by Tina Saxon
“Maybe we should keep going,” I whisper to Max, knowing he saw the guy too. I turn to walk away, but Max wraps his arm around my waist, stopping me.
“Max, it’s good to see you,” a deep voice booms over the crowd.
My head jerks back around to see Max and the guy shaking hands. “It’s good to see you, too. It’s been too long. Brecken, this is Sydney.”
His knowing eyes jump from mine to Max’s with a questioning glance. “Now you know why you signed an NDA,” Max states. He nods in understanding. I wish I knew what was going on.
“Got it.” His gaze turns back to me. “Sydney, great meeting you.” He holds out his hand and I slip mine into his leather-gloved palm.
“Brecken runs a security team here in Albuquerque,” Max explains.
“You too. Is this your balloon?”
“Yes, ma’am. We all have our hobbies. Mine doesn’t come with a plane and a parachute though.”
Max chuckles with a shake of his head. “Breck, the invitation is always open.”
“I’ll take you up on that someday,” he says, walking backward. “Don’t go anywhere. We have to catch up.” The smile remains on his handsome yet rugged face as he returns to work.
Standing there with Max’s arms wrapped around me, we watch the blue and red balloon pop up. Brecken jumps into the wicker basket and yells at Max. “Ready?” My body tenses as Max pushes me toward the basket.
“Wait. What?” I say in shock. Max doesn’t give me time to think as he pushes me forward. “Max!” I try to dig my heels into the grass, but Max has a firm grip on my waist and he lifts me an inch off the ground.
“You didn’t tell her?” Brecken laughs.
I give up the fight because we’re causing a scene. Rather, I wait till we’re at the basket and turn around, slapping his chest. “Max Shaw,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”
His smile widens. “We’re going for a ride. I thought you’d be excited.”
“You haven’t given me time to feel anything but surprise, you dominant ass.” I pull in a deep breath, adjusting my clothes that went askew from being forced forward. His eyes stay planted on me as he shoves his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to gather my wits. My eyes dart from the balloon back to Max. “Are we really doing this?” My voice comes out an octave higher than I expected.
He nods, flashing me a lopsided grin. I shake my hands out, a thrill of frightened anticipation crawling up my spine. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I fist his henley. “If we drop out of that thing, you better land first to break my fall.”
The four guys holding the basket down all chuckle. Max pulls his hands out of his pockets and covers mine. “I promise I’ll land first.”
“Okay,” I say, swallowing the lump of nerves in my throat, looking up into the hollow balloon. I shake my head. Nope, don’t look up into the piece of cloth that could deflate or pop. A squeal escapes my lips as Max scoops me up and places me into the basket. I grab onto the side when Max lifts himself in. With his weight, the guys have to work extra hard to keep it still. “See, I knew there was a reason you shouldn’t have eaten the other half of my burrito.”
“You have a funny one there,” Brecken jests.
“Yep, she’s a real comedian.” He slaps me on the ass before sliding up behind me. “You don’t have to have an iron-clad grip there, Tink,” he says, peering at my white knuckles. “We haven’t even left the ground yet.”
“No, but we’re about to. It’s our turn.” Brecken pulls the cord that fires the burner.
“Oh, my gosh,” I shriek, jolting around, gripping Max’s shirt again as I dig my face into his chest. The buzz of cheers mixed in with the crew’s directions drown out the sound of my heart drumming in my ears. Max encases me with his arms and I focus on him.
“Are you scared?” he whispers into my ear.
I rock my head. “Nope, I’m just trying to become one with your shirt.” His chest vibrates against my head. “Yes, I’m scared, captain obvious.”
“Good. Because some of the best things in life are the ones you have to dig deep inside yourself to try.” My shoulders drop as I try to calm down. “Tink, you were born to fly.”
I pull back, humor flashing in my eyes. “That is not in the literal sense, Max. If I fall, I won’t spread my wings and fly away.”
“And if you’re in a car accident, you’re not promised to walk away either.” He lifts a challenging brow. “You don’t want to miss this, I promise.” He leans down, brushes his lips against mine. The gentle kiss morphs into a passionate one as he pulls me into his body, one hand grips my ass, one in my hair. It’s as if he knows the exact point when my body and mind submit to him, when everything else around us doesn’t matter, that he pulls back reminding me where we are. And we’re not alone. My cheeks flush in embarrassment.
I glance over my shoulder at Brecken. “Sorry,” I say, feeling the need to apologize for our PDA.
He holds his hand up. “No need to apologize. I’m just over here, blown away that Max has a romantic side. Who knew?”
Max roars out in laughter. “She definitely brings out the worst in me.”
I stab him with my finger in the stomach. “And you like it.”
His eyes warm, finding mine, as he says, “I love it.”
Oh! Butterflies flutter in my belly. Did he just tell me he loved me?
His gaze is focused behind me and the way his eyes glow with wonderment makes me turn in his arms. No, he didn’t. Not wanting to miss the beautiful piece of artwork in front of me, I push back all thoughts of love and the hope that he said it.
There’s still a bite to the early morning air as we rise higher. Leaning my head back against Max, I watch as we join the other balloons, all moving in the same direction, like a flock of geese. I begin to sing “99 Red Balloons” by Nena to tamper down some of my nerves. The basketweave tattoo on my palm will probably last for days. But that’s okay, because I’m not letting go until we’re safe on the ground. We float alongside a river, surrounded by luscious greenery. “What river is that?”
“Rio Grande,” Brecken answers behind us. My stomach drops at the sound of swooshing. The balloon lowers closer and closer to the water.
I lean around Max. “I didn’t want to go for a swim,” I nervously say.
A smile dances on his lips as he shrugs a shoulder. “Just thought you might want a closer glimpse.”
“Nope. I’m good, thanks.”
The rest of the trip, Brecken behaves and we glide through the sky. By the time we land, I’m ready to go again despite my fears. It truly was a phenomenal experience.
And Max and I just had our first official date.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sydney
“Don’t you have a company to run?”
My red fingernail drags across his taut chest making random shapes. We’re in Phoenix, our last stop on the tour. Nothing from my stalker for the three weeks Max and his team have been here. Yet, so much has happened in those three weeks between me and Max. Fear and uncertainty mounts daily the closer we get to me returning home. I’ve let go of the guilt, opening my heart to Max, but now I wonder if it was a bad idea. We lead two different lifestyles. On two different coasts. I tap down the negative emotions, wanting to live in this moment for a little longer.
“I’m doing my job right now. Keeping you safe.”
“You’re laying in my bed, naked. Is this how you keep all your clients safe?” I tease.
His hand lazily runs down my back, chills pebbled my skin and I yelp when he smacks my ass. “No,” he chuckles. “I don’t mix work and play.”
Lifting slightly, I rest my chin on my hand. My thumb brushes over his nipple and he glances down at me with a lifted brow. “You’re setting a bad precedent, boss man.”
The room spins as he flips me to my back with ease. He looms over me and I shimmy up the bed to move away from his heavy thigh pressed against my core.
“At least you
understand how this works.” My brows furrow and he laughs at my confusion. “I am the boss. Always remember that.” He says it in a joking manner, but he’s not. His need for control is paramount in his daily life. I’m okay with that as long as he doesn’t try to control me.
My eyes shine up to his. “You’re the boss. Now go boss someone into getting us some breakfast, I’m starving. And you’re super heavy.” I wiggle underneath him until he rolls his massive body to the side of me. Watching him push off the bed, the sheets drape off his strong body until they slip off and I bite my lip, wondering if there was ever a better built man. When the shower turns on, I roll over and snatch the phone off the side table.
Ever since the night of the awards, the rumor mill has been going nuts trying to find out who Max is. His guys give him hell, reading all the comments from the various social media sites. The brazen comments women leave on posted pictures of him are crazy. An article pops up on my search I hadn’t seen before. Who is the real #AMAsmostwanted?
I dart my eyes to the bathroom, making sure Max isn’t standing there, and still hear the shower so I click the link. An article from Page six pops up. Oh, shit. Part of me hoped I would find a personal blog, or even a known paparazzi post that everyone knows is full of shit. But nope, this is a legit resource people read daily.
“Billionaire bodyguard, Max Shaw, is tall, dark and dangerous. And I’m not talking about his looks.” I gasp, reading the article. Despite knowing it’s about Max, it’s like I’m reading about a stranger. Why didn’t I know any of this?
Engrossed in reading, I don’t realize Max is in the room until he says, “Food will be here in twenty minutes.”
I jump and instinctually close out my phone. Why do I do that? He caught me red-handed, yet I try to hide the evidence. With a cocked brow, he stalks to the bed. I sit up, lean against the grey tuft headboard and grip the sheets over my breasts.
“You’re a horrible liar,” he says, with an amused smirk.
I huff in defense. “I haven’t lied about anything.”
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.” The word falls from my mouth before I can stop it, realizing he just set me up.
His laugh echoes in the room as I stick my tongue out. “You tricked me.”
I squeal as he grabs my blanketed foot and yanks me to a laying down position. The smell of soap and deodorant wafts in the air. I blow the hair that escaped my rat nest on top of my head out of my face. Max kneels on the bed, a white towel hangs low on his hips. He straddles me, gripping each of my hands and pinning them to my sides with his legs so I can’t move.
“I should teach you a lesson about lying to me. I won’t have it,” he states, leaving no room for argument. I watch as his fingers loosen the towel, opening it to reveal how hard he is. “Still hungry?” he muses, inching up a little on his knees, bringing his cock inches from my mouth. My breathing quickens and my mouth waters as I lick my lips.
He deems this a punishment? I should be bad more often.
He hums as my gaze fixates on his hand, pumping himself a couple times. All my nerve endings tingle with desire in anticipation. Until he reaches behind him and snatches the phone out of my hand. I jerk to meet his eyes, disappointment meets disappointment. Although, mine is fueled by desire, his… displeasure.
When he rolls off me, I blow out a ragged sigh, irritated with myself that I’m angry. I’m the one hiding something. Ignoring his glances, I scoot to the side of the bed. “I hope your blue balls make your dick fall off,” I spat before putting a shirt over my head. He pulls up a pair of basketball shorts and sits back down.
His smile is disarming, making it hard to stay mad. I shimmy into my panties and sit on the chair, bringing my knees to my chest as I watch him mess with my phone.
“Let’s see what we have here.”
I smile inwardly as he opens my phone and meets a password screen. He types in six numbers without so much of a pause. “How do you know my password?” I panic, thrusting up and reaching for my phone.
“It’s entertaining you think you can stop me.” He holds my phone away from me with one hand, pushing me back with the other.
“You don’t play fair,” I snicker, giving up the fight. “And we’re going to talk about privacy.”
His eyes dart up from my phone. “First, playing fair was never my game. Second, when your safety is involved, it’s my business to know everything. No. Fucking. Secrets.” I swallow at the intensity of his voice.
I plop back down on the chair. “It wasn’t even about me,” I mutter.
He stands and walks over to me, holds out my phone without looking at the article. “I don’t like secrets, Sydney.”
So you’ve said. The way my real name rolls off his tongue, it’s punishment in itself. I don’t unfold my arms from around my knees. Max’s jaw tightens and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, staring down at me. “Sorry.”
I grab my phone. “That almost sounded sincere.”
He mutters a few curse words. “It was,” he snaps, pacing the floor. “What am I supposed to think when I walk into a room and you obviously hide something from me? I’m just supposed to look the other way? Because if that’s how relationships work, I can tell you right now, we’re going to have a huge problem.”
“I didn’t mean to hide it. It was a knee jerk reaction.” That’s a slight lie. I’m worried how he’ll react when he finds out everyone knows who he is. Max’s job relies on him being a private person and his life was just put on the front cover of Page Six. Because of me. I sigh, pulling up the article on my phone and holding it up for him to take back. “It’s about you,” I whisper.
His brows shoot up and he takes it back. I watch for any reaction as he reads it. Typical Max, his face is set in stone the whole time. When he’s done, he turns my phone off, placing it on the table next to me and sits on the bed with his arms crossed.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
“Um, I guess,” I hesitate, not ready for this conversation. Instead, I was ready for him to be furious, call Stone to take down their network, send Kase to threaten the journalists. Just not this. Not yet. “Are you not mad?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I’m surprised it took them this long.”
“Oh.”
“Tink, I was prepared to be in the public eye the night I went to the awards with you. Nothing in that article is false or character damaging. They didn’t need to dig hard because it’s not hidden.”
My shoulders drop and I chew on my lip. “Except, I didn’t know.” I’ve known Max for over two years and I’m dating him, yet according to that article, I don’t know a thing about him.
He observes me. “Did you learn anything that would make you feel differently about me?”
“No,” I say, throwing my arms out. “But your dad was Zachary Lewis. Max, he built like half of New York City. The Lewister Hotel is named after him. That article said that you were his only heir to a couple billion dollars. Billions, Max!”
He chuckles, standing up and takes a couple long strides and then squats in front of me. He tugs each of my legs off the chair and nestles in between them. “You knew I had money, babe. And do you introduce yourself to people by telling them who your father is?”
I snort. “No, but all my dad left me was a mom who hates me.”
I love you, Daddy. I glance up. Just in case he’s listening. Don’t get me wrong, I miss him every day and wish he was still here to see how I finally made it. He would be so proud. It’s been three years since I heard his laughter. Saw his face light up as we watched a Cowboys game together. Argued over whether peanut M&M’s or plain M&M’s were better. I drop my eyes and focus on the tiny freckle on my thigh, not wanting Max to see my emotions getting the best of me.
“My dad might have left me a lot of money, but what he didn’t give me, your dad gave you in spades.” I meet his eyes, wondering what he’s referring to. “My dad loved me in his own way, but like my mom,
he didn’t have time for a kid either. I saw my dad maybe three times a year.” That breaks my heart. A boy needs his father. He is right though, my dad had to love me enough for two people.
“Is that why you have your mom’s maiden name?”
He shakes his head. “Shaw is Dan’s last name. He adopted me when I was five at the request of Zack.” I pull back, surprised the request came from his real dad. “He was afraid his life as a public figure would affect my life negatively, so they decided that was best for me.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “And here you are, thanks to me, in the public eye.”
“Again, let’s not worry about that.” His lips reach mine for a chaste kiss. “Any other questions?” he whispers and I shake my head. The simple brush of his lips makes me forget what else was in the article. I’ll learn about Max organically like all other new relationships.
Not long after eating our room service food, we pack up to head to the venue. Max reaches for the door handle but doesn’t turn it. Instead, he whips around and pulls me into his body. His grip tightens around my waist and he kisses me until I’m gasping for breath. When he lets go of me, I brace myself with a hand on the wall after our passionate exchange, needing to find my balance before I can walk.
His wicked smile and the gleam in his eyes makes my knees weak. No man has ever looked at me like Max does. Dominating, desire and genuine interest all wound up tight within steel-blue eyes. When he’s with me, his attention never waivers making me feel worshipped. It’s an addictive quality.
“That’ll have to last me until I can sneak into your dressing room.” He winks and walks out, leaving me still breathless. The thought doesn’t help dull the craving, it just intensifies it. Thinking of him bending me over the couch in my dressing room, taking me from behind, fast and hard. I groan out of frustration.
“Dammit, Sydney. If you don’t stop thinking about Max, you’ll run out of dry underwear,” I whisper to myself.
