Rescued by the Bad Boy (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 4)

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Rescued by the Bad Boy (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 4) Page 4

by Sylvia Pierce


  I don’t think so, Haley Marie. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, effectively cock-blocking her. She sighed in frustration, then removed her hand, returning to her dinner. From the corner of his eye, Max caught her fidgeting in her chair, probably just as bored of the conversation as he was.

  Few more hours, then we’re alone in my cottage…

  He felt her touch on his knee again, her hand attempting to make the same journey into his lap. But when he grabbed her this time, he felt something else in her grasp. Silky, warm, and slightly damp.

  Holy shit.

  He glanced briefly at his lap, confirming his suspicions.

  Without missing a beat, he lifted the soft fabric to his face and blotted his mouth, inhaling deeply.

  Haley gasped, but no one else seemed to notice that he’d just used her fucking panties as a napkin.

  He tucked the panties into the pocket of his suit jacket, and leaned over to whisper in her ear again. “Surrender now, Haley Marie. You can’t beat me at this game.”

  When he pulled back, she gave him a look that said, we’ll see about that.

  It only made him more determined.

  “Diverting water through the pipeline is unsustainable.” The cousin was talking through a mouthful of chicken, clueless about the battle of the sexes unfolding before his eyes.

  “Not only is it unsustainable,” Max said, feigning interest, “it’s dangerous. Those pipes were old fifty years ago. Infrastructure upgrades are a huge challenge.” Keeping his eyes locked on the man across from him, Max slid his fingers over the top of Haley’s thigh, slowly pulling her dress up to expose her bare flesh. She clamped her legs shut, but there was no way she’d be able to resist for long.

  Slowly, teasingly, he trailed his fingers over her smooth skin, inching his way between her thighs, the edge of his hand brushing closer to her heat.

  Haley finally relaxed, her thighs parting just enough to let him in.

  Sweet victory.

  His fingers dove in immediately, stroking her clit with slow, teasing circles, slipping over the tight nub as he brought her closer to the edge. Her skin was so soft, so warm… fuck, everything about her made him so damn hard. Her panties were burning a red-hot hole in his pocket, her flesh heating at his touch. He ached to fuck her, to bury himself to the hilt and forget everything but that hot, wet pussy.

  He almost came just thinking about it again.

  He hadn’t actually stopped thinking about it—her, naked, writhing beneath him, screaming his name—ever since that crazy kiss at the party last night. For twenty-four hours he’d been walking around with a hard-on with Haley’s name on it. The closer they got with these little games, the harder it was getting for Max to restrain himself. A few more minutes of touching her, hearing her soft sighs… Max was this close to throwing her down on the table, hiking up that little black dress, and taking her right there. Fuck decorum.

  As if she could sense the direction of his filthy thoughts, Haley tensed beneath his touch, her thighs clamping harder around his hand, her hips arching up off the chair. She covered her mouth with her hand and made a sound that only he could hear, a soft moan, a gasp of pure pleasure. She was so fucking close. Max shifted closer and slid his middle finger inside her, pressing his palm against her clit, stroking her hard and fast, his other hand resting casually around his water glass.

  He wondered if she could pull it off—come undone right here, thoroughly fucked by his insistent fingers—without anyone suspecting.

  Haley tensed again, leaning forward, her head down.

  That’s it, baby. Let go…

  Max thrust another finger inside her, hard and deep, and she fucking shattered, her hands clamped down on the table edge, body twitching as she rode out the orgasm.

  Her thighs trembled, her chest heaved with the effort of holding back, but no one but Max knew what had just gone on under the table. His fingers were slick, and when she finally sat up straight again, it took everything in him not to pull them up to his mouth and taste her, like he’d been dying to do all fucking night…

  “Haley?”

  It took a second for Max to realize that her cousin had finally stopped yammering on about the pipeline. Instead, he was staring intently at Haley, brow furrowed in concern.

  “You all right?” he asked. “You seem a little… flushed.”

  “Just… I need… um… water.” Haley grabbed her glass and brought it to her lips, her eyes shut tight, her throat bobbing as she chugged the water.

  “He’s right,” Max teased, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. “You do look a little flushed. The chicken wasn’t that spicy to me. Guess you can’t handle the heat.”

  She shot him a warning glare, but that fucking smile said it all.

  I surrender, Max Killian.

  Haley held up her empty glass. ”Will you go get me another drink?”

  “More water?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Gin and tonic. Make it a double.”

  Chapter Six

  Max was leaning against the bar, waiting for Haley’s gin and tonic, a Jameson for her cousin, and the Coke he’d ordered for himself, thinking that this whole fake boyfriend thing had a lot of fringe benefits, when he felt the ominous tap on his shoulder.

  He knew immediately who it was. Only a douchebag would go for the shoulder tap instead of just walking up to him like a man, looking him in the fucking eye.

  Max let out a long, slow breath, then turned around. The only thing keeping him from pummeling this asswipe was Haley; Max’d just been introduced that afternoon as her boyfriend, and he didn’t want to make a scene in front of the whole family.

  “Brian,” he said coolly. “Need a drink?”

  “Don’t play that tough guy bullshit with me, bro.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. Max wasn’t in the mood for another pissing contest with this asshole—not when his girl was waiting for him at the table, still coming down from the stealth orgasm he’d just administered—but the dude was leaving him no choice.

  “Listen,” Max said, forcing himself to stay calm. “I don’t know what your beef is with me, but Haley’s made it pretty clear where things stand with the two of you.”

  Brian looked at Max as if he were speaking fucking ancient Sumerian.

  “She made her choice,” Max tried again, speaking slowly this time. Keeping an eye on Brian—the guy seemed like the type to play dirty—he set a twenty on the bar and collected his drinks. “Gotta respect that, man.”

  Brian took a step closer, poking his finger close to Max’s chest. He wasn’t actually touching him, which was lucky for him. The second he made contact, Max would lay his ass out, no questions asked.

  “You may have her fooled,” Brian said, smug as fuck. “But I know exactly who you are.”

  “That a fact?” Max raised an eyebrow. This oughta be good.

  “You’re that lifeguard.”

  Max’s blood ran cold. “That lifeguard” could’ve meant a hundred things, but Max could tell by the sneer on his face and the way he’d pronounced it—like he was saying “you’re that dog shit I just stepped in”—that he was only talking about one thing.

  The one thing that had divided Max’s entire life into two completely different halves: before, and after.

  Of course it had been in the papers. The news vans were down here for a week after, interviewing anyone who’d give them the time of day, chasing Max with their cameras and incessant, unanswerable questions.

  He’d just been hoping Haley’s family was out of the loop. After all, Haley didn’t seem to recognize him, and her Aunt Bev didn’t either—she wasn’t the type to hold back juicy gossip.

  Now, Max had two choices. He could drag this asshole outside and kick his ass. Or he could let the bastard spout off his nonsense, get bored, and move on, which was the smart and polite thing to do.

  Yeah, fuck that.

  Max set down the drinks and reached for the guy’s shoulder, intending to grab him and s
hove his ass outside so they could deal with this shit as men.

  But Haley—sweet, beautiful, freckle-faced Haley—stepped right between them, wrapping her hands around Max’s forearm.

  “Not worth it,” she said to Max, her green eyes pleading. Her touch diffused him instantly. In a low voice meant only for him, she said, “Besides, if anyone gets to hit him, it’s me.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Max asked. Unlike Haley, he didn’t give a fuck if Brian heard.

  “Monday,” Haley said.

  “Why not now?”

  “And risk messing up my sister’s precious wedding pictures? No thanks.” Haley laughed, but it was nervous and high. The tightness was a harsh reminder of the situation: they were here at a restaurant, in public, with her entire family. It was her sister’s rehearsal dinner. And Max wasn’t really her boyfriend, wasn’t really charged with defending her honor. He had no claim on her. He was just a convenient stunt-double, passing the time until they could head back to his bedroom and fuck each other brainless.

  He’d lost sight of that, and he’d let this fuckface get under his skin.

  Brian tried to talk to Haley again, but before he’d even finished saying her name, she had her hand up to silence him. She hadn’t even turned to face him. Her eyes never left Max’s.

  No sooner had Brian slithered away, Caroline—Haley’s mother—popped up in his place. She had the kind of big, curly hair that was popular in the 80s, making her appear taller than she really was. Haley had her eyes, but that’s where the similarities ended.

  “Haley. What on earth is going on, sugar?” Her mother narrowed her eyes at Max, the accusation obvious. “What happened with Brian?”

  “Mom.” She laced her fingers through Max’s and leaned her head on his arm. “This is Max, my boyfriend. Remember?”

  Caroline forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. The woman seemed exasperated, but Max couldn’t imagine why. “This is your sister’s big weekend, and you’re stirring up the hornet’s nest.”

  Haley was staring at the ground. “I know.”

  “Brian’s really worried about you.”

  Haley nodded.

  “Can we just… can we all try to get along,” Caroline said, “for Anna’s sake?”

  Haley took a deep breath, and Max waited for her to unload, to tell her mother to take a hike. But all the fire in her fizzled out. Shoulders slumping, she nodded, apologizing, and promising her mother she’d make an effort to smooth things over.

  Caroline kissed her daughter’s cheek, picked up the gin and tonic that was supposed to be for Haley, and walked off.

  Haley let out a frustrated breath. She looked like a dejected teenager, embarrassed after a parental scolding. It made his fucking heart hurt.

  Max didn’t get it. Haley wasn’t some wilting flower—not with him. But when it came to her family, she backed down every time.

  “Haley.” He touched her chin, turning her face up so she’d meet his eyes. He wanted to tell her to take a stand, to set things straight with the whole family. But when he opened his mouth, his own doubts crept in.

  You can’t even deal with your own shit. Who the fuck are you to tell her how to live her life?

  And the most obvious, glaring thing that he kept, for some dumbass reason, forgetting: You’re not her fucking boyfriend, asshole.

  So when she finally looked at him, her eyes full of vulnerable hope, Max took the easy way out. Nodding toward the bar, he said, “You still want that drink?”

  Chapter Seven

  “And it’s like, how many times do I have to tell her? I’m not with him anymore. God.” Haley finished off her second drink at the bar—third for the evening—and slumped on the stool. She felt like an idiot, crying on Max’s shoulder like this, but between the Brian drama and disappointing her mother, plus all the alcohol, she was feeling a little weepy. Not to mention wobbly. Weebly?

  God, you’re buzzed. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re doing it alone. He’s not even drinking.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Somebody cut me off before I do something really stupid.”

  Max flagged down the bartender and asked for some water, which Haley gulped down gratefully. She had a date tonight—in Max’s bed—and she wasn’t about to screw that up by passing out at seven o’clock.

  “Sorry,” she said again. “I just… See, this is why I don’t live in the same town as my mother. I love the woman, but get us in the same room, and I go insane. I don’t know why she can’t stop fixating on Brian. My sisters say Mom just wants me to be happy.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “No, it’s just… I wasn’t happy. Not with Brian. Why can’t she get that through her big head? I think all that hairspray damaged her brain.”

  Max leaned an elbow against the bar, his other hand resting warmly on her bare knee. His touch—the very touch that had sent her to the stratosphere during dinner—was comforting now. Nothing more, nothing less.

  It made her heart ache for something she hadn’t even known she’d been missing.

  She shifted away from him, tucking her legs under the bar.

  “On the outside,” Max said, “your ex looks like the type that would make a woman happy. The secure type. Overconfident. Snappy dresser.”

  Haley laughed. Brian never went anywhere without a tie on—not even to the beach.

  “He’s got your whole family eating out of his hand,” Max said. “And your sister is about to marry his best friend. So, the chips are kinda stacked.”

  “I’m never going to be free of him.” Haley drew a heart in the condensation on her water glass, then erased it with her thumb. “Everyone thinks he’s this great guy, right? Like, a nice smile and a corporate job and a freaking stock portfolio… that’s what matters, right? That’s what’s important? That didn’t keep my parents together. Mom conveniently forgets about that.”

  “For a lot of people, that shit is important.”

  “Being with him was just…” Haley sighed. She didn’t know how to explain it. Especially not to her fake boyfriend, a guy who was only in this for one thing—the thing Haley herself wanted, too. But when she met his eyes, she found no judgment. Only that patient, compassionate, deep-blue gaze that made her want to confess every last secret, every fragile hope.

  A small voice inside her warned her to shut up, to stop being so vulnerable and personal with a guy she’d probably never see again after this weekend. But before she could stop herself, the words were out.

  “He made me feel small,” she said. “Everything he did was this big huge deal—his MBA, his promotions—but my accomplishments were just little hobbies in his eyes. Not serious or awesome or really challenging achievements that I worked my ass off to get. Just… cute. Everything I did was fucking cute. Sometimes a girl doesn’t want to be cute, Max. She wants to be fierce.” She grabbed Max’s thigh, suddenly desperate for an answer. “Do you think I’m cute?”

  “No.” Max tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think you’re fucking gorgeous. I think you’re fierce as fuck. And I think anyone who can’t see that is obviously a world class moron whose ass needs to be kicked.”

  “By you, I suppose?”

  Max cracked his knuckles and smirked. “Say the word, baby.”

  “And people say romance is dead.”

  “Pffft. People are obviously stupid.” Max signaled for the bartender again. To Haley, he said, “I need to ask you something. Your answer will determine the fate of our entire fake relationship.”

  “No pressure,” she said, but the humor had left his eyes, replaced with something intense and serious.

  Holy hell, what is he doing…

  “I know we’ve only been fake-seeing each other for about a day,” he said earnestly, “but in that time, I’ve really come to respect and like you, and I think you feel the same. I know this is a big commitment. But I think we’re ready for it.”

  Max took her hand in both of his, looking deep int
o her eyes.

  Panic rose in her throat, nearly choking her. “Um… what are you doing?”

  Max smiled. “Haley Marie Scott, will you—”

  “Stop!” Haley jumped off her stool so fast, she lost her footing and toppled forward, landing right in his arms.

  With a laugh that had the whole bar turning to investigate, he said, “Shit, girl. I just wanted to know if you’d split an order of mozzarella sticks with me.”

  Chapter Eight

  “That was a mean trick,” Haley said, righting herself on the stool again. It took a good five minutes to catch her breath.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault. How was I supposed to know you’d have a visceral reaction to bar food?”

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were serious.”

  “You know what they say about assumptions.”

  “Do you know what they say about guys who play practical jokes on women they want to sleep with?”

  Max gave her a look that melted her from the inside out. “Ready to surrender yet?”

  All night they’d been teasing each other, flirting, stealing touches and kisses whenever they could. Haley tried to tell herself it was just a game, just a little fun, a little sexiness. Okay, a lot of sexiness—and every touch was like a promise of what awaited them the moment they could sneak off alone—but it was quickly becoming so much more than that.

  So quickly it was giving her whiplash.

  Max had a deeply sensual, intense, animal side—she was only just beginning to see it. But he was also incredibly sweet. Despite the chilly reception her family had given him, he’d made an effort to talk to all of her cousins, to patiently answer her sisters’ questions about his work… he even managed to deal with Brian. Gracefully, for the most part.

  But beyond all that, he was so attentive to her. More than their flirtations, their games, the jokes, his incredible touch, Max listened to her. He let her talk, didn’t try to talk over her or speak for her. Didn’t assume he knew what she was going to say before she said it.

 

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