Maximum Rush (Tangled Desires Book 4)

by Murphy,Misti

  Finally, I spot her coming out of the hotel. She’s alone, and I eat up the distance between us. The relief at not having lost her yet is almost a palpable sensation flowing in my veins. I should probably apologize for being an asshole, but the fact that I consider doing so has me clenching my jaw. I may be struggling with this need to hold onto her, but she needs to know where she stands. And that’s not with me. I won’t hurt her because she gets me all muddled up. I won’t be that person who lets her fall for something that can’t happen. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over.”

  “I’ve been right here the entire time.” She keeps her face emotionless, or she tries to. It doesn’t quite work when her gaze is shiny and avoiding mine. “Well not here. Standing right in front of the door would be stupid. I meant I was inside with Chels and Mia. And I had to make a few phone calls. Eliza wanted to set up a meeting with marketing.”

  And I want to kiss her. I want to wrap my arms around her waist and suck on the skin right below her ear. I want to forget what the hell I was thinking about just now, before she was so close I can smell her scent and feel the warmth sizzling off her skin. We have one week, and I don’t want to waste a moment of it. Does she sense that? Does she see how I look at her? That she’s making me wonder what it would be like to have her around longer than we both intended?

  Fuck, I hope not.

  Gripping her arm, I turn her around and march her back into the hotel, through the foyer and up to the check in desk. “Can I book a room?”

  “What are you doing?” She tries to shake me off, but I’m not able to physically relinquish my hold, because all I can think about is that soon I won’t get to touch her again.

  “We’re almost fully booked. We have the one-bedroom penthouse suite available.”

  “Great.” I toss my credit card on the counter. “We’ll take it.”

  “Rush?” She’s staring at me like I’ve grown an extra head in the last five seconds.

  “We need to have a little chat.”

  “We can talk here. Or we can walk home. Hotel rooms aren’t usually for talking, they’re for—”

  “We’re going to do that too.” I take the swipe card the attendant holds out.

  “I don’t think so.” She squares off, one arm going around her waist since I have the other still trapped in my hand. “We’re not even friends, remember?”

  “When did I say that?” I pull her to the elevator, getting her inside and punching the button that closes the doors.

  “You called me Max instead of Maxi, and introduced me as a journalist. Not your friend. Not your girl. Not your anything, but a complete stranger.”

  Christ. I can barely think straight. All I hear is she’s pissed because I didn’t call her my girl. Am I too late to stop this thing from causing her pain when we go our separate ways? I don’t care how I feel about it, but she’s already gone through enough without me adding to it. Pushing her up against the wall, I imprison both her hands in one of mine. “Do you want to be my girl? Do you imagine you have feelings for me, little nun? Is that why you’re so cut up about how I introduced you to another woman?”

  “Of course not.” Her eyes widen. “Are you crazy?”

  “We went into this with you promising me I’d be the last guy you could ever fall for.” I cover her body with mine, resting my cheek against hers. This next bit might sting a little more than I was expecting if the way my chest tightens so much I can’t breathe is any indication. “I want to know if that still holds true.”

  “I could never think of you like that.” Her words pepper me like bullets.

  Not that I know what getting shot feels like, but it’s how I imagine it would feel. A pain I might need to ask Tommy about at some point, since he would know after Mace shot him last time I was in Reverence. It had been an accident, during a high-stress situation. It wasn’t like Mace aimed at him, but I assume it wouldn’t matter how one got shot, the pain would be the same. And I imagine it would feel something like I do right now, because it fucking stings. Also there’s a sort of numbness that comes with it, like maybe my chest isn’t actually there anymore, blown apart by the bullets of her words ripping through it.

  Which is good. Right? It’s what I wanted. To know I’m in this alone, and it’s not going to make her sad to leave me.

  Because I can’t spread myself around like I’d need to do if I wanted her around more permanently. I couldn’t be on the road for months on end while she sat at home waiting for me, wondering if I could handle the temptation of my adoring fans. Funnily enough, that’s not even a question to me. Having her would make it easy to ignore anyone else. And then there’s Sarah as well. I could never be what they truly needed as long as my career comes first.

  Straightening, I catch her jaw with my hand. There’s this thing she does when she’s lying, a tell. “Tell me again.”

  I wait for that smile. The one that will communicate to me that she’s telling me what I want to hear. I might even chant smile over and over again, hoping for something I really shouldn’t want.

  But it doesn’t come.

  Instead she shifts off the wall. “I could never love a man like you. Never want more than fun. You’re not at all right for me, and I know that as well as you do.”

  “Good.” I turn my back to her as the doors slide open. I need a moment to brush the disappointment off.

  Sometimes getting whatever I want sucks.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Maxi

  Staring at Rush’s back as the elevator doors open, I’m in shock. I can’t believe it. That’s probably the first time I’ve ever lied point blank to someone’s face and not had my expression give me away. But how can I smile when he’s interrogating me as to whether I think this thing between us is more? When he’s reminding me how stupid I am for wanting that.

  Can he tell? Are my emotions written all over my face? I glance at the shiny inner walls of the elevator. I can totally imagine how my face gives me away.

  Oh God, I lean closer. How the hell did that get there? I brush my hair away from my face. In Love. Shit. Is that permanent marker? I start rubbing at my forehead but the thick ink doesn’t budge. It doesn’t even smear. Holy crap. It’s worse than a scarlet letter. At least that I could have ripped off my clothing. And why are there pink and red paper hearts hanging from my sleeves? I tear one off as I glance at his back. What if he sees? Desperately working on snatching up all of them, I crumple them in my hands. No wonder he’s asking me if I have feelings for him. Great, and now there’s heart shaped silver and pink confetti falling from the roof. Where is it even coming from?

  “That’s a lot of hearts, Maxi. I knew you were lying.”

  “Are you coming or not, little nun?” Rush stares at me while holding the doors open.

  I glance about me feverishly. Nope, no hearts, no signs that I fibbed about how I felt about the man. Maybe he thought he was confusing me when he told me I was special to him. And he was, although not because I think anything can come from it. It’s because I have no idea how I let this happen. “Maybe we should go back to the party?”

  “You go if you want. I need a few minutes away from those hyped up sugar fiends. It’s reminiscent of a crack house made by the witch from Hansel and Gretel out there. Freaking junkies.” He glances back over his shoulder, not really looking at me.

  Tight jawed, his wide shoulders drawn together, he appears weary. It’s unusual for the man who always seems to have boundless energy, and it doesn’t matter that I told him I didn’t care, because I do. Taking a deep breath, I swipe my clammy palms down the sides of my dress and step out of the elevator. If he needs this time and he wants me with him, I’ll be there. I just hope I don’t give myself away. “Which way?”

  His hand envelopes mine, the other landing on my shoulder as he ushers me toward a door. It’s always the same with him. The way he touches me sears my skin and has my pulse racing. Knowing he wants me, that he’ll be inside me, makes my panties wet and
my sex clench.

  It also makes me nauseous. My stomach is all aflutter over how much I want more than what he offers, and whether he will be able to see it in my eyes when he’s holding me close, naked, without anything between us to hide behind.

  Swiping the key card through the lock, he holds the door open for me to step into the suite. It’s a large open space with a wall of glass through which the sun bathes everything in sunshine. Mahogany and dark leather furniture are spread out in perfect position to make the most of the room’s design. A piano is on display on a small platform to the side of the living area. I never understood the piano thing. Used as expensive décor in a place like this, when most guests surely wouldn’t know how to play more than chopsticks on it.

  At the end of the long space a door stands open, and I’m betting behind it is a king size bed. “Bedroom?”

  Grasping my waist, he lifts me up but doesn’t march toward the bedroom like I thought he would. “Perhaps in a little while.”

  Instead he kisses me. Soft, and slow, and hungry. I melt into him, pretending a little that this is more than a kiss. Twining my fingers in his hair, I whimper into his mouth. My chest swells and aches all at the same time while he carries me across the room before coming to his knees on the plush white rug in the center. He lays me out in front of him, crawling over me to nibble at my lips.

  There are no words exchanged, no flirtatious grin on his face. It’s all been replaced by something far deeper. A palpable sensation that comes from the heat between us, a seriousness to his gaze I’ve not noticed before.

  Slipping back down my body, he grips my dress and pushes it up over my hips. His mouth skims my belly, and my muscles quiver as he slowly moves his fingers to and fro over my panties. Pleasure skitters along my nerve endings, filling me with desire. I savor every moment, every stroke as though this will be the last time.

  “I always get what I want, don’t I?” His voice is a solemn rasp over my skin as he hooks a finger in my panties and tugs them down from my hips. “Whatever I want, however I want it. If I want it so much I can barely breathe to not have it, I find a way, don’t I?”

  He got me despite my best intentions. Somehow, he got what he wanted and I’m the one left wanting to the point of not being able to handle the idea of not having him in my life.

  “Always.” I gasp as his finger touches my clit, unhurriedly circling the little nub before moving down my slit to dip into my entrance. I rock to him, pushing myself onto his finger, feeling him stroke deep into me.

  “Yes. It seems so.”

  Does he sound bitter about that fact? Dwelling on it is impossible when his mouth covers my clit, his tongue flicking gently over me as he continues to stroke me. I arch underneath him with a whimper as the pleasure he stirs up in me becomes raw need. “Rush, I want you.”

  It comes out in an urgent garble. I want him, not just moving inside me, but I want him to feel the way I do about him. I need him to want me long after these two months are up, even though I know it could never work. It’s a pitiful cry that falls from my lips, and I pray he doesn’t understand.

  “Fuck, little nun. I want you too.”

  His lips kiss my clit, suck on it as I give in to the welling sensation, and the warmth that spreads in my chest while I make believe he means it the same way I do. Just for a moment. Only while I orgasm on his finger and his tongue. Long enough to pant from the pleasure that racks me as he draws out my release.

  Then he’s stripping out of his clothes and settling over me. His lips seek mine while he pushes into me. One hand grasps my knee while the other captures both of mine above my head. His limber body stretched taut over mine as he strokes deep inside me. And the look on his face, the darkness of the violet of his eyes, the size of his pupils under thick lashes is heartbreaking. His jaw is so tight, his hand gripping mine painfully as though he might never let go. There is so much intensity in him, so much control, filled with fierce desperation. I’ve never, not ever, been looked at like that. I’m not sure anyone has. No one’s ever seen the face of a god, but I can’t help but feel I’m looking at one.

  There’s so much pleasure in the way he takes me, but there’s pain, too. An ache in my chest that stings my eyes, as I know we are coming to an end. This may not be the last time he fucks me, but this doesn’t feel like fucking. It feels like love and goodbyes.

  I feel like I’m choking, trying to fight my own tongue and the words that it wants to whisper while our bodies move together, our skin clammy with sweat. He grunts, thrusting into me, hard, and tender, and measured. Every stroke is concentrated perfection until I crave release, my mind blocking out everything but him and the way he moves inside me.

  Every fiber in my body comes alive with the aching need to explode around him. My vision blurs as it licks through me, pushing me to the edge and shattering me. His sharp hissing intake of breath in my ear is followed by the quick rigidity that courses through his muscles, then my core floods with heat as he pumps his hips, one, two, three times before collapsing on top of me.

  He’s careful with his weight as he scrapes my hair away from my face. And all I can do is stare at him, holding onto his hips as though to keep him inside me means neither of us is going anywhere.

  Yeah, right.

  We have less than six days.

  And I couldn’t stay if I wanted to. My life isn’t here. It’s in Sydney with Sarah. So what if my heart feels somewhat torn apart because I don’t want to say goodbye? The rest of my life is a mess, too. It’s going to be a while before I can get over this trip of a lifetime.

  “Are you going to miss this, Maxi?” Rush asks, rolling onto the rug beside me.

  I feel the loss of his heat, the loss of him keenly as soon as he moves away. Hugging myself, I try to ignore my mixed emotions. If I lie now he’ll be able to tell. I’m sure of it. “Yeah. I think I might.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Rush

  We’re standing in front of the church where in a few minutes Tommy and Gem are going to tie themselves together for the rest of their lives. I’ve been counting down to this day, the last wedding I plan to go to for a very long time. But in the past few days it’s meant counting down the hours I have left with Maxi, instead.

  I can barely deal with her being away from me, knowing how precious little time we have left. I never planned on being this man. The one who curls up with the same girl at the end of the day, the one who hangs onto her every word, and whose heart warms whenever she looks at him.

  Like she is right now. So fucking beautiful in an ankle length navy strapless dress, her hair cascading in those sexy curls that had me wanting to feel them on my skin from the moment I met her. It’s all teamed with a pair of strappy heels I want wrapped around my hips as soon as possibly convenient.

  I straighten my tie as Mace comes up beside me, looking slick in his own suit. He will never look completely comfortable dressed up, though. I have that over him.

  “Well this is the last one for a while.” Glancing behind us at the open doors, he smirks. “Until yours at any rate.”

  I raise both eyebrows. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. You might die, since that’s about as likely as you forgetting how to say fuck.”

  “Watch your mouth, brother.” He chuckles. “We’re standing in front of a church.”

  I shrug. He’s probably right.

  “So when does your girl leave?” He stares pointedly at Maxi.

  “She’s…she’s not... my girl.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “You fucking asshole.”

  But Maxi is close enough to hear us talking, even if she’s pretending she isn’t listening. I catch her wince. The idea of being my anything is repugnant to her. It’s the last thing in the world she’d want.

  It’s good that I somehow found the words to say she wasn’t, though I almost slipped and said she was, or that I wish she was, or that if she’d have me I’d want her to be. Even though it couldn’t work. She’s going home, and my life will be he
ctic for the next five weeks. And after that? There’ll be more tours and shows, and she’ll be with Sarah. Plus she lives on the other side of the world, and I here. I guess I live in Reverence now. Because this is the place that will remind me of her the most. It’ll be where I want to go when I’m not travelling, where she was with me.

  “When are you going to stop denying it?” Mace drags me out of my head. “We all see the way you look at each other. Could see it from the first time you introduced her. Damn, you’re slow if you don’t realize it already, or is your head still planted in your over inflated ass?”

  “It’s ego.” I growl. “Over inflated ego. No one wants a swollen ass.” And sure, I have it in spades. Why wouldn’t I? People love what I do, and it’s the best feeling in the world. Except when Maxi’s with me it might make my success the second best feeling in the world.

  “Whatever.” He thumps his shoulder against mine. “Work it out before she leaves. Or you are going to be one sad, decrepit old man.”

  “Go find your wife. Tell her you’re being a pain in my ass.” I march down the couple steps to where Maxi wandered off as soon as she heard what Mace was saying. I don’t have any idea what to say to her. Getting what I want is never this difficult or nerve wracking. “Sorry about Mace. He can be a real tool.”

  “It’s okay.” She peers up at me through her thick lashes. “This thing between us is almost over and then neither of us are going to have to deal with questions about whether I’m your girl or not again.”

  “That’ll be a relief, won’t it?” She’s pretty clear that she’ll be glad to see the back of me despite the fun we’ve had together. I can’t blame her for being happy to go home, but the rejection still stings.