by Aria Cole
“What are you doing here?” I whispered then chanced a glance behind me to catch Maxwell digging through my sparse fridge.
I slipped out into the hallway and pulled the warm box of pizza from the man’s hand. A man I’d grown up with. A man who’d always taken an unnatural interest in me and my father’s affairs. Exactly the problem I’d been trying to escape.
“He needs you.” Tony Scardelli’s gruff voice brought me right back to the outskirts of Boston, where Italian accents prevailed and a gleam in the eye and scars on fists were the norm.
“I can’t help him, not anymore. I don’t have anything.” I gestured to the dingy living arrangements I’d found myself in, not that they were much nicer than where I’d come from.
“You’ve got to find it, sweetie, or Jax will have his other eye.” Tony’s rough palm cupped my jaw, his sinister tone lacing shooting fear from my head to the tips of my toes.
“His other…?”
I’d left weeks ago. Dropped everything I owned and walked away after my father’s most recent gang of thugs had shown up on my doorstep and robbed me of the few valuable things I’d owned, including a diamond-and-pearl necklace from my mother. The only thing I’d had left of hers since she’d died. My father had run our family into the ground on numerous occasions to the tune of hundreds upon thousands of dollars over the years. On more than one occasion, he’d made money, overspent with luxury homes and yachts, only to have it all repossessed only a few years later. And here he was, my mother long gone, and I was meant to get roughed up to pay his debts.
“They took his eye last Friday night. I guess I thought you knew. Had a bitch of a time finding ya. Your dad said you went to camp up around here as a kid, so I figured it was as good a shot as any. Point is…” His gaze settled on mine as I heard a chair scrape across the floor in my apartment, reminding me of the big man eating up all the sexual energy in my place.
“Look, I’m sorry. You know I am. If I had it, I’m sure I would make the foolish decision and give it all to him, but I don’t have a cent. I’m working part-time at the library just to make rent here. You have to leave.”
I pushed at his big chest just as the door swung open and Maxwell stepped into the hallway, a piercing look in his eyes.
“Got another friend?” His dark gaze turned to mine and nearly shook me to my core. He was scary—like, really scary—when he gave that look. I was learning that quickly.
“Just leaving,” Tony muttered, not breaking eye contact with me. “Two weeks, sweetie. They’re giving him two weeks to make it right.” His eyes flashed to Maxwell’s. “I’ll be in touch. Enjoy the pizza.” He started tramping back down the stairs.
“Wait!” I called and thrust the pizza box into Maxwell’s hands before running after Tony. He was already out the door by the time I got to the foot of the stairs.
“Elle!” Maxwell’s deep boom sounded behind me and nearly rooted me to my spot.
My eyes froze on Tony’s, and with my hands trembling, I begged, “Please don’t tell him where I am. Please.” Maxwell’s palm gripped my elbow and pulled me back against his chest.
“Time for you to go,” he growled at Tony before slamming the entry door and hauling me back up the stairs to my apartment.
When I reached the landing, I saw the box of pizza lying in the corner where he’d dropped it to chase me down the stairs. He really did care about me. The thought warmed the chilled chambers of my heart.
“What the fuck was that about?” Maxwell yanked me into my apartment before I pulled from his grip and darted for the pizza box.
“I’m hungry.” I shrugged when I sauntered back in, determined to stay levelheaded. He might have been my new employer, but that did not give him the right to nose around in my business. “And those are family matters.” I tossed the box on the counter and opened it, then I thought better when I saw the cheesy ooze stuck across the top of the box. I turned on him, prepared to read him my own mini riot act. “You ruined my pizza!”
“Fuck the pizza.” He looked furious, raging mad, and barely containable. His fists clenched at his sides, shoulders bunched and tight with anxiety. The hard set of his shadowed jawline and the clean cut of his dark hair contrasted with that angry slash of scar tissue decorating his cheekbone. “I’ll take you out for a proper dinner once you tell me what the fuck is going on. No more bullshit.”
He advanced a few steps, closing the space between us. His jaw twisted with anger, having that effect down low in my belly that’d only ever come from him.
“It’s not your business; it’s under control. I’m sure Tony won’t be up here again.” I tried to make light of the subject as I pulled a hunk of cheese off the pizza and plopped it into my mouth.
“Bullshit,” he grit and advanced another step. “Sure you wanna lie to me?” His voice threaded fear through my veins.
“I’m not lying, but we only just met. I have a right—”
“Your rights mean shit to me. You are the only thing that means something, and it seems like you’ve got yourself in a little trouble. Give a man a chance to save a damsel before you get all upset.” He finally reached me, and his hands connected with my skin, running up my arms and squeezing my biceps. Jesus, he took my breath away.
“Oo-okay,” I uttered, more flabbergasted and turned on than anything else. “My dad has found himself in debt with some very bad men. They show up every once in a while for a shakedown, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. I grew up with most of those guys anyway.”
“Loan sharks? You grew up with loan sharks? What kinda shit is your dad in?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “How much?”
“What?” I flubbed before shrugging. “I don’t know the number this time. I can’t pay it, so why concern myself with it? It’s one of the reasons I left…” I turned my eyes to the window overlooking the small back alley. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just took the next train out of town.” I shrugged, feeling as though I’d maybe already said too much.
The silence stretched long between us. When I looked back at him, his eyes narrowed before they flicked around my apartment then crawled up my body as if he were warring with himself over a decision that he needed to make.
“Elle?” His voice laced with fear or anger, I couldn’t quite tell. It had the effect of being toe-curling and chilling all at once. “What made you step into my library?”
Chapter Nine
Maxwell
I gripped her creamy elbows in my roughened hands, the dark to her light, the hard to her soft, as one thought played in my head on repeat. One sad fucking thought that I’d been haunted by too many times to count.
She knew who I was before she stepped into my library.
I’d thought since she was the new girl in town, I was safe, could start fresh with a clean slate and a fully stacked deck in my favor, but this evening’s revelations had upset that balance.
“What made you step into my library yesterday?” I ground through my teeth, the only conclusion obsessing my thoughts.
“I love books, and I was desperate for a job,” she uttered with a confused frown.
Could I trust her? Did I believe her? “How long were you in town before that?”
“Not even a week.”
A week. Definitely enough time to hear a few things in this backwoods town where everyone knew everything and made no bones about talking about it. To anyone. Especially about the latest tragedy to rock this town’s long history.
I sighed and pushed a hand through my hair, giving it a rough tug to will myself back into the here and now. A growl escaped as my racing thoughts calmed and I reminded myself that I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. I couldn’t treat everyone like a monster out to get me. That would leave me living in fear, and in some ways, I felt as though I’d already been doing that for thirty-one years.
I let her go. “You need to eat.”
“Actually, I’m good right here. I think it’s time you head home. I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
Her soft eyes stole a glance at mine and softened my rusted edges instantly. My body relaxed as I gazed down at her, eating up her curves and creamy skin.
Cool your shit, Maxwell. She’s a woman, not a monster. Try to be softer with her. Keep in mind that she’s young, impressionable, and much more innocent than you. I sighed and ran a hand through my twisted locks again before backing away. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her.
“You still need to eat.” I tossed the mangled pizza box in the trash. “And I owe you a dinner.” I found sugarcoating my words was much harder than I’d anticipated.
When she didn’t reply, I turned to find her eyes wide, the white cotton of her tank stretching across full tits, leaving me hungry for her skin on mine again. My dick pounded, reminding me how much I wanted her, wanted to protect her and shield her, keep her locked up in my own room to play with as I pleased and smother with love and books.
“Really, I’m fine, Maxwell. It’s late. I’m just going to bed—”
“The hell you are.”
I advanced on her and crushed the hem of her shirt in my palms, pulling her to me and crashing my lips down on hers. My tongue twisted and invaded her delicate mouth, the hot skin of her lips and the soft scent of her hair wafting through my senses like cotton candy on a summer day. Addictive and so, so sweet.
Her palms circled my neck, her fingers threading into my hair as she pulled and sent small licks of pain shooting through my system, adding to the raw animal instinct her body drove me to.
“You look really fucking good in that tiny tank top, but I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.” I pulled away and landed a swift smack on the round curve of her ass.
“You just come in here and think—”
“Enough of the feminist bit. Get dressed and let me take you somewhere nice to eat.” I softened my expression, trying to remember that I didn’t want to run her away.
A frown fell on her lips before her eyes drifted to her own body and back to my eyes before settling on my lips. I hoped she was remembering the feeling of them pressed to her body. I knew I was.
“Let’s get going.” I leaned in, hovering at her ear to make sure the cool touch of my breath brushed her hot, velvet skin. “I want another taste of you tonight.”
She’d better be along for the ride without giving me hell, but then again, I did like the challenge of her. I smiled before spinning her toward the hallway and giving her a gentle shove, then I watched her sexy form sway as she retreated down the hallway to her room.
I thought about telling her to bring a change of clothes, but I thought better of it. I liked her better naked anyway.
I took her to a small cafe off Main Street that had killer steaks and burgers. That was all they did—red meat—and in this vegan-loving neck of the woods, I loved them for it. We ate in a corner booth, the two of us sidled up next to each other amidst the busy and small but nice dining room. Full of locals whose eyes had darted up when we walked in, casting judgment when we sat down. “That’s Maxwell Black,” I imagined them thinking. I probably looked older to most of them since they hadn’t seen me in the four years since… then.
I pushed aside my anxiety, thinking I very well might have a phobia of public places, and clenched my hand tighter at Elle’s thigh before popping another perfectly crisped fry into my mouth.
“My age doesn’t bother you?”
Her question startled me.
“Wasn’t expecting that.” I glanced at the few bodies surrounding us, hoping they hadn’t heard her. “And why would it?”
“Well, I’m younger than you…” Her large, round eyes peered up at me.
Jesus, she was so naturally stunning—wait. Her age? “We can’t be too far apart. How old are you?”
She took a slow drink from her bottle of beer before she swallowed and spoke. “Twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one?” I nearly choked on my own swallow of beer. “You’re only twenty-one?”
“It won’t make it any less true the more times you say it,” she teased. “How old are you anyway?”
“Geez.” I ran a palm through my locks, thinking how I’d already had my dick between her legs and tasted her. Jesus, she’s just out of high school.
“Maxwell?” Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced at her. “How old are you?”
I sighed, the little bastard in my head telling me to lie. But I couldn't do it, not to her. “Thirty-one.”
She nodded once, twice, then smiled at the waiter when he refilled our drinks.
“Anything else I can get you?” he asked.
Elle was about to answer, a genuine smile on her face.
“Privacy,” I bellowed.
The waiter’s eyes widened before he scurried away.
“You didn’t have to scare him,” Elle commented before digging into the food.
“How can you be so calm? Jesus, I nearly fucked you on my desk. Why didn’t you tell me you were only twenty-one?” I clasped her wrist, stopping her from taking another bite.
Her eyes flashed to mine before back to the food. “It’s not that far apart.” She shrugged then popped a bite into her mouth.
“Not that far? Ten years seems pretty far to me.” I’d never felt so goddamn old as I did sitting next to her in all her pretty, youthful glory. Jesus, she was beautiful. Why was she even here with me? The angry bastard with the nasty scar? I didn’t deserve her.
“Hey, chill out.” She plucked a morsel from the plate and held it out for me.
I snagged it between my teeth and chewed, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes brightened with amusement as she watched me, her full lips tipped in a Cheshire grin.
“Fine. But maybe don’t tell anyone your age for now,” I said through my teeth before tightening my palm at her thigh again.
A soft chuckle fell from her lips. “Who would I tell? You’re my only friend.” Her palm covered my hand as she threaded her fingers through mine. “What’s with the hands on me all the time thing, anyway?” Elle took another sip from her beer bottle.
A girl who drank beer—the walking embodiment of a man’s dream come true. She was so cool, calm, and collected. I could certainly take a play or two from her book.
“Let’s them know you’re mine,” I said, still uncomfortable with the fact that she was so much younger than me.
She almost spit out her beer with her chuckle. “Yours? That’s a little soon, don’t you think?”
“Not when you know,” I answered. Silence fell between us, and I knew her mind was probably on fire with thoughts again. “Listen, I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you. This shows them not to fuck with my property.” I squeezed her thigh, thinking I’d explained myself sufficiently.
“Your property?” Elle pushed away her half-eaten plate of food before downing the rest of her bottle. “Your property?”
She leapt from her seat, narrowing her eyes at me as she snagged her purse and sped through the restaurant.
Oh shit.
“Elle!” I hollered, pushing the table across noisy tile when I stood hastily. “Elle!”
I took long strides out the door, feeling the burn of judgment from everyone in that small place. Fuck this. This was why I didn’t go out in public.
“Goddammit, slow down!”
Down the sidewalk, she clutched her purse and leveled me with a glare. Jesus Christ, this woman was going to be the death of me.
“Don’t run from me like that again, hear me?” I cupped her elbow and pressed her body against the cool brick of the building. “You are mine.” I ran my nose up the curve of her neck and nipped at her soft earlobe. “Even if you don’t know it yet, I can feel it.”
I thrust my hands into her mass of wild waves, pulling her head to mine and fucking her with my tongue. She returned the gesture with more ferocity than she’d shown before. I yanked at both of her thighs and pulled her limbs around my waist, angling her against the wall, my
cock nestled right between her legs, where he liked being.
“I’m not yours,” she uttered in protest before she nibbled my bottom lip.
“The fuck you aren’t.” I gripped at one thigh, my other hand trailing between us to find the slick skin under her skirt and beneath her panties. “And this”—I pulled my thumb through the silky-hot flame of her pussy and brought it up to my mouth, letting her arousal glisten in front of her eyes—“proves you’re a liar.”
I sucked her sweet honeysuckle musk off my thumb then pulled her lips to mine again, crushing her with bruising force. I tasted her but was desperate for more. Always desperate for more when it came to sweet Elle.
Chapter Ten
Elle
With trepidation, I followed him up the stairs to his top-floor apartment. Not because I didn’t want to be here. Oh, I badly wanted to be here, but I was terrified of what he would do next. Take me into his bedroom? Woo me with wine and candles or push me up against the wall and growl at me? If I were being totally honest with myself, I kind of wanted both.
My eyes cast toward the virile man climbing the stairs ahead of me. I noticed the shined leather of his shoes, the crisp cut of his slacks that hugged the round globes of his muscled ass so well. The way he wore a crisp white shirt every day, tucked in neatly and opened an extra button at the collar, a classic vest completing his rogue librarian uniform. He looked every part the Renaissance man on the outside, but once he opened his mouth, rolled up his sleeves to reveal the rippled forearms, the slick hair, and that scar… where had that scar come from?
“Maxwell?” I said when I reached the top of the steps.
He sauntered across the room, then a low lamp flicked on, illuminating the small but tidy space. It looked like a bachelor pad, lacking that certain feminine touch.
“Can I get you a drink?” He turned, as if in answer.
I shook my head, thinking it’d be better if I were clearheaded in this situation. I was drunk enough on Maxwell’s pheromones.
