Lori Foster

by Get Your Guy; Messing Around withMax Tempted - Little Miss Innocent; Annie

  “Max?”

  “Easy now, Maddie. Just a little more. Damn, you feel good.”

  She took two gasping breaths. “So…do you.”

  He pulled out, felt her hands grip his shoulders, her legs curl around his hips trying to keep him close, and he drove forward again.

  Maddie tipped her head back on the pillow. “This is better than any damn feather!”

  “You better believe it.” Max gave up the fight and began a rhythm that supplied just the right amount of pressure, just the right friction. “Squeeze me, Maddie,” he rasped. “It’ll make it better for you. Tighter.” He moaned. “That’s it.”

  Holding him with arms, legs and hidden muscles, Maddie began to feel a part of him, a very necessary part.

  Max meant to make the pleasure last, meant to give her a half-dozen orgasms so that she’d never be able to forget him, never be able to move on to the next man.

  But it was already too late for him.

  With a roar worthy of a wild beast, he came and Maddie joined him.

  Unfortunately, their combined yells woke Cleo, who was highly affronted by their unseemly behavior.

  And just as Max had predicted, she refused to leave the room.

  Their night of debauchery was over.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WHERE’S THE BOOK?”

  Maddie drew up short, staring back at the three women eyeing her so suspiciously. Darn, she’d forgotten all about the book!

  Tossing her backpack—what she carried instead of a bothersome purse—into a seat, Maddie slumped onto the cracked leather couch. “I don’t have it.”

  Bea snorted, making her white hair wobble precariously. Bea spent more time on securing her big hairdos than she did on anything else. “You mean it doesn’t exist.”

  “Does, too,” Maddie returned petulantly, then grimaced as Mavis and Carmilla shared a look. “I’ll get the book. It’s just that…well…” A big grin broke over her face and she leaned forward in excitement. “You guys were right!”

  Catching Maddie’s enthusiasm, all three women leaned forward. Silver hair blended with white blended with glaring red. Hands wrinkled from time and a working woman’s life reached for Maddie.

  Carmilla spoke first, her tone hushed with scandalized delight. “You didn’t.”

  Bea laughed. “I’ll bet she did! Just look at her. She’s glowing.”

  “Only one thing gives a woman a glow like that,” Mavis agreed, and she was grinning like a loon. “’Bout damn time, if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you,” the other two replied, always too contrary to agree with Mavis’s constant predictions.

  Maddie let all three of them hold her hands, her wrists, her shoulder. “He’s positively dreamy,” she said. “A stud, just as you told me he should be.”

  “Give.”

  “Yes, every single detail, honey. I wait with bated breath.”

  Carmilla chuckled. “Mavis, there ain’t a damn thing she can tell you that you haven’t done a million times yourself, so forget the ‘swooning young girl’ act.”

  Mavis slanted Carmilla a venomous look that didn’t mean a darn thing. Maddie knew they just loved to twit each other.

  “Carmilla, darling, at sixty-eight, I am a girl compared to you.”

  Bea slapped her knee. As the oldest at seventy-five, she often played the peacekeeper. “She’s got you there, old girl.”

  Maddie cleared her throat. “Do you three want to hear this or not?”

  Mavis waved a hand. “Tell all.”

  “I did everything you said—well most of what you said. And he took me home just as you told me he would. It was a little rocky, but I finally won.”

  Carmilla blinked dark brown eyes. Her face was wrinkled and worn, but in a nice way, like a favorite pair of house slippers that only became more comfortable and appealing the longer you had them. “Whatd’ya mean, it got rocky? He didn’t jump your bones?”

  “Uh, no. I jumped his.”

  Mavis harrumphed indignantly. Her eyes spit green fire, which went well with her bright red hair. She resembled a beacon in the night, able to pull in any wayward male souls—which had been the point back when all her work was done at night. She kept the bright hair out of sentiment, and because the senior men still tended to flock to her like flies to honey. She had that special “oomph” or charisma—whatever you called it—that men never seemed to outgrow.

  According to Mavis, she sometimes missed working the corner. Holding hands and behaving like a lady didn’t suit her at all.

  “What kind of man,” Mavis demanded, “would have to be jumped?”

  “He’s a very good man.”

  “Honey, there ain’t no such thing.”

  Bea swatted at Carmilla. “Don’t tell her such a thing! Of course there are good men.”

  “Good for certain things, but she’s not ready for love everlasting again so soon.”

  “For pity’s sake, Carmilla, no one mentioned love everlasting!”

  “Look at her eyes, Bea. That girl is smitten.”

  Everyone turned to stare deeply into Maddie’s eyes. She squirmed and immediately felt defensive. “It’s not like that at all! You know I’ve given up on that.”

  “After what your scumbait fiancé did? Hell yeah, you gave up. I still think you should let us contact a few old friends. I’m tellin’ ya, Tiny would love to give your old beau a good goin’ over.”

  Bea shook her head in exasperation. “You are so bloodthirsty, Carmilla.”

  Mavis snorted. “I agree with her. We should all rough him up, the miserable bastard.”

  Laughing, Maddie took turns giving each of them a hug. She always felt comforted by their fragile, warm embraces, given from the heart.

  She’d been working as a counselor for several years now, and she’d made some friends along the way. She’d started with troubled teens, and gradually been shifted to older women. A lot of those women were now in homes with families and jobs, or doing volunteer work. But Mavis, Carmilla and Bee were aging rebels, women who refused to conform to society’s strictures. They were fun loving and adventurous despite their fragile bones, and energetic in a way that belied their years.

  They no longer needed her counsel, but they still liked to meet. And being with them helped temper the more stressful sessions Maddie had with abused women, or recovering alcoholics.

  Maddie loved Carmilla, Bea and Mavis dearly. For her, they served as surrogate mothers, aunts, best friends and confidants all rolled into one. She admired them for what they’d survived, worried about them endlessly, and counted on them much more than they counted on her, though not a one of them would ever admit it.

  She smiled at them. “Max is a good man, I promise. He’s a hound dog, no doubt about that—which makes him perfect for my coming-out. But he’s also honorable.”

  “All men,” Carmilla said, “are hound dogs, some are just better at it than others.”

  Mavis raised a slim, drawn-on red brow. “So is this young man good?”

  Maddie bobbed her head, making the women laugh. “Yeah.” In a whisper, she confided, “He said I was sexy.” Then, even lower, “And he seems to know all kinds of kinky stuff.”

  Carmilla gulped. “Kinky sexual stuff?”

  Bea shook her head. “Of course she means kinky sexual stuff. What’d you think? That he wears his shoes backward?” Then to Maddie, “So what’d you do?”

  “Nothing kinky,” she rushed to reassure them. “He sort of lost control. But the good old conventional stuff was…well, incredible.”

  “Well then,” Bea said, setting aside her round glasses. “It’s no wonder you’re running a little late this morning.”

  Mavis signed. “I remember those mornings.”

  Carmilla nudged her hard enough to almost knock her off her chair. “Baloney. What you remember is the money on the nightstand, not a warm body in the bed.”

  Mavis grinned. “That, too.”

  It never ceased to amaze
Maddie how open and…cavalier the women were about their hardships. To hear them tell it, life as a hooker had been a lark. But she’d talked with each of them enough to know that was simply their way of burying the past.

  It sometimes broke her heart.

  This time, as always, she hid her reaction with a smile. “Max didn’t spend the night.”

  “What?”

  “That cad!”

  “I say we get hold of Tiny,” Carmilla growled, “and let him teach old Max a few manners.”

  “It’s not like that,” Maddie hurried to explain. “You see, he has this dog.”

  Blank stares were the only response.

  “The dog is adorable. Well, not physically. But she’s very sweet. When she’s not growling.”

  Mavis chortled. “Sounds like Carmilla.”

  “Ha ha.”

  Biting back her own laugh, Maddie said, “The dog has a…well, a bladder problem.”

  Bea leaned toward Mavis and said low, “I can certainly relate.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, be quiet Bea!”

  Maddie raised her voice to forestall the start of a new quarrel. “Max didn’t want the dog to soil my carpet, so he went home.”

  “Afterward?” Mavis asked suspiciously.

  Smiling, Maddie confirmed, “Yes, afterward.” And in dreamy tones, “Way afterward.”

  “She’s got that look again.”

  “Well,” Maddie explained, “it was more wonderful than I’d ever imagined.”

  “Hurray!”

  “’Bout damn time.”

  “Your damn ex-fiancé should be shot.”

  Maddie laughed out loud with the joy of it. She’d never imagined, never guessed, that sex could be so wonderful. Max had scandalized her with a few of the wonderful, incredible, sizzling hot things he’d done to her and with her.

  But she wouldn’t have had him stop a single one.

  “So when are you seeing him again?”

  At Bea’s question, the other two got quiet, all of them waiting for her reply. Maddie forced a negligent shrug.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m sorry, Carmilla, but it’s the truth. I’m not sure what to do now. Max is a confirmed bachelor, and I’m afraid if I get too clingy, it’ll spook him.”

  “You assured him,” Mavis asked, “that all you wanted was some good one-on-one experiences to store away for a rainy day?”

  “Yes, I told him all that. I don’t understand him. He seemed to really resist me, but then once things got going, he was…”

  “Into it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Typical man. Fickle, all of them.” Mavis shook her head. “Why, I knew a guy once—”

  Bea threw up her hands. “You knew lots of guys in lots of ways, Mavis. For cryin’ out loud, let’s don’t go tromping down memory’s bumpy lane right now. We need to figure this out for Maddie.”

  Carmilla crossed her arms beneath her massive bosom and said three words. “Let’s call Tiny.”

  “I have a better idea,” Mavis said, ignoring Bea because she had obviously wanted to go down memory lane. “Forget about him.”

  Maddie bit her bottom lip. Though she knew it was probably best, and it had been her original plan, she didn’t want to forget about Max. Not yet, maybe not for a long, long time.

  Maybe not ever. No, she would not think that!

  Bea patted her arm. “Now look what you’ve done, Mavis! You’re going to make her cry.”

  “I’m not crying!” Maddie had no intention of getting maudlin over Max Sawyers. This was an adventure, an experience, a way to add lascivious excitement to her PG-rated life. She wouldn’t let herself get hurt over it.

  “Get rid of that long face, Maddie,” Mavis said with a laugh. “I didn’t mean forget about him forever. Just long enough to whet his appetite. If this Max fellow is anything like you say, he’ll expect you to be after him now, wanting more of his sexy body and all the well-oiled parts. Well, throw ’em for a loop, I always say! Don’t give him what he wants.”

  Carmilla gasped with glee. “Exactly! That’s brilliant, Mavis!”

  Mavis pretended to have a heart attack over the praise and wouldn’t quit until Bea threatened to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  “Men always want what they can’t have.” Carmilla rubbed her hands together. “As long as you don’t give it to him, he’ll keep coming back.”

  “I already gave it to him.”

  “He’ll want it again, and more.”

  “But…” Maddie wondered how to phrase her worry. Then she decided that with these three, delicacy wasn’t needed. “I want to give him more.”

  “Music to my ears.” Bea patted her hand and said, “You’re a healthy woman, honey. Just tell him that. Sex—but nothing else,” she warned. “It’s the ‘nothing else’ that’ll get his goat. I promise, it’ll drive him plumb crazy and before you know it, he’ll be the one chasing you.”

  “But wait at least a week,” Mavis advised. “After a week, he won’t know what to think! He’ll be gnawing on his own insecurity. Oh, it’ll be so sweet.”

  “I want to meet him,” Bea suddenly declared. “Bring him around. I want to judge for myself if he’s worth all this bother.”

  Maddie knew firsthand that Max was more than worth it, but she wanted to show him off to the ladies. She wanted them to see him and experience his charm.

  “I could go to him in a week to get the book—”

  Carmilla’s rough laugh interrupted Maddie’s plan. “A book that claims to have Satisfying Alternatives to Intercourse has to be drivel.”

  “Or an outright lie.” Bea watched Maddie with a calculating eye as she delivered that insult.

  Trying not to laugh, Maddie assured them, “It exists, and I have it on good authority that it’s excellent.”

  “Bring it, and the young man. We’ll check them both out.”

  “Yes, Mavis,” Maddie agreed. “And then all three of you will owe me an apology.”

  There was a general round of grumbling over that prospect, then a snort of contempt, proving that not one of them planned to apologize at all. No, they just intended to meddle, but Maddie didn’t mind. She could barely wait to see Max’s reaction to them.

  She figured if she could be cordial to his dog, dealing with Mavis, Carmilla and Bea ought to be a piece of cake.

  SHE DIDN’T CALL, she didn’t write…

  Max paced the small confines of the bookstore, his temper high, his mood black.

  His manly ego thoroughly damaged.

  He’d written three columns on the evils of women-on the-make, then had to destroy them. Truth was so often stranger than fiction, and no one would have believed that he was actually complaining about the situation.

  In fact, he could barely believe it himself. But dammit, he’d bought a box of condoms just for her! He had three of the little silver packets in his wallet right now.

  Yet she hadn’t so much as blinked when he’d told her he couldn’t spend the night a week ago. She hadn’t offered him her phone number, hadn’t invited him back, hadn’t done anything but thank him.

  And now he knew why.

  Maddie truly had just been using him. One time. One lousy damn time and she was through with him. She had the number for the bookstore, and she knew Annie. She could have gotten his home number. But no. She’d ignored him without hesitation.

  The hair on the back of Max’s neck bristled. How dare she? He was no lady’s conquest! He wasn’t a man to be trifled with!

  He had a good mind to storm over to her apartment and see for himself if she’d reduced him to a nick in the bedpost. Only…what if she was with another man when he showed up?

  What if she took his visit as a sign of jealousy?

  Max cursed and started pacing again. If he found a man there, he just knew he’d get rip-roaring mad and probably do something foolish—like punch the guy out.

  And h
e sure as hell didn’t want it to look like he was chasing her. Ha! The very idea was absurd. Women chased him, not the other way around.

  Max sighed as he stalked the perimeter of the bookstore once again. It was bad enough to be in such a foul mood without having to deal with Annie’s shop as well. But his little sister and Guy were off wallowing in premarital ecstasy, on a wedding planning venture that seemed to have no end in sight.

  Guy insisted that Annie have the biggest and best wedding around. And his father agreed. They didn’t know he had a job writing for the paper, so they probably thought they were doing him a favor, keeping him employed. Ha.

  Curse them all.

  Cleo whined, tilted her small head and gave Max a quizzical look. If he didn’t know better—but he damn well did—he’d think Cleo missed Maddie, too. Impossible. The woman was too pushy to be missed by man or beast.

  So why had Cleo been moping so much? Why had she been so maudlin? He loved Cleo, he really did, but it was almost repulsive to see her dragging her chubby little short-legged body around in a depression. He preferred her grumbling and snapping to the worried, unhappy look she’d worn since Maddie left.

  Now he knew where the term “hangdog expression” had come from, because Cleo wore it all over her furry face.

  “I’m fine, Cleo,” Max bit out, “so quit frowning at me.”

  Cleo looked unconvinced. She whined again and laid her head on the floor, resting it on her front paws and staring up at Max with wrinkled brows and quivering whiskers.

  “Stop fretting!” he demanded, unable to bear it a second more. “It doesn’t suit you at all. Besides, I’m just stewing in my own juices.”

  “And what juices would those be?”

  Max jumped at the soft, teasing female voice. Maddie stood there in the doorway looking sweet and sexy and happy to see him, as if a damn week hadn’t gone by, as if she hadn’t been ignoring him completely after taking him like a convenient body with no soul.

  No, Max admitted to himself, that wasn’t quite the way it had happened. She’d taken his body, yes—most thoroughly in fact—but she’d also grabbed his heart and soul with both fists.

  It was unbearable.