The Attraction Equation (Love Undercover)

by Scott, Kadie

  Stubborn ass. “I don’t believe you.”

  With their bodies mere inches apart, his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m an FBI agent,” he growled through clenched teeth, tossing the words at her like a challenge. “I’m trained to make you believe whatever I want you to believe.”

  Gina jerked so abruptly, Max chuckled.

  Not a nice chuckle, though. He’d slammed a wall down between them. “This started out as a fake relationship, and it got physical. That’s all it can be.”

  Gina blinked, still trying to absorb what he’d just said. Only, there was something vulnerable in his gaze. He wanted her to believe him, believe that he was this closed off asshole, but she just didn’t. Time to call his bluff, because the connection they had when they made love was more than just physical, and she’d damn well prove that to him.

  “Fine,” she said.

  He paused. “Fine?”

  She gave a casual shrug, the performance of a lifetime. “We stick to the deal we had, and if physical is still on the table, I’m game if you are.”

  Before she could say or do anything else, Max’s expression shifted from closed off to sizzling. He swooped in to kiss her. Not long, slow kisses, but hard and urgent. All about proving a point. This was just physical. And she couldn’t deny that the chemistry between them was off the charts. Hell, her brain was fuzzy as her body took over, wanting everything he could give her.

  With a groan, he dropped to his knees, pushing up her top to kiss her breasts.

  Gentle urgency. She’d never experienced anything like it, but the attention he devoted to her breasts had Gina trembling, her breath panting out of her in bursts. Then he started kissing his way down her tummy, circling her bellybutton with his tongue and nipping at her hips.

  Forget just sex. This went deeper between them, she knew it did. She’d show him the difference between fucking and connecting on a deeper level, and maybe tease them both at the same time.

  Before he could go lower, she put her hands on his head, applying a small amount of pressure to stop him. Max glanced up, and she almost melted in a puddle at the heat in his eyes.

  Gina cleared her throat. “You…” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat again. “You want to go further? I’m game, but I need more.”

  The heat continued to blaze at her even as he scowled.

  She ignored his frustration. And hers. “So, what do you do for the FBI? Are you some sort of assassin? Is that why you’re so meticulous?”

  Max laughed—almost as if he couldn’t help himself—his expression lightening from a scowl to something much more dangerous to her heart, especially when his eyes still burned. “Don’t believe all the movies,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m a numbers guy—finance, like I said, but using those skills to investigate people doing bad things with money. Meticulous kind of comes with the job, and as you so bluntly pointed out, I’m uniquely qualified in that department.”

  “So, James Bond with numbers.” Ha! She’d been right.

  “Something like that,” he murmured, but his focus was on her body now.

  He slipped her booty shorts and panties off, the Promised Land in sight. Her flesh fluttered as his warm breath teased the sensitive juncture of her thighs. Gina still managed to shove her screaming body’s needs aside. She slipped a hand between them, stopping him yet again when he was only a hair’s breadth from giving her what she was sure would be the hottest oral sex she’d ever had in her life.

  “Tell me about your childhood.”

  …

  Max let his head fall forward, resting on her belly, and released a groan. She was killing him. But he’d given up trying to hold out.

  “Not much to tell. My parents were high school sweethearts, like I said. Dad’s in finance as well, in the city. Given Dad’s job, he wasn’t around a ton, but tried to make it to games and important things. Mom stayed at home and raised us. Other than the matchmaking habit she can’t break, she’s wonderful. They both are.”

  Max moved his hands up her legs, starting at her ankles, pausing at the sensitive spot behind her knees, enjoying the silky-smooth skin under his fingertips. But she held her hand in place.

  Max scoured his brain for any other details he could share quickly that would satisfy Gina’s sudden insistence on getting to know him. “I was always good at math and good with money, like Dad.”

  He trailed his hands up the outside of her thighs and around to the insides, her muscles trembling under his touch, where he put the slightest pressure, and grinned when she not only parted those long legs for him, but gasped, even though he didn’t touch her more. Yet. The sound sizzled down his spine and his cock jumped.

  Her hand stayed firmly, frustratingly in place.

  What else could he tell her?

  “We got to keep any college money left over after school. I got lucky investing my remaining college fund, the markets were up, and that helped me buy this apartment.”

  No way could he afford it on what the government paid him. They did adjust for cost of living in New York, but that wouldn’t have got him here.

  Finally, Gina must’ve been satisfied, because she pulled her hand back.

  Story over, he did what he’d been dying to do. He slid his fingers inside her, groaning at how wet she was for him. With colossal control, he managed to stop and caught her fevered gaze with his own.

  “Is that enough info for now?” Teasing could go both ways.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Max grinned. With a groan he delved into her with his tongue, her subtle flavor bursting on his taste buds. Gina shuddered, and he smiled, then repeated the action, never lingering on that bundle of nerves, brushing across it enough to make her moan.

  “Max, please,” she hissed, threading eager fingers through his hair to hold him to her.

  At the request, or command, he swirled his tongue around, stroking her. At the same time, he pumped his fingers in a slow, sensuous imitation of what he’d shortly be doing with his cock.

  She rocked her body, angling her hips for more with each pump, each swipe of his tongue. Her response drove his own need, had him aching for her to the point of pain. First, though, he’d give her this. Give them both this.

  Her breath started to hitch in her throat with each gasp and whimper, and Max knew she was close. He increased the urgency, the speed.

  The sounds coming from her were faster now, in time to his fingers.

  He clamped his lips around her and sucked. Gina screamed his name as her inner muscles contracted around his seeking fingers. Her hands gripped his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt, but he didn’t give a damn. He continued to touch her as the orgasm crashed through her body, not stopping until he heard that sigh. The one that told him her body was spent.

  Max caught Gina as her knees buckled and she collapsed over him. He gently laid her on the mat beside him, paused to grab his wallet and the condom inside, thankful he brought it, then joined her, kissing her lips and enjoying her smile. Then he shucked his shirt and shorts in record speed and sheathed himself. Still seated, he picked Gina up and cradled her for a minute, giving her body a chance to calm before he started all over.

  She felt right in his arms.

  After all that talk of this just being physical, he couldn’t deny the connection. Sharing things that only those closest to him, which pretty much meant just Drew and his family, ever got to know…he felt as though he was swimming in a rough ocean without a raft. Exposed and vulnerable, and not just physically.

  Tension started creeping into his shoulders. What was he doing?

  She nestled into him. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open up.”

  Was the woman a mind reader? How had she known that’s what he was thinking? Worse, why did he suddenly feel like the rough seas calmed and he had a life raft now? Like she’d keep him from drowning.

  Unable to remotely put his scrambled-up thoughts in any semblance of an order,
he did the next best thing and listened to his clamoring body. His balls ached from want of release.

  Without a word, he situated Gina so she was straddling his lap. The languor disappeared from her eyes, replaced by a need that washed over him and had him even harder. Positioning her above him, he gripped her hips and eased her down his body.

  Gina tossed her head back with a low moan, thrusting her breasts forward. He sucked a berry-pink nipple into his mouth and tugged lightly on it with his teeth. But his dick demanded his fair share of attention, pulsing inside her with his need to release. Realizing he didn’t have enough leverage, Max flipped them so Gina lay on her back. He thrust into her body, reveling in every sensation overloading his body.

  He could get addicted to her. Not just her body and how his responded—hell, how he craved her now—but he could get addicted to her in his life. Just her.

  His life—with his schedule, and his plans, and his neat rows and columns—was crumbling around him because of this chaotic, unpredictable woman. No way would he ever have fucked a woman in this gym in the middle of the night and risked getting caught and losing his apartment.

  Worse, his lack of control might be seriously screwing with his mind, but suddenly, he couldn’t help but wish this was his life.

  That scared the hell out of him, more than any thought or action up to this point.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gina stuffed the last piece of clothing into one of Sabrina’s extra suitcases. No way was she bringing her ratty bag that she moved around with to Max’s parents’ house. While he hadn’t said it in so many words, his comments about his dad’s job and his college fund left her with the strong impression that Max’s family was wealthy.

  Best to make a good impression off the bat with a suitcase not bought secondhand then traipsed all over New York with each of her moves.

  She glanced at T-Bone, who lay curled up on the bed beside her bag. “Did I forget anything?”

  He raised his head, as if double-checking for her, and she chuckled. She was sure she hadn’t. Taking a leaf out of Max’s book, she’d made a list to pack with. She’d even shown it to him, thinking he’d laugh or at least smile at how he’d impacted her life in some small way. He’d just nodded, though.

  After that night in the gym he’d been…different. Not closed off necessarily. Unavailable, definitely. He’d claimed a lot of work kept him busy, but a small voice of doubt had her wondering if he’d been avoiding her.

  He couldn’t avoid her now, though.

  Despite her confidence in her handy checklist, Gina ran a critical eye over it once again. What if his family hated her? What if she’d chosen inappropriate clothes? Again, she reconsidered her outfit. Max had said casual, but she’d lay ten-to-one odds he was wearing one of his suits. She’d opted for soft gray slacks that fit her beautifully, paired with a red V-necked sweater that was festive and sexy, but not too sexy. But what if they thought her outfit was too sexy?

  Of course they won’t, you nut. She gave herself a mental shake.

  One thing she’d learned after moving from school to school in neighborhoods all over New York—ranging from the ultra-rich to barely able to keep food on the table and everything in between—was how to become a chameleon and fit in. Regardless of if his parents were wealthy but down-to-earth types or super snobs, she could act the part. She wouldn’t embarrass him.

  But these people were Max’s family. Obviously, they were important to him. She wanted to like them…and she wanted them to like her. Gina ran a hand over her face, then swore, knowing she’d probably smeared her lipstick. Damn she was a nervous wreck. No two ways about it.

  Why did meeting Max’s family now feel like a way bigger deal than some stupid bargain she’d been blackmailed into weeks ago?

  After fixing her lipstick, she eyed the pile of presents to go down to the car. Including T-Bone, of course. All his paraphernalia—bowls, food, bed, etc.—ready and waiting. She was going to miss the little mutt, even though she knew Mateo would love him as much as she did. However, over the course of the last month, T-Bone had become…hers.

  Just like Max.

  Quit that! She straightened her shoulders and pushed both thoughts away. She’d visit T-Bone often. Max…that was another matter left for after the holidays, after the farce, which no longer seemed like farce to her, was officially over.

  “Come on,” she said as she gathered T-Bone up. “Let’s go see if Max is ready for us.”

  She snagged a box she’d wrapped herself, having a bit of fun. She’d gone with blues and silvers, but wrapped it so the gift resembled a tuxedo front, with the bow at the top, a swath of silver “shirt” down the middle of the darker blue overall wrapping, and silver buttons down the middle. Her gifts for his family and two more for him for Christmas Eve were also wrapped in her professional style. This one, though, she wanted to give him before they left.

  After a quick peek to be sure no one would spot T-Bone, Gina snuck down the hall and knocked on Max’s door.

  He opened it with a serious expression, not a scowl exactly, but not a happy face, either. With effort, Gina ignored the dread sinking in her stomach and inched past him into the apartment. When he didn’t close the door, she nudged it shut.

  “Ready to go?” she asked.

  “Not quite.” His voice was strained.

  Gina took a mental step back. Why did he suddenly look like the Grinch before his heart grew? While he’d been a little tenser than usual, she’d chalked it up to the holiday and upcoming visit to his parents, but this… This felt like something else.

  Hoping to cheer him up, she held out her gift for him. “Merry early Christmas!”

  Max eyed the box. “I’m still packing.”

  Gina shoved her disappointment down deep, along with the lingering dread that something serious was wrong. Maybe the trip had him dialed up another fifty notches?

  She shook the box in her hand. “You might want to pack this, too,” she hinted.

  Max grumbled under his breath as he reached for the gift. His gaze kept darting down the hall toward his bedroom. Gina relaxed a tiny bit, figuring his mood was obviously tied to packing for the trip. Mental note, Max was a grumpy packer.

  At least he bothered to glance at the wrapping, his tight lips quirking. “Your handy work?” he asked, holding it up.

  Gina grinned. “Not bad, right? I tried to do a manly wrapping job for you.”

  He didn’t comment as he ripped into the paper.

  She watched, amusement kicking in. “I sort of expected you to be a careful unwrapper, trying to save the paper.”

  He shook his head without looking up. In the box, he found a sweater she’d splurged on as a Christmas gift for him—navy to bring out his eyes, with a slight V at the neck.

  He just stared at it.

  “I thought you could wear it today, instead of another of your usual suits.” She softened the sting of her words with another grin. She actually loved the suits because they were Max. Plus he looked hot in them with those broad shoulders.

  “So, we’re back to fixing me, huh?” His words came out low, and not angry exactly, more…

  She couldn’t tell what the emotion was in his voice. Or in his expression for that matter, as he glanced up, an eyebrow raised. She did know that she would like to take a hammer and chisel to the wall he’d thrown up between them.

  “I don’t want to fix you, but this girlfriend thing”—she waved a hand between them—“is your idea to get your family off your back. I was thinking of that.”

  “And a new look accomplishes that?” Skepticism twisted his lips.

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “Because it’s a new look.” Irritation spiked in her chest and in her voice. “They’ll say something about the sweater being a change, and you’ll say I bought it for you, and the illusion of us dating will be…bolstered.”

  “You spent a lot of your Christmas money, that you practically dropped into bed exhausted each night over the last
few weeks to earn, on a nice sweater for me so that our…illusion…would work?”

  Gina crossed her arms, mimicked his expression, and raised her own sarcastic eyebrow. “I don’t know, Max. Maybe I thought you’d like a nice sweater as a gift. It’s the same brand as your suits, so I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a departure.”

  He stared, then seemed to shake himself and nodded. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  Gina’s stomach hollowed out. He’d said thank you and backed off a bit, but she could still see the tension radiating off those stiffly held shoulders.

  “You’re welcome.” She knew when to back off. She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her either way.

  Max turned and headed back to his room. She followed him, and T-Bone followed both of them, hopping around Max’s feet, obviously deciding Max had waited long enough to greet him, putting his paws up on his legs.

  “T-Bone,” Max said. “Down.”

  Gina picked the dog up. “He just wants you to pet him.”

  “I’m trying to get packed.”

  “Would you like help?” She cast her gaze over his shoulder into his bedroom where his suitcase sat on the bed, clothes folded neatly beside it in rows. What could be so complicated?

  “No, thanks. I think I’ve got this.”

  Right. Control freak. With effort, she held in an irritated sigh.

  “T-Bone and I will wait out here until you’re ready to load the car,” she murmured.

  This was not a promising start to the holiday. That was for damn sure.

  …

  Max sent another furtive glance in Gina’s direction and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The drive thus far had been quiet with neither of them eager to talk, although she didn’t seem to be pouting or angry exactly. Just quiet. Not her normal state.

  He didn’t like it even though he deserved it. He’d been a total ass about packing and the damn sweater. He’d overslept this morning, something he never did until she showed up in his life, and had been behind on packing. And, if he were honest, he’d already been freaking out about Christmas Eve with his family.

  Now that the time had come, he found himself supremely reluctant to go through with the charade. Then she’d shown up dressed in classy clothes that just weren’t “Gina”—changing for him?—and with that gift. He had a fairly accurate idea how much she’d spent on him, making the sweater an extravagant present, and he’d essentially thrown it in her teeth.