, I miss you!” I laugh, trying to keep my voice down.

“Yeah yeah, love you too—but seriously, are you okay? You’re on TV, the radio, every gossip page—girl, you’re the talk of the freakin’ town.”

I blink. “Wait... I made the news? In New Zealand?”

“Uh-huh. Headlines. Everywhere. You’ve gone international, bitch.”

Wow. I don’t know whether to feel proud or panicked.

“I’m okay, honestly,” I reassure her. “I’ve got security, an assistant who starts today, and… a boyfriend.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then—

“Hold up. You have a boyfriend? When exactly were you planning to tell me this? Is he hot? Is he good? Come on, girl—spill the damn tea.”

I laugh, dropping my voice. “Yes, I have a boyfriend. It’s Max—from the plane.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Nope. Very much not shut up. And before you ask—yes, he’s amazing. But I can’t exactly talk about how good he is in bed right now, considering I’m in a public foyer, surrounded by his security team.”

I glance at Sam, who’s conveniently looking in the other direction—shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh my God, I need details tonight. You better call me later.”

“I will, I promise. Either tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“You better, ho. Love you.”

“Love you too. Talk soon.” I hang up, still smiling.

I slip my phone away, but a little worry creeps in. So this is what it’s like… everyone knowing your business. I don’t know how to feel about that. I guess I better get used to it.