WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One

by Juliet Braddock

  In an effort to ease the awkward tension, Ben extended his hand. “Drew McKenzie, I’m Ben Worthington…and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Thank God, I was right! But this kid is a fan. Fuck.

  “Uh…” Reluctantly, he accepted Ben’s shake. “You know me?”

  Little did Drew realize the identity of his real secret admirer. In fact, he’d left her lounging in her bedroom just minutes ago. The humor delighted Ben on so many levels that he wanted to go back there and just jump into bed with Maxine until she fessed up.

  “Oh…well…I’m…” I’m covering up for my best friend, whom you might have stripped of her virginity at long fucking last, because she’s had a fucking crush on you since she was twelve! “I’m a bit of a theater buff…”

  Speaking of buff, Ben couldn't deny the raging party in his own boxers. Seeing his best friend's object of lust up-close after all those years of hearing her wax endlessly about this man, Ben had to admit that she was right. There was something quite alluring about this guy.

  Now he couldn’t wait to hear the story about how Drew McKenzie took little Maxine Kirk’s virginity! Yes, moving to New York was the best possible thing she could have done for herself. Right down to having her sweet little cherry proverbially popped by her teenage crush. He was so proud of her.

  Meanwhile, Drew began to sink in his own unease. Twelve hours ago, he went out with the intention to simply play the game. He had a huge show coming up, one that even his toughest critics said might afford him the chance at finally winning a fucking Tony. If he wanted to win, he had to start kissing asses within the theater community now—even before rehearsals began. On a grassroots level, he needed to rally the troops, get them excited and convince them that he was indeed worthy to join the upper echelons of Broadway society.

  He certainly had no intentions of meeting up or hooking up with an ingénue publicist.

  Now he was nearly naked and stood in her kitchen, having a bit of a kerfuffle with her gay best friend, who quite possibly had a crush on him. Not that he minded or had any concerns in the least. Half of his fan base was comprised of gay men, as was his best friend and former roommate, for crissakes. It was the fact that he already knew Ben adored her and likely minded Maxine like a hawk that left him rattled. Fuck.

  Conversation. Make some, Mack. Your mother taught you well. Socialize! “You guys offer quite a selection on the continental breakfast menu…”

  Ben's face froze in a smile while a nervous laugh slipped through his open mouth. “You know, had I known we were having company, I would have pulled out all the stops. Bagels. Salmon. Fresh fruit. Agata and Valentina's not far. I could run over there, and…”

  At least Ben had the sense of a true epicurean. Agata and Valentina was one of the finest fresh food markets in the city, if not the best on the Upper East Side.

  “No!” Drew raised his hand, as his nose caught a whiff of the smoky scent of burnt toast rising. Aw, shit! This is not how your morning was supposed to unfold. Yes, he loved good food, but preparing it wasn’t exactly his forte.

  “Oh, she’ll love it,” Ben said, covering his hand with an oven mitt to remove the smoldering blackened slice of bread from the toaster. “Slap some butter on it, and Max will eat it.” But only because you made it for her, buddy, he thought.

  “What she needs is a nutritionist,” Drew sputtered without thinking first.

  “Ah-ha! We have common ground here,” Ben patted him on the back. “If you can change her wicked ways, you’re my new idol…”

  Turning around rather sharply, Drew leaned against the counter and raised a suspicious brow. “I thought we already shared common ground in my career?”

  “Truthfully…” Ben said and turned away sheepishly. “I’ve only seen you in one show. With Maxine. And it closed two weeks later…”

  His sigh hissing through his teeth, Drew at least had to admire Ben’s honesty. “I’ll forgive you,” he returned his attention to his second attempt to make toast, that time turning the settings down to low. “Eventually.”

  “Yeah…” Ben said, dropping his head in shame. He wondered how much Maxine had told Drew about her fascination with his…career. “I'll catch ya next time around, though, I promise.”

  Drew was only paying partial attention to Ben as he minded the toast while searching for two clean coffee mugs, then popped in two more slices of bread. Fucking college kids. Oh, well, Maxine had just moved in. He couldn’t blame her completely. Not yet, at least.

  Luckily, though, from his days of waiting tables, Drew could manage carrying two mugs of coffee and “breakfast” back into the bedroom. He hoped Ben didn’t have any intentions of following.

  “Um…one last thing…” Ben said, eyeing up the nearly empty pot. “Can I have that last cup of coffee?”

  “It’s yours, isn’t it?” he shrugged. “I was merely stealing for the lady.”

  “The Captain doesn’t drinketh,” Ben reminded him. “She doesn’t…”

  “Like warm beverages…” they both spoke at the same time, then regarded each other with a bit of tense hilarity.

  “I deem to sway her,” Drew assured him.

  “Good luck with that,” Ben said, giving Drew the old thumbs-up.

  Oh, young man, don’t underestimate the power of my ability, Drew thought as he maneuvered away to return to Maxine’s room.

  “And…by the way,” Drew spied him with suspicion. “You call her Captain?”

  “Maxine Kirk…Star Trek…”

  Stupid, Mack. Now you look completely dumb in front of the bestie! “Ah…yes…”

  Damn, that ass was tight, Ben mused as he brought his thumb to his mouth for a bite of his nail while spying Drew’s rather nimble attempt to carry Maxine’s breakfast to her bed. Dude had to be in his thirties already, but he was still a mighty fine specimen. He only hoped that Maxine’s rather untrained eyes appreciated Drew’s perfect physique.

  It nearly killed Ben to refrain from sneaking back to her room and pressing his ear against the door. Now he couldn't fucking wait for Drew to leave! He had to hear every last detail from Maxine's lips herself…

  # # #

  “Breakfast is served…” Drew said, quite proud of himself for maintaining the agility after all these years to walk and open doors while carrying hot dishes and cups.

  “Mmmm…” Maxine slowly pushed herself up from the bed, wondering if she should tuck the blankets around her bare chest or simply let her breasts fall where they would. However, she decided that modesty was the best policy. Stretching her neck and puckering her lips, she asked, “Do I get a kiss with this lovely spread?”

  “No…” he said, quite matter of fact.

  Taken slightly aback, she accepted his offer of the mug and allowed the aroma to waft toward her nose. Coffee didn’t smell so bad. Maybe she could take a couple of sips just to humor him.

  One…not as awful as she remembered, but he’d obviously poured enough sugar in the cup to make syrup. Two…maybe she could have a cup upon occasion after dinner. Three…

  “Ben seems like he’s a nice guy,” Drew said suddenly.

  Eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, she almost spit a mouthful all over the brand-new duvet. “You met him?”

  “Yeah,” Drew nodded as he sat down beside her on the bed. “Apparently, today wasn’t one of those days where he felt like sleeping until noon.”

  Ben probably hadn’t expected Maxine to have brought home a suitor either, she reasoned. In fact, he likely wanted to get up and get moving with whatever plans he had in store for her. Oh, dear, she was in for the interrogation of her life that day—all at the hands of her best friend.

  “So, little one,” he began, lifting his own cup of coffee to his lips, “about last night…”

  Uncertain whether the heat fanning out over her cheeks stemmed from her own chagrin or the coffee cup she held to hide her face, Maxine whispered, “You’re still here…”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he ask
ed sweetly, dropping his arm around her bare back. “We shared a rather monumental evening of your life so far together. Besides, I decided that I rather liked waking up next to you.”

  He could see her grin around the rim of her mug. “For real?”

  With a nod, he returned her smile. “I’ve already told you,” he began, “there’s something I like about you. And even though we haven’t scratched the surface yet, curiosity is telling me to stick around to find out what truly makes you tick.”

  “Well, likewise,” she managed and decided it was time to place the cup on her nightstand. Admittedly, Maxine found herself caught between the fantasy of this unexpected turn of events with the man on whom she'd had a crush for so long and the reality of the ugly world he was obviously trying so desperately to ignore. As subtle nuances of his agony crept toward the surface, she wanted to know more—she wanted to listen, and she wanted to help him if that was even a possibility. “You've essentially told me nothing about Drew yet—what inspires him…his likes and dislikes…his life off the stage…?”

  Yes, she knew, he reasoned at last. However, Drew didn’t think that Maxine’s inquisitiveness was born out of her need to gossip or some sick need to pry into his past. Empathy cloaked her innocent stare.

  Taking her tiny hand in his, he entwined his long thick fingers with hers. “By the end of this week, you'll know enough, Maxine. And you'll be able to make your decision.”

  “But what about now?” she prodded him. “Talk to me…”

  Although she knew she’d taken the road to nowhere, she had to try, sensing that his own fears might be just as great as her own.

  “For now, you’ll have to exert some patience—which I’ve already noticed is a difficult thing for you. Isn’t it?”

  His astute observation not only diverted her attention but also left her feeling a little chilly, as his words toyed with her wits again. Her nipples were still hard with the pull of his earlier pinch, and that longing between her legs hadn’t left her since she’d opened her eyes.

  “Oh, we’re feeling a little aroused again, aren’t we, little one?”

  How he could possibly know only enhanced her desires. She needed him. Desperately. Yesterday.

  “See what you missed all those years by just touching yourself?” he continued to taunt. “It’s fun when someone watches you, too.”

  “This morning…?” she wondered out loud.

  He shook his head. “Not this morning. And, by the way, I don't want you masturbating unless I give you permission.”

  Jeering, Maxine had to question his rationale behind that order. “How will you know? Did you install cameras while I was sleeping?”

  “Don’t underestimate me—ever—Maxine,” he cautioned. “I have the money and the means to do it.”

  Meeting his eyes, she stared into those two whirling pools of blue, endeavoring to uncover his motives. His threats could be terrifying…if his moves weren’t so titillating.

  Suddenly, she didn't care if Ben was awake and waiting. This moment—this chance—might never befall her again, and she couldn't allow it to pass without making an effort to erase any regrets she might have later. His needs were evident, stretching the tight material of the only item of clothing he wore. An adventuresome will overwhelmed her, and she grabbed for the waistband of his boxers without warning. Certainly, he couldn't resist her touch.

  “Stop!” he demanded.

  Her delicate fingers caught in his fist, she flinched mockingly. “Oh, come on!” she wailed. “I wanna see! You’ve seen all of me…”

  Returning her hands to her lap, he muttered, “Pushy for a virgin, aren’t we? Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of restraints.”

  “Reee…straints?” She was certain that she’d broken the sound barrier with that octave range.

  “Such a bad little one this morning, aren’t we?” he said, swatting gently at her hands. “You know, Maxine, trying to grab my cock so shamelessly as you just did is a punishable offense…”

  Restraints…offenses…punishments…

  Her mind whirled as she wiggled her bare bottom against the bed. Maybe he was trying to frighten her, but she found this rough talk rather…intriguing.

  “Don’t worry, little one,” he assuaged her immediate fears…and taunted her with cheap little thrills. “You’re not ready yet.”

  Yes, she was, she insisted to herself. Throttled back to square one, she couldn't process her thoughts as Drew pulled another fast move and got up from the bed to pull his pants over his long, rigid legs.

  No! He couldn't just leave her! He was torturous.

  “I want you to finish every last bite of those four slices of toast before I leave here this morning.”

  While she yearned for nothing more than for Drew to just impale her with that hardness with which he’d so devilishly baited her, she shrieked in frustration. And all she could think of to say in the midst of her fully unleashed arousal was, “I can’t eat four slices!”

  Ignoring her protest, he held one corner up to her lips and instructed, “Chew,” then moved on to inform her, “I’ll be here at eight o’clock this evening. You’ll be ready. Good girl, two more bites. We’re going to have a night on the town in true New York fashion. Chew, Maxine. I don’t want you to choke while on my watch here. And I’ll send you further instructions. Via e-mail. Good. Now on to the second slice. Your phone number is?”

  Whoa! That was a hell of a lot to absorb, while he forced her to eat nonetheless, and with her mouth full, she couldn’t respond. However, once she swallowed, she repeated, “E-mail?”

  “E-mail—I’m old school. But I’ll text you to alert you to check it.” Plucking his jacket from the floor, he retrieved his phone and waited with his address book open. “Digits, please?” he prompted her.

  “Seven…two….four…” she finally said, licking the crumbs from her lips rather salaciously, she thought smugly.

  “Seven-two-four?” he repeated back as he punched the area code into his phone. “Oh, you need a New York number, too. We’ll work on that. And while we’re at it, I need your e-mail, too.”

  After rattling off the rest of her number and her e-mail address, she wrapped the comforter completely around herself and followed him over to the dresser. As he buttoned his shirt and assessed himself in the mirror, he ran his fingers through his wild curls.

  However, Drew wasn’t quite ready to run away from her just yet. In fact, he seemed as if he was quietly absorbing the essence of her. When he reached down and lifted one of the frames from her dresser, Maxine stilled and smiled.

  “Your mom?” he asked. “You two look like twins!”

  Tears stuck in her eyes. She always hated having to explain. “She…passed…” Maxine managed. “Brain cancer…”

  “Oh, dear God…I am…” He lifted her chin then held her against his chest for a gentle squeeze. “I had no idea. I’m so very sorry…and you’re so…so young…”

  “She’s…she was…” Maxine corrected herself “…the reason I’m here. In New York.”

  “And you should be grateful to her for that,” he said, brushing his thumb over her eyes to wipe them. “I apologize again, little one. I can’t imagine…my own mother…what I would do without her…”

  Tentatively, she reached up and placed her tender finger over his lips. “It’s OK…”

  “Listen,” he began and coddled her in his arms, “I didn’t mean to be so intrusive…yes, I want to get to know you, but I had no intention of…I’m truly sorry, Maxine. And there’s no need for you to tell me anything else right now. When you’re ready…if you’re ready…but you have my sympathies…”

  “It’s…it’s appreciated, Drew…”

  And there he simply held her in the middle of her bedroom, hoping she wouldn't cry but prepared to catch her in her downfall. At that moment, he realized just how strong she was. Fuck, she was young, and she'd already suffered through a hell of a ride. Other nuances he'd observed over the last few hours were no
w falling into place. For her sake, though, she did seem to have a support system, at least in Ben. He just hoped he wasn't intruding upon her well-protected little world.

  “I’m…I’ll be alright…” she said at last, reluctantly breaking their embrace as she pulled back slightly. He was still holding the photo of Judy in his hands.

  “I don't want to leave you right now,” he began…but he had to. He suddenly had an unexpected date to plan for the evening. Phenomenal didn't happen without some effort, and he had to leave her with some cheer that morning. “But I promise you—we'll have some fun tonight.”

  “Tonight?” she repeated.

  “I’ve already told you that we’re going out,” he reprimanded—but with the sweetest tone he could conjure. “And you will enjoy yourself…” At least he hoped…

  “Sounds like an edict coming down from the highest court,” she teased.

  “It is, little one,” he said. “And you don’t want to fuck around in the courtroom of Judge McKenzie…”

  “Maybe I do…” she attempted to challenge him as he returned the frame to her dresser…only to find another photo that caught his attention instead.

  Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no! OH, NO!

  If ever Maxine felt close to peeing herself since she passed potty training as a toddler, she did at that moment. He saw the photo. The photo!

  And he picked it up and held it in his hand. Now Drew would never speak to her again.

  “Now…what…is…this?” he questioned.

  Damn actor! She couldn’t determine if that look on his face was one of amusement or disdain…or fear. Give the man his Tony Award!

  She remained unsure as to whether she was most disgraced by the photo itself or by the fact that she was still “Fat Maxine” when it was taken. If he weren't already prepared never to phone her again over her former stalker days, Drew certainly wouldn't want to be seen with some chubby girl on his arm, she reasoned.

  “That’s…me…” he said as if he could barely breathe.

  Great—now Drew was about to hyperventilate right there in the middle of her bedroom. Maxine was in some deep trouble. She just knew it.