“I’m not a cop here, Gene.”
“I’m aware of that. But you’re doing security. So bring me evidence of the jobs you’ve done and the outcomes. It’ll help me build a case to get you back.”
Max paused. “Evidence. Right.”
“Look, I know you’re not the kind of guy to fly by the seat of your pants, so I’ll give you twenty-four hours to consider it.”
“One day? That’s hardly enough time.” Though in truth he already knew what the answer would be.
He was ready. He just needed to finish this job and catch the guys after Rose. Two birds, one stone.
“I have to move on this now. I’ll wait until you’ve finished your assignment, but I need an answer. Otherwise I’ll have to hire whatever shmuck HR puts forward.” He paused. “I want you back, Max. I shouldn’t have had to lose you both.”
Max hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket again. The noise from the pub boomed around him. Rose wouldn’t have been able to hear his conversation. Probably for the best.
“Sorry about that.” He put a hand on her shoulder as he returned to the bar.
“It’s fine.”
“Fine as in the acronym Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?”
The corners of her eyes crinkled as she tried—unsuccessfully—to stifle a smile. “Have you been waiting to say that one back to me?”
“Maybe.” He dropped down on to the stool next to her, keeping one hand on her shoulder. “I have to say this. You deserve better than someone who’s going to screw you around. I don’t want to be that guy.”
“You said you wanted me to trust you. I do.”
Her trust could make the difference in cracking this case. Then he would have the evidence Gene needed to give him his job back, and she’d be safe.
Dammit. He couldn’t get emotionally involved with her, but there wasn’t anything he’d rather do right now than take her home and spend his evening worshiping her body.
You’ve made it clear you’re not sticking around. This is what she wants...what you both want.
“We could always get our food to go,” he said, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips.
The sparkle reappeared in her yellow-green eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
AN HOUR AND a half later they were situated in Rose’s kitchen cleaning up after their pub meal. He’d been itching to get his hands on her, but only allowed himself a brief kiss in the back of the cab on the way home. One little taste...he was like an addict.
He’d always had a healthy appetite for sex, but he wasn’t one of those guys who struggled to control himself—with anything. Rose had pegged him on that from the start. But now it was as if she’d undone some invisible shackles and his whole body existed solely to be joined with hers.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, bending over to throw the food containers into the trash. Her tight silk pants stretched over her perfect behind and his mouth watered. “Actually, don’t stop. I’m quite enjoying it.”
“You’re such a tease.” He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Her head immediately rested against his chest and he smoothed his palms up the front of her body to cup her breasts. Through the thin silk shirt, her nipples pebbled.
“Aren’t you wearing a bra?” he asked as he tweaked the hardened buds.
She arched, pressing her ass against him. The hard ridge of his cock nestled against her lower back, throbbing mercilessly.
“Barely.” She turned her head and nipped at his neck. “Let’s just say it’s a bra one wears for appearance rather than function.”
“All your sensible bras were in the laundry, were they?” He kissed her temple and continued to palm her breasts.
“I wore it for you.”
“That’s a bit presumptuous.” He chuckled against her neck, tilting her head to one side so he could kiss the flesh there.
“But not incorrect, apparently.” She slipped her fingers between them and reached down to grasp him through his jeans.
Her hand smoothed up and down the length of him, making him swell.
“Rose, we need to run that bath or I’m going to take you up against this counter again.”
“Have you got some sort of weird kitchen fetish?” She spun around and stepped out of his grip.
“At this point it’s just a you fetish.” He reached down to adjust himself where his cock strained against the zipper of his fly. “Bath. Now.”
“Yes, captain.” She saluted and hurried off to the bathroom before he had time to respond.
Max took a moment to calm himself. With Rose it was easy to be swept up in the moment, to lose himself in the perfect way she fit against him. He couldn’t allow himself to become addicted to her. He mustn’t.
As he looked back up through the bathroom door, he found her sitting on the edge of the bath. She’d already stripped down to her underwear. The pale white lace of her bra gave her an angelic appearance, though he knew better than to suspect Rose of anything angelic.
She caught him watching her and smiled like a cat who knew she had her prey cornered. Standing, she hooked her hands into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her thighs, snapping the strap against her leg.
She was intoxicating. How was he going to leave her?
8
“YOU’RE JUST IN TIME,” Rose said, turning off the taps as Max entered the bathroom.
The edge of the porcelain tub was cool against her bare legs. She tested the water with one hand, making sure they’d be warm but not overheated.
“Penny for your thoughts?” She cocked her head, watching as his emotional shutters went up.
“None that are important,” he replied, his voice as calm and still as the bathwater, though she knew which one was more transparent.
Fine, so he wasn’t going to open up to her...yet. She’d keep working on him. “You’re a man of many secrets, Max Ridgeway.”
“Isn’t it sexier when there’s a little bit of mystery?”
A smile crept across her lips. “You don’t need any assistance in the sexiness department.”
“I pale in comparison to you.” He stepped forward and swept her up in his arms, his hardness pressing into her softness.
His jeans were abrasive against her bare skin. He raised his roughened hands to the delicate wisp of lace covering her breasts. He traced the strap with his finger, hooking it and letting it snap against her skin. The sound echoed against the tiled walls as he divested her of her last item of clothing.
The buckle on his belt dug into her stomach as he reached around to cup her ass, molding her to him as he kissed her. The pressure of his mouth was gentle at first, his tongue swiping along her lower lip, teasing her open. But the more he kissed her, the harder he got. Everywhere.
She was taken over by the desire to map out his body with her hands. From the hard muscles in his arms, to the perfect rounded curve of his ass, to the scratching stubble along his jaw.
“Are you purposely avoiding the best part?” He moaned into her mouth as he caught her wrist and brought her hand to the bulge of his erection.
Sighing into him, she rubbed her palm up and down the length of his zipper. “Saving it for last.”
She undid the buckle slowly, fighting the urge to rush forward to the bit where he was inside her. But the best release came after a little anticipation, from the sweet build-up of want and desperation. Her hand drew his zipper down and she pushed the denim from his hips.
When he reached down to free himself from his underwear, she swatted his hand away. “Let me do it. You get to be in charge all day long. It’s my turn.”
The tight black boxer briefs outlined him perfectly. She traced the ridge of his cock throug
h the material from base to tip, her blood pumping fiercely. The sheer virility of him excited her, filling her with potent lust and need.
“I haven’t for a second been fooled into thinking I’m in charge.” His desire-roughened voice sounded like sex itself. “I haven’t got a chance in hell of controlling you.”
She tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt, drawing the fabric up and over his head. His dark eyes bored into hers as her hands raked gentle lines down his chest to the sharp V at his waist. Her nails glinted under the light, bright against his fair skin.
“Do you want to control me?” She cupped him through his last remaining item of clothing.
“No way.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his palm pressed against her cheek. “You’re driving me wild, and I love every goddamn minute of it.”
Dropping to her knees, Rose tugged him free of the briefs and stared at him. He was magnificent in every sense of the word. She ran her hands up and down his thighs, letting the hairs tickle her palms.
The first night they’d slept together, she’d touched him in the semi-darkness, letting him take the reins and allowing the sounds of his pleasure to guide her.
Now she wanted to absorb him through her every sense, memorize the way he looked, the way he moved. The way he tasted.
She braced herself on his hips and lowered her head to his cock. Her tongue darted out to taste him, swiping a bead of pre-cum off his tip. Saltiness hit her tongue and she drew him in farther. She sucked gently, feeling his weight on her tongue, drawing in the scent of earthy maleness.
“Rose.” Her name was half cry, half groan. The sound sent a shiver skating up her spine, power surging through her.
She wrapped her fingers around the base of him, stroking him as she sucked. Her tongue drew a line up the underside of his cock and his hands fisted in her hair. His hold was a little too tight; the tremble in his grasp telling her he was fighting for control.
There would be no control tonight. Tonight he was hers to maneuver, and she’d strip away every last bit of resistance he had.
Cupping his balls with one hand, she sucked him farther inside her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.
“Rose, I...” His thigh muscles twitched beneath her other hand. “I can’t hold...”
He moved slowly, the long slow strokes pushing her as far as she could go. She might’ve been the one on her knees but she had total power in that moment. His hands stroked her head, fingers tangling in her hair. All of a sudden the sound of his orgasm filled her ears. Her name, garbled with utter pleasure, was so loud it blocked everything else out as he shuddered against her.
She stood and he grabbed her, crushing her to his chest, his face buried in her hair. He didn’t say anything, not a single word. But she knew then what they had was more than sex.
Wordlessly, he lifted her and carried her to the bath.
As he lowered her into the water, his eyes never left hers. He placed her into the tub with such reverence, and for some reason, Rose felt exposed, vulnerable.
The power she’d reveled in a moment ago had transferred to him.
Even such a simple movement as stepping into the tub made him look incredible. There was a perfection and economy to his movement, a quiet grace that commanded her attention.
He braced his hands on either side of the tub and the water rose as he lowered himself down. They took up every inch of the small tub, his hulking masculinity jarring in the crisp femininity of the bathroom. But Rose wouldn’t have it any other way. She wouldn’t have him any other way.
He stretched out his hand and she took it, turning so her back rested against his chest, the outside of her thighs touching the inside of his. They sat there for a moment, unmoving. His lips rested against the curved join of her neck and shoulder. His arms encircled her waist.
“That was...incredible,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
Eyes shut, she smiled. “Glad you liked it.”
“How could I not?” He kissed her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t kick you out of my office that day.”
“Kick me out?” She turned to face him. “I wanted to walk out, but you wouldn’t let me. You went into total caveman mode trying to keep me there.”
He laughed, the throaty sound tingling her insides. “I got the impression the kid-glove approach wouldn’t work with you.”
“It wouldn’t have.” Her mouth quirked.
“So I was right to deploy sophisticated caveman tactics.” His fingers moved from her knees to the inside of her thighs, massaging her skin in slow languid movements.
“It made me think you were some roided-up GI Joe wannabe control freak.”
“Yes, I know. You called me as much on the day, remember?”
Her cheeks flushed. She’d been a brat in his office, but her nerves had been frayed. The break-in, the awkward—and at the time unwanted—reconnection with her father hadn’t made it easy for her to trust someone else with her safety.
“Do you still think I’m a wannabe?” His hands inched higher.
“No.” Her body turned to liquid as his fingertips brushed over her sex. “You’re the real deal.”
He chuckled. “That’s more like it.”
As he teased the center of her sex, delving between her folds, she felt him harden against her. Moisture clung to everything in the bathroom. The mirror was fogged with condensation and Rose’s skin glowed from the heat of the water.
“More, Max. I want your fingers inside me.”
* * *
THE WORDS SET fire to his soul. The need to please her consumed him like an Australian bushfire, roaring until his fears were burned to ashes.
He pushed a finger inside her, her sex slick and hotter than the water around them. From this angle, he had to use two hands; one to stroke inside her and the other to glide over her clit. His arms kept her in place as she bucked, her muscles clenching around him. The more he stroked, the farther back against him she pushed until he was so hard he felt as if he was going to burst.
He curled his finger within her, feeling for the bump of her G-spot. When he got the angle right, she cried out, her hips jerking to meet his strokes. Slipping another finger inside, he found the rhythm that would push her to the edge.
“I’m so close, Max. Make me come, please.”
She pulsed around him, the tremors starting slow but building until she quaked in his arms, her muscles gripping his fingers, trying to draw them farther inside her. She shook as an orgasm slammed into her.
All he could do was hold her as the intensity faded.
“Those damn hands,” she muttered. “Don’t you ever damage those things, or I’ll hunt you down.”
She turned to face him, slopping water over the edge of the tub and failing to notice it. Her hair was slicked back, damp. Gorgeous.
“I promise I’ll always look after them.” He held his palms up to her and she pressed her lips to the center of each one.
“Good. They’re magical.” She climbed on top of him, his sex nestled between her thighs.
She rubbed herself against the tip of his cock, drenching him in heat. Her breasts bobbed in front of his face and he caught one in his mouth, sucking a swollen nipple until she hummed in pleasure.
“Condom?” he murmured against her breast.
“I’m on the pill,” she said, kissing his forehead. “And I had a physical when I left London. I’m clean.”
“Me, too, we have regular physicals for work...”
She grasped him in her hands and positioned him at her entrance. Time seemed to suspend itself before she sank down and pushed him deep inside.
“You’re so hot, so...tight.” He grabbed the back of her head and brought her mouth down to his.
It wasn’t a kiss of teasing or exploration
or affection. It was a no-holds-barred, passion-drugged kiss. He forced her lips open and his tongue clashed with hers. Rolling her hips, she met his thrusts forcefully, water splashing over the edge of the bath.
The feeling of her without any barriers was enough to drive him straight to the edge. He wrapped an arm around her waist and crushed her against him. No way was he letting go even for a second.
“Fill me, Max.” Her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire as she ground against him.
She rubbed herself against him, the angle of her hips causing pleasure to shoot through him and his control slipped. He wanted this to last forever, but his orgasm rushed up, fueled by the tremors deep inside Rose as he thrust into her.
The moment she broke he was there with her. Her gasps rang in his ear as he pumped his release into her.
Euphoria washed over him, and Max wondered if he’d ever be able to come back down to earth.
9
SOMEHOW, THEY’D MADE it to her bed. Rose wondered if the feeling of being curved against Max’s chest was nothing but a dream. But the muscles and hair beneath her fingertips felt real. The weight of his thigh over her hip felt real.
“I bet you never thought you’d end up here,” she said, her back flat against his chest while her hand danced across his thigh.
“Nope.” Warmth radiated from him. “You’re not my type.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and the teasing tone in his statement, despite the fact that the words were true.
“You’re hardly my type, either.”
“Ah, yes, you go for the arty types.” His lips pressed into her hair, his hand running up and down her arm.
She grinned. “Right. Not save-the-world types like you.”
“I don’t exactly run around with a cape and wearing my jocks on the outside of my clothing.” The slow drawl of his words was like liquid pleasure running through her veins.
She’d taken another hit of a very addictive substance and it would only be a downward slide from here. Surely there was a twelve-step program for hot Australian men.
A Dangerously Sexy Christmas Page 10
