Revved to the Maxx

by Melanie Moreland

  I knew what she meant. His courtesy, and the manners he had when he wasn’t growling at me. The way he dealt with people. He was kind and thoughtful. Under the right circumstances, tender. I had certainly experienced that part of him. Those traits were rare and special. I wouldn’t want to change that part of him at all.

  “Did she do that?” I asked hesitantly. “Try to change him?”

  Her nod and the swinging of her foot were the only affirmation I needed. I returned her gaze, not needing to speak. We understood each other.

  We sat in companionable silence, enjoying the quiet.

  “I suppose I should get going,” I said regretfully just as the sound of a rumbling engine broke the stillness.

  Maxx’s truck pulled into the driveway, his face like thunder behind the wheel.

  “Uh oh,” I muttered. “The bear is back.”

  He got out of the truck, slamming the door. He stalked up to the steps, looking at us without saying a word.

  “Maxx,” Mary greeted him. “Something on your mind?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. By now, I realized it was one of his tells when he was upset and about to tell me off.

  “Nope,” he said shortly.

  “You were just driving by?” Mary asked, amusement lacing her voice.

  “Something like that.”

  “I was about to drive Charly home.”

  “I’ll save you the trip and take her. You ready, Charly?” he asked, his voice telling me, no matter what, I was ready. Now.

  I stood. “Yep.” I turned and hugged Mary. “Thanks for the girls’ night.”

  “We should do this every week,” Mary insisted.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you.”

  “Oh, interesting,” Maxx said in a snarky tone. “You can call her.” He stomped to the truck. “I’m waiting.”

  I exchanged glances with Mary, slightly shrugging my shoulders.

  I climbed into the truck, the wine making me a little uncoordinated. Maxx watched me, not helping, a scowl on his face.

  He backed out of the driveway quickly, before I could even put my seat belt on. He didn’t say a word, but I felt his anger rolling off of him. He turned into his driveway, pulling up in front of the house and braking hard. He slammed out of the truck, walking toward the house. Feeling angry now myself, I followed him.

  “Crap on a cracker, what is your problem?” I shouted, chasing him into the house.

  He whirled around. “My problem? My problem? You have a serious lack of communication skills, Charly.”

  “What are you on about?”

  “I come in and find you gone. Your bag is here, your laptop on the table. No sign of you. Dinner is in the oven, so I figured you went to your room, but you never showed up to eat—even later. So, I went looking for you, but you weren’t there. I had no fucking idea where you were. No way to call you since your phone was in your bag!” By the end of his diatribe, he was yelling. “I had no idea where you were!”

  I stepped back at his vehemence. “I’m sorry. I went for a walk, and Mary picked me up. We were talking and enjoying each other’s company, and she invited me to dinner. I-I never thought… I mean, it didn’t occur to me you would even…” I trailed off.

  “You were worried?” I asked. “Really?”

  He sighed, his voice losing some of its edge. “Of course I was worried. I’ve been searching for you all over the fields. I called Mary and she never answered, so I drove over to ask if she’d seen you.” He tugged on his hair again, the anger returning. “And there you were, laughing, eating, and having fun. Not the remotest bit concerned about anything else. Not the fact that I might have wondered where you were or been looking for you!”

  “Why would I think that? I had no clue you’d even notice I was gone!” I responded, throwing up my hands.

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it,” he snarled. “You. Have. No. Fucking. Clue.”

  And then he was kissing me. He yanked me tight to his chest, and I flung my arms around his neck. He growled low and deep in his chest, lifting me into his arms, his lips never leaving mine. He carried me up the stairs, tossing me on the bed.

  “Let’s get something straight,” he hissed, pulling off his shirt. “You tell me before you leave this property again, you understand?”

  I whimpered at the sight of his muscled torso.

  “I don’t want you chatting to the male customers. You leave them to me.” He kicked off his shitkickers and dragged his jeans down his legs. “I make the prices, you got that? I have the final decision on everything.”

  I clutched the sheets, nodding, feeling frantic.

  He gripped my jeans, tearing them down my legs. “Do you have contacts?”

  “Yes,” I panted, desperate to feel his hands on me.

  “You need to wear them.”

  At this point, I would agree to anything.

  He gripped the bottom of my blouse. “Sorry.”

  Before I could ask why, he tore it. Right up the middle.

  I gasped as the cool air hit my skin.

  “You need to wear heavier shirts,” he demanded, placing a knee on the mattress and glaring at me. “Maybe turtlenecks.”

  Then he was on me. Kissing, licking, biting. His mouth and hands were everywhere. He tugged my bra down, my breasts spilling over the cups. He sucked and licked them, holding them in his big hands, pinching the nipples and making me cry out. He ground his massive cock into my center, the cloth separating us only adding another layer of sensation.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he promised darkly. “Rough and hard. You prepared for that, Red?”

  I pulled his mouth down to mine, devouring him. He tasted like sin—citrus and sweet and him. He fisted my hair, tugging it in his hands, our mouths locked together.

  “Take me,” I pleaded.

  He grabbed a condom, and then he was ready. There was no hesitancy tonight. No more foreplay. One snap of his hips and he was lodged deep inside me. I barely had time to catch my breath, and he started to move. Fast, forceful thrusts, hitting me exactly where I needed him. He gripped my hips, almost furious in his need as he took me. Sweat dotted his forehead, his arms shaking with repressed energy as he drove forward, pistoning in and out, cursing and groaning.

  There was no doubt what this was.

  Pure, unadulterated fucking.

  I should have objected, except he felt too good. His cock felt too good. All too soon, my orgasm soared out of control, and I cried out, spasming and coming around him. He gritted his teeth, his hold tightening.

  “One more, Red. You’re gonna give me one more.”

  He lifted my leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, still thrusting in long, hard movements. I gasped as he dragged his cock against my clit, the sensation spiraling me into another orgasm. I grasped at his arms, and he threw back his head, shouting and cursing as he came. He was powerful and sexy in his release, his corded neck muscles standing out, his shoulders straining.

  Then he collapsed on me, his weight pushing me down into the mattress. For a moment, there was nothing but our heavy breathing.

  He moved, getting rid of the condom, then returning to the bed. For a moment, he stared, then tugged on my arms. “Let’s get this off of you.” He tenderly pulled away the torn material and removed my bra, laying me back on the pillows. He climbed in beside me, tucking me into his arms. His aggression was gone, and the man I had spent the night with on Friday was back. For how long, I didn’t know, but I decided to enjoy it while I could.

  I lifted my head and he kissed me. Soft, sweet, his lips lingered on mine, his arms a warm, safe spot to be in.

  I sighed as he tugged me back to his chest, resting his chin on my head.

  The room was silent.

  “Tell me a secret,” he whispered, surprising me.

  “You ripped my favorite blouse.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  It was my turn. “Tell me one.”

 
He played with my hair, twirling a piece around between his fingers. “You make the best lemon pie I’ve ever tasted.”

  “That’s hardly a secret.”

  He tipped up my chin and brushed a kiss to my mouth.

  “Neither was yours.”

  I chuckled. “Can I ask a question?”

  “I think you just did.”

  “No, um—Maxx. Two x’s. That’s unusual. Is it a family name?”

  It was his turn to chuckle. “No. It was an error. My mom wanted Maxwell, my dad liked Max. He crossed out the ‘well’ at the end, and the person read it as M-A-X-X, and that was how it was recorded. My mom decided she liked it—it was different, so she left it. My dad never lived it down. I kinda like it too.”

  I pressed a kiss to his scruff. “It suits you. You’re so sexy, you need two x’s—like a warning label.”

  He groaned at my quip. “Now you got a second secret. My turn.”

  I snuggled back to his chest. “I like it here. It’s peaceful and pretty.”

  He didn’t say anything, maybe surprised by my words. His arms tightened a little, then he spoke.

  “I hated the feeling I had when I couldn’t find you.”

  I felt a small thrill at his words, but I didn’t react.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll call next time.”

  “I’ll know you’re at Mary’s gossiping.”

  “We weren’t gossiping. We were playing cards and talking.”

  “Was I mentioned in the conversation?” he asked dryly.

  I remained silent.

  “Gossiping,” he stated smugly. Then his voice took on a warning tone. “I don’t like to be talked about, Red. I value my privacy.”

  I blew out an indignant sigh. “What an ego you have. Not everything is about you. We had lots of other things to talk about, you know.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Mary knows you, and she knows you’re private. You were barely mentioned.” I warmed to my annoyance. “And what was that shit about my glasses and wearing contacts? I need them for reading. And I don’t own a turtleneck. Besides, it’s summer, and I would perish in the heat.”

  A long deep snore was his response. I tilted back my head, looking at him.

  He was asleep. He fucked me like a champion, then passed out.

  With a huff, I slipped from the covers, pulled on my jeans, and yanked on his shirt he’d taken off earlier.

  As far as I was concerned, he could wear mine.

  I held my head high all the way back to my little room.

  Chapter 12

  CHARLY

  Maxx didn’t come into the office the next morning. He showed up early and went straight to work on an old Toyota Camry that was in the shop. It was in great shape, the original bodywork still in place, no rust that I could see. It was a creamy white and, obviously, well maintained.

  I was certain he regretted last night. I had zero regrets, except knowing it would probably make him more distant and grumpier. Plus, I had no doubt he would inform me today it wasn’t happening again. Or he would pretend it never happened.

  I could do the same thing, except for the slight ache in my lower back and the fact that I was a little tender in spots.

  Being ridden hard would do that to a girl. Maybe I would ask him today if I could soak in the tub. I poured him a cup of coffee and carried it out front and leaned against the bumper.

  “Morning, boss.”

  All I got was a low grunt from under the hood.

  “I brought you coffee.”

  “Fine,” was the muffled response.

  I admired his ass before I spoke. “Nice car.”

  I saw his back flex as he exhaled in resignation, realizing I was going to keep talking. He lifted his head. “Yes. A nice old Camry.”

  “Ninety-two?” I guessed. “That was sort of the breakout year.”

  His gaze was filled with annoyance. “Yes. And it will be ninety-two more years before I get this done if you don’t shut up. Don’t you have work to do?”

  “Yep. Lots of it. I need some reports pulled to do it, though, and you’re avoiding me.”

  He brought himself to his full height, towering over me. “I am not avoiding you.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Is that my shirt?”

  “Oh.” I fingered the collar. “Yes. Mine seems to be missing.” I batted my eyelashes, trying to look innocent. “Have you seen it?”

  I expected a snarl. A biting comeback. What I didn’t expect was the open expression on his face. Or his sudden shout of laughter. Even more surprising was the way he moved, caging me between his arms against the car. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. It looks far better on my bedroom floor.” He leaned in and nipped my neck. “The password is ThomasR1950. Get your own damn reports. I’m busy.”

  Then he got back to work. I blinked. Looked around the garage expecting a camera crew and someone yelling “Punked!” to jump out.

  “Um,” I stammered. “That will give me access to everything.”

  He turned his head and threw me a wink. “I’m aware. I’m watching you. Remember that.”

  I stumbled away, heading toward the office. Maxx stood, reaching for his coffee. “Do up a couple of buttons, Charly. Have mercy on my customers.” He shook his head. “And me,” he mumbled.

  I didn’t respond. I sat down heavily on the chair in the office and, without thinking, buttoned up. I signed in to the bank and tried the password. I was shocked when it worked, but then quickly pulled the reports I needed, printed off some statements, and signed off.

  Maxx was talking to a couple of guys in the garage, listening to what they had to say. I watched him, suspicion creeping in.

  What was he up to?

  MAXX

  I somehow wasn’t surprised when I woke up in the morning and found Red gone. She never seemed to be in the same place I left her in. I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, feeling rested and surprisingly calm. I shouldn’t be. I had done it again. Slept with Charlynn—Charly—Red—whatever her name was. I swore it wouldn’t happen, but it had.

  The night before, I had assumed she was in her room as I ate the delicious macaroni and cheese she’d left in the oven. I had another large piece of pie, then feeling guilty that my actions must have made her upset, I took a plate of food to her. But she wasn’t there. I checked the house again, then walked the property, but there was no sign of her. After seeing her bag and laptop under the table in the dining room, my panic grew.

  Where the hell could she go? It was getting dark, and she didn’t know the area that well. I hopped in the truck and drove into town but didn’t spot her. I called Mary in case she’d seen her, but there was no answer, and finally, I drove along the road slowly, looking in the vast fields and trees to see if I could spot Charly. Spying a light at Mary’s, I pulled in the driveway, the relief at seeing Charly on Mary’s porch morphing into anger as I realized she must have been here the whole time. Laughing, eating, talking, while I worried and panicked over her.

  Once we were back at the house, my anger morphed into another feeling entirely. The intense heat and passion that sizzled between Red and me exploded, and before I knew it, we were upstairs. I remembered snarling a bunch of things at her, which only seemed to ramp up the heat between us. I was rough with her—far rougher than I should have been, but she was right there with me, orgasming twice, screaming my name. My own orgasm had been powerful, my body locking down as the ecstasy spiked and the aftershocks rippled through me. I had never experienced the sensations Red brought out in me. It was mystifying.

  I slid from the bed, spying the torn blouse lying on the floor. I picked it up, holding it to my nose, inhaling the fragrance left behind on the material. My already hard cock lengthened further. I shook my head in frustration. Just her scent made me hard. How the hell was I supposed to get through working with her every day? Seeing her in the kitchen at night? This situation was never going to work unless we somehow stopped the physical draw between us—now.

 
We struck sparks off each other. Our goading exchanges seemed to ignite the desire between us. Something about her made me growl and snipe at her—as if I was somehow punishing her for the attraction I felt. She never backed down, answering my comments with sassy, smart-mouthed retorts that infuriated and taunted, yet turned me on with her attitude.

  Once we started, it was as if someone struck a match and lit the flame. The only thing that calmed the inferno was sex. Until the next conversation.

  I stared in the mirror, thinking. Maybe that was the key. Change the conversation. Red seemed to like the grumbly side of me, as she called it. Perhaps if I was just a nice guy, she wouldn’t be as interested, which meant she wouldn’t argue back. Without an argument, no passion. We could simply be what I wanted. She could be an employee; I would be her boss.

  It could work.

  The look on her face as I teased her was perfect. She didn’t expect it. She looked shocked—so shocked, in fact, she could barely talk.

  There was no argument. No argument meant no passion. No passion meant no sex.

  My logic was sound. This was going to work. Her expression when I gave her the banking information was disbelief. I didn’t bother to tell her I had reread her resume and finally contacted her old boss, Peter Phelps, who informed me that Charlynn was one of the most honest people he knew and would vouch for her anytime. He also informed me she was the hardest working assistant he’d ever had and had been sorry when the company they worked for went under.

  “I’d hire her again if I’d hadn’t decided to retire. Tell her hello if you hire her,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”

  I didn’t bother to tell him I already had, and I wasn’t so sure on the regret part. Yet. I was pretty damn certain I saw a different side of her than he ever had. At least, I hoped I did.

  The morning was busy, and Charly was in and out, and despite what I’d told her last night, she dealt with the customers, taking care of their payments. I tamped down my annoyance at the slightly befuddled expressions many of them wore as they left the office. She seemed to charm them all, which put me a little on edge.