She opened her mouth, closed it again, then forced herself to speak. “How did you figure all that out?”
“I told you once before, I know you.”
“How?” She needed to know how he’d gotten into her head so easily.
“Because I was you once.” He hooked his arm in hers and led her toward the door.
“Wait. Explain what you mean.”
He paused, leaning one shoulder against the still-closed door. “I will. One day, when you’re ready to really hear me, I’ll explain everything.” And on that cryptic note, he unlocked the door, placed a hand on her back, and led her to the waiting car.
* * *
Lucy stood in her bathroom, dressing to head out for a dinner with Max and Sebastian. But as she put the finishing touches on her makeup, her focus wasn’t on their plans; it was on the sounds coming from the other side of the door. Max had installed a pull-up bar in the bedroom doorway for his workouts, and she heard him grunting on each exhale now.
The man was a sight to behold when he worked out, all tanned skin and muscles glistening with sweat, making her want to plaster herself to his sculpted body, inhale that masculine scent she associated with him, and never let go. She’d gotten used to him going through his daily routine. And wasn’t that the kicker?
Never in her wildest dreams had Lucy thought Max was serious when he’d insisted that, one way or another, they were moving in together. Apparently he hadn’t been kidding, because a month after that fateful night at Glam, they were sharing Gabe’s old apartment. Of course, she could have told him he was crazy, said no, or done any other number of rational things. Instead she’d looked him in the eye and called what she’d thought was his bluff.
“We can go back to my place,” she’d said, too stunned by the fact that he had her all figured out. She was planning on walking away when the restaurant and their time working together was over. He clearly intended to make that as emotionally difficult for her as possible.
She assumed he’d get tired of not being in his own place a lot faster than she’d wear out her welcome at his. She’d been wrong. Thirty days, nights, and counting, and he seemed perfectly content with their new arrangement. And when he’d said he wanted access to her body for the time she’d allotted to them, he’d meant it.
He was a greedy lover. He woke her up with his hands on her body, moving leisurely over her flesh, kneading her breasts, or with his mouth on her sex. And she fell asleep at night exhausted from whatever kind of sex they’d shared, hot, fast, and hard… or slow and methodic lovemaking before he wrapped himself around her and passed out cold.
A girl could get used to his attentiveness in bed and out. And no doubt that was his intention as well. She’d been treated to breakfast in bed, to lunch brought to her at her new office space, to expensive dinners out, and to quick takeout pizza. Not to mention the home-cooked meals. Who knew the man had such talent in the kitchen? Although considering he owned restaurants, she should have realized he’d have culinary ability as well.
Savage in Soho was moving forward at a rapid pace despite some initial glitches. Though Max and Sebastian had approved her designs and she’d been able to order their furniture and décor with a six- to eight-week delivery time, there had been other delays. First had been the issues with the building permits for structural changes Max had filed early on. Somehow the paperwork had been lost, necessitating re-filing. Red tape and bureaucracy were standard in Manhattan, and their start date had to be pushed back weeks. The date was still uncertain as the permits had yet to be approved. Not even Mann and Mann’s contacts had been able to push the paperwork through faster.
To add insult to injury, Sebastian had personal problems to deal with. His ex-girlfriend, Gia Lambert, had been making herself a general nuisance, showing up wherever Sebastian was and driving him insane. Apparently the woman didn’t know how to accept we’re over. Sebastian was supposed to be busy working on the menu, but he claimed Gia had disturbed his artistic sensibilities, and he couldn’t concentrate. His lawyer was supposed to work on getting a restraining order ASAP, and in the meantime, they pushed forward with the plans.
Lucy had gone about organizing her life in New York. Mann and Mann had offered her an associate position, guaranteeing her clients and salary. Though she had family money, she prided herself on working for a living, even if her brother and the family business had provided that income thus far.
A quick knock on the bathroom door brought her out of her musings. “Come on in.”
The door opened, and Max strode in, his upper torso glistening with sweat, the muscles in his chest and arms bulging and more prominent than ever thanks to his recent workout. She couldn’t help but stare, sliding her tongue over her glossed lips in reaction.
“Like what you see, princess?”
“How can I not?” she asked honestly. He was cut on top, his waist trim, and those indentations right above his workout shorts were enough to make a girl insane. “You need to shower or we’re going to be late,” she said, her voice dropping to a husky level.
His golden eyes locked on hers. “Keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it out of here at all.”
At the sound of his deep voice, her nipples hardened and dampness coated her panties, almost as if on cue. “Max,” she said, wanting the word to come out as a warning. Instead it sounded more like a plea.
“Yes?” he asked, stepping closer.
He smelled of sweat and man, and her sex softened even more. “We have to go.”
“Want to know what I’d do to you if we didn’t?”
He walked forward, backing her against the vanity, close enough to tantalize and tease her senses, but not enough to ruin her little black dress with his perspiration.
Though she shouldn’t indulge the predator in him, she couldn’t help wanting to know what he was thinking. “What would you do to me?” she asked, her imagination going wild at the thought of the varied scenarios her mind conjured.
“I’d spin you around,” he said, doing just that until she was facing the mirror.
She gripped the cool granite counter with both hands and waited, her body strung tight.
“I’d lift this little dress up over your sweet ass.”
In an instant, her butt was exposed to the cool air, courtesy of the barely there thong she’d chosen, and her breath deserted her on a rush.
A glance in the mirror showed her face was now flushed darker than the blush she’d applied.
“Then I’d bend you over the counter and rub my palm over your soft cheeks.” Without warning, he pressed against her back, easing her upper body down and her ass up for his viewing pleasure.
He cupped one cheek in his hand, rubbing his calloused palm over her exposed flesh before squeezing so tight she gasped at the first hint of delicious pain, immediately followed by the heated warmth of desire flowing through her veins. She dipped her head and let out a low moan, causing him to repeat the action on her other cheek.
“And then…” The words sounded raw and drawn from deep inside him. “Then I’d fuck you.” He punctuated the words with a slap against her sensitive flesh.
“Oh!” She swallowed the word, her entire body vibrating with need.
“But it wouldn’t be hard and fast,” he said, following up with a strike on her other cheek that stung in the best possible way. “No, I’d take you slow and easy, so you felt every hard inch of my cock as I made you mine.”
Lucy’s mind had gone nearly blank, lost in a foggy haze of desire and need. Her sex pulsed, swelling with the need to be filled and used.
“Unfortunately, as you pointed out, we don’t have time.” He yanked her dress down, covering her sore behind and gently rubbing his hand over her now hidden ass.
“Max!” Groaning in disappointment and frustration, she spun around, only to glance down and find he was in no better shape than she was.
His thick erection tented his workout shorts, looking extremely uncomfortable behind t
he fabric.
“We can be late,” she offered, no longer caring if they stood Sebastian up for dinner.
He shook his head, his jaw tight. “Wish we could, but he made reservations. You know how Sebastian is. He used his name and clout to get the best seat in the house. He wants to see and be seen.”
“He wants people to bow and kiss his feet and tell him how they can’t wait for his restaurant to open to the public. Got it,” Lucy said, knowing Sebastian’s cocky and slightly narcissistic side would be on full display.
“Right. And much as I’d rather skip it in favor of staying home with you, it’ll be good publicity for us to be out with him.”
She nodded in understanding. “But you didn’t need to get me all worked up beforehand,” she said, knowing full well she was pouting because he’d left her wanting. He hadn’t even given her a good orgasm to hold her over.
“Yeah. I did. Because I wanted your mind on one thing only while we’re out tonight.”
“And what would that be?” she asked, although she already knew.
“Me.”
The one consolation she had was that while she was thinking of all the naughty things he’d do to her later, when they got home, he’d be thinking about burying himself inside her too.
Turning away, she picked up a tube and swiped on some lip gloss, hoping she could fix her makeup so no one else knew she was sex-deprived and horny as hell.
* * *
Max had a damned hard time concentrating on dinner or Sebastian and their prime table when he was sporting a hard-on thanks to his earlier games in the bathroom. He wished he’d finished what he’d started. Instead both he and Lucy were suffering. The flush heightening her cheeks and the way she squirmed in her seat told him that.
He turned his attention to his chef, who’d not only secured the table but who’d chosen his seat facing out so he could meet and greet every famous person who walked by and some who weren’t. Thanks to the man’s stint on reality television and the fact that social media had turned him into a much-loved familiar face and name, most people were thrilled to shake Sebastian’s hand and have a few words too. But every compliment went to his head, and his ego was big enough. Especially since the chef was having trouble creating the menu he’d sworn would come easily.
Blaming his ex-girlfriend wasn’t cutting it anymore either. Sebastian needed to focus on business and not his celebrity status, a conversation Max planned to have with him once they got through tonight.
And since despite her sexual frustration, Lucy seemed to be enjoying the evening, laughing and whispering her opinions on the tacky décor, Max decided not to worry about work for the time being. Instead he marveled at the amazing fact that he’d been living with Lucy for the last month.
He hadn’t planned on moving in with her. Hell, he’d spouted the words in a frantic attempt to keep her close, knowing that if she had her way, she’d sleep with him at night and keep him at a distance all day. He couldn’t allow her to be in charge of their relationship that way. Once he’d suggested it, he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to agree. But she had.
And it had taken a lot of work—pleasurable exertions, to be sure—for him to get her to a place where she’d relaxed and enjoyed them being together, and not just when they were in bed. It was the only way he could think of to bind her to him in ways that went beyond sex. Ways that she was inherently and desperately afraid of feeling. He definitely liked where they were now, but he wasn’t fooled and knew they had challenges ahead.
She groaned at something Sebastian said, the sound bringing Max’s focus back to the present.
“Oh shit,” Sebastian suddenly muttered.
“What is it?” Max asked.
“Look who’s here.” The other man tipped his head toward a crowd of people, and Max caught sight of Sebastian’s cooking show competitor, Anthony Abbadon, walking toward their table.
“Behave,” Max said under his breath as Anthony reached them.
And if he thought Sebastian played star to the hilt, Anthony was a supreme diva. Where Sebastian wore khakis and loafers, Anthony was slicker, wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, his blond hair smoothed back with gel.
“Sebastian, my friend, it’s so good to see you!” Anthony walked over and slapped Sebastian on the back.
The two men traded pleasantries through gritted teeth. In public they were playing nice, but clearly there was no love lost.
According to Sebastian’s account, Anthony resented how much the audience and social media loved Sebastian. And Sebastian had very much wanted to win the show, the money, and the job in New York. That he now would have his own kitchen and restaurant in Soho didn’t negate the sting of losing. He felt like he’d been humiliated in public by Anthony, who, rumor had it, had paid off one of the judges. Nobody could prove a thing. Which left the two men at odds, opening restaurants in the same city. The ultimate competition.
“And who is this lovely lady?” Anthony asked, his smarmy-eyed gaze zeroing in on Lucy.
Now Max’s hackles rose.
“Lucy Dare” she said, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Anthony slid his hand over hers and held on. “Such a beautiful woman. You couldn’t possibly be with Sebastian.” He dropped the insult with a slick smile and enough sweetness toward Lucy he could turn to Max with a grin. “You know I’m kidding.”
Sebastian visibly vibrated with anger.
And Max spoke up as soon as the other man shut his arrogant mouth. “Actually she’s with me,” Max said, pulling Lucy off of her seat and into the protection of his body.
Lucy stiffened, obviously surprised, but she made no move to edge away from his embrace.
Anthony’s smile dimmed as he took in Max’s proprietary stance, and to his surprise, he took a step back. “I hear you boys are having some permit issues, and it’s holding up construction on your restaurant.”
“You heard wrong,” Sebastian said, lying. But Max was glad he wasn’t giving anything away to the competition.
“We’re doing just fine,” Max added.
“How about you worry about your own job and restaurant,” Sebastian said, no longer feigning friendliness. “And keep your nose out of mine.”
Meanwhile, Lucy snuggled in closer, and Max was more than ready to get the hell out of there and go home to finish what he’d started.
Chapter Eight
Lucy finished up a busy day at work, marveling at how much her life had changed. Another four weeks had passed since she’d moved to New York. She sat at a big desk in her own office in Midtown Manhattan with its own sitting area. She’d even begun to decorate it and make it feel like hers, adding her favorite O’Keefe paintings and bright splashes of color, both in the pillows on the black leather sofa and chairs and the Orrefors vase and silk flowers in the center of the table. If a client came in, they would definitely sense her style.
As for Max and Sebastian, construction at the restaurant was well under way, and she had a small roster of her own clients at the firm already. She fit in well with the architects and designers there, met them for drinks, and worked on joint presentations as if she’d been there for years, instead of only two months.
Her life in New York was busy. It was full and fun. Everything she hadn’t had in L.A., including and especially family. On Sunday they were due to head over to Amanda and Decklan’s apartment, and Lucy was excited. Although she’d seen Gabe, Isabelle, and Noah, Decklan and Amanda had been pretty much secluded since the wedding. Amanda claimed to have a stomach virus that just wouldn’t go away. Lucy had a hunch it was more than that, and she was waiting for them to break the happy news. She just wished she was happier herself.
Oh, she was thrilled that her brothers were expanding their families. There was just that little voice inside her, the one she lived with, that told her nothing good lasted forever. That voice hadn’t been around when her parents were alive. When Lucy was younger, she’d been much more easygoing and caref
ree. Nothing had bothered her, and why should it have? She’d been fortunate enough to have parents who loved her, brothers who looked out for her, and they didn’t want for anything. But Lucy had taken everything for granted, including and most especially life itself.
Then, in an instant, her sense of safety and security were gone. Her parents, a memory. Her brothers had done their best to cushion the blow, but they couldn’t minimize the loss of their parents or replace them, no matter how hard they’d tried or how much they loved her. Ever since, she’d anticipated bad news and loss, living life on the edge instead of fully immersing herself and being involved. This time back in New York was the closest she’d come to normal.
And she didn’t trust it. She was waiting for the other proverbial shoe to fall. Yet every move she’d made in the last month had brought her closer to Max, bound them even more emotionally. He seemed to understand her. And maybe he did, considering he’d lost his wife the same way.
If she wanted to get inside his head too, all she had to do was ask him to explain. But that would bring them even closer, bind them more emotionally.
How much closer could you get? a little voice in her head mocked. She was already in so deep with the man. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to change a thing. Not when they had a built-in expiration date anyway. When Savage in SoHo opened, Lucy and Max were over.
* * *
Max sat in the family room of Decklan and Amanda’s one-bedroom apartment that Decklan had rented before he’d met his wife. Lucy had decorated for her brother and Amanda, choosing light, soothing colors that suited Amanda’s personality. The room was small for a family gathering, but it was their home, and they were obviously happy.
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