That was the opposite of anything she’d expected to come out of his mouth. “You were?”
“I was.”
“And what were you thinking about it?”
“That it looked like a lot of fun.”
“The world-famous sculptor wants to take a wine and paint-by-numbers class?”
“I’m not a painter.” He ran his fingers through her messy hair. “For all you know, I can’t even color within the lines.”
The memory of his drawings of her body belied his claim that he couldn’t do all the things in any medium. He wasn’t asking her to do some stupid, touristy thing because he was really interested. He wanted to spend time with her.
She trailed her fingers down his carved-up abs, playing with the flex and play of the muscle under his skin. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time alone?”
He put his hand over hers as soon as she got to his hard cock. “I want to do that with you, but I feel like we can really be alone here.”
He wanted to spend time with her, and it was an offer she couldn’t resist.
* * * *
Letty hadn’t been joking about having no artistic talent. The next day, as her “masterpiece” dried in the back seat of his truck alongside the actual masterpiece they’d picked up for his grandfather, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the misshapen fruit basket rendering.
“So, those who can’t do, assist?”
Letty laughed and looked down at her phone in her lap. “I was always interested in art, and I tried.” She looked back at her painting and pulled a face. “I really did.”
“You’re talented in a lot of other ways.”
“Are you saying that I’m good in bed?”
That’s not what he’d meant, but that was true too. “I—um—meant that you’ve helped me a lot. I was kind of floundering before you came around.”
She was silent for a long beat after that. “It means a lot.” Her voice was choked, as though she was fighting tears. He couldn’t take his attention off the road, but he wanted to pull over and pull her into his arms. Her vulnerability—the inability to take a compliment—got to him in a way he didn’t expect. That she was willing to show him her soft spots and pain made him want to protect her.
In the past, whenever he got too close, he’d pulled away for his own sanity. He wasn’t the kind of touchy-feely guy who doled out comfort. He’d seen his mother reach out to his father too many times, only to be slapped down, to think that he was capable of giving it out.
“I love taking care of people.” That wasn’t a surprise to Max. “And I love being around art as much as some people like making it.”
And she inspired him. He almost said it right then. Any lightness, any happiness that he’d felt in the past two weeks was a direct result of her being around. “I’m glad you’ve been taking care of me.”
He smiled over at her to find her beaming at him, and her light was almost too much to handle.
Chapter 14
It was two days after they’d returned from Key West and the first time since the first time showing up at Max’s studio that it wasn’t as his employee. She’d finished the process of organizing Max, and he’d finished a bunch of pieces. They’d celebrated each one with a round of toe-curling sex. Today felt different. He hadn’t asked her to come, but he hadn’t looked surprised or unhappy when she walked in. Unlike the first day she’d shown up, he didn’t even ask her to take off her clothes.
Instead, he was in deep concentration on a sculpture she hadn’t seen him working on before. It was all delicate copper wires and dancing shapes, and she was completely in love with it.
She didn’t say a word but found a spot across the vast studio and booted up her laptop. When she opened her e-mail, she was delighted and surprised to find that she had a few requests for bookings.
Every few minutes, she looked up to find Max twisting metal or stepping back to examine his progress. His sweaty T-shirt clung to the strong muscles of his shoulders and back. He was shiver-inducing even when all of his attention wasn’t directly on her.
She hadn’t turned over control of his e-mail to him yet, and she reflexively checked the address connected to his website when it pinged. All the blood left her face and hands and left her shaking when she saw Simon’s name in Max’s e-mail queue. She couldn’t even read the subject line for a long moment. Didn’t want to know what her ex-boss and ex-lover could have to say to her most recent boss and current lover.
It was inevitable that they would meet. Max was hugely talented, and Simon would have been in contact with him sooner or later about the festival. But knowing that and seeing it for herself were two different things. She clicked and read far enough into the e-mail to realize that it was an invitation to a gala benefiting arts education in Miami schools. The festival was a sponsor and was doling out the invitations.
She let out a sigh that must have caught Max’s attention. “What’s wrong, precious girl?”
As rusty and unused as his smile had been when they’d met, it was easy now. Dazzling even. She was definitely dazzled by him. Now, she was looking at him like a dumbass, and he was waiting for an answer. She wanted to delete the e-mail and not tell him anything.
But she couldn’t hold him back. He was going to be a star, long after whatever they were doing burned itself out. She had to tell him. “You’ve been invited to a gala for Art Basel.”
His brow furrowed, and he leaned over her shoulder to look at the invite. “Is there a plus one?”
“Yes.” She’d looked for it, and both hoped he would and hoped he wouldn’t ask her to go with him. An immature part of her wanted him to ask her so she could rub Simon’s face in the fact that someone wanted her. But more than that, she wanted Max to get the opportunity to show off his work, which meant that she should tell him to take someone else. “Maybe you could take Laura? She’d be a good fit.”
He put a heavy hand on her shoulder, and it crept over her chest, her heart, her right breast. Her breath stopped, and she lost track of her words. Every time he touched her, she went half out of her mind. It made it all too easy to want more of him, this magnificent man.
“I’m not bringing my sister.” With the hand that wasn’t tweaking her nipple through her bra moved her hair off of the back of her neck, and he kissed her. His wet mouth made fire rain down through her spine. The feel of his beard against her skin was electric and made her pussy pulse from the lack of it. She wanted him inside her again. Always. “No. I’m bringing you.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She wanted it, yes. The idea of him being proud of having her on his arm was heady, delicious.
“Unless you don’t want to be seen with me in public?” That was not her concern, especially when he rubbed her neck with his mouth and his beard again, tickling her and arousing her at the same time.
“We can’t do this in public.”
“So, you’re going to torture me, then?” A kiss on her clavicle. His tongue running along the bone made her heart skip. “I’m not going to be able to touch you like this. Kiss you wherever I want to.”
“You shouldn’t even be doing that here.”
“Why not?” He lifted her laptop out of her hands and put it on the table. Then, he turned her around in the stool and grabbed her jaw in his hands. “You don’t work for me. You’re my girl now.”
She needed to know what he meant by her being his girl. Wanted to know how he felt about her, if it was anywhere near as deep as what she was starting to feel for him. “I’m your what?”
He growled deep in his throat and it resonated through her body. She was so tight and coiled at her core that she could barely stay still. She wanted to spread her legs and press her center into him, but he kept her stationary—eyes on him.
“My girl.” He kissed her nose, and that could have been sweet, but it wasn’t. It was hot, just l
ike every inch of her body was about to go up in flames. “You’re mine.”
Letty never thought she’d like that, someone thinking that she was his. She certainly hadn’t felt it before—not with Simon or the couple of guys she’d slept with before him in New York. And she’d always thought that she would hate some chest-beating declaration of ownership from a man. But, from Max, it made her feel safe—safer than her rapidly dwindling savings account ever had. Max’s intense gaze, the kisses he started raining down on every inch of her face, but his lips made her feel as precious as he said she was.
“You’re my precious girl, and you’re coming with me.” He finally took her mouth, and her lips were a direct conduit to her pussy. When he finally—finally—loosened his grip enough that she could press against his cock, she found him satisfyingly hard. No matter what, she did this to him. He was hot for her—every pound of her. He pulled away and licked his bottom lip, making her moan. “Unless you don’t want to go?”
“I do.” Her answer made him smile again, and she almost couldn’t stand it. Instead of blushing or looking away, she pulled down his face to hers again and kissed him. She allowed herself get lost in him, floating under his spell and letting herself fall. Already so deep in lust, and it was more than like, but she couldn’t say what it would turn into.
This man who touched her as though she was a gift had pushed her deep into a dreamtime place where all of her insecurities, and all of the worries not directly related to her job situation disappeared.
They were so lost in the kiss, that they didn’t hear anyone entering the studio.
“If I wasn’t happy with Javi, I wouldn’t be sure which one of you I wanted to sleep with more.”
That broke the spell. Was Max hitting on other women and hoping to talk her into a threesome?
“What the fuck are you doing here, Maya?” Max’s growled question put her mind at ease, but when he moved away from her, so she could see who she assumed was Maya Pascual-Hernandez, any good feelings faded.
Maya was gorgeous. Tall, lean from physical work, covered in tattoos from her wrists to her exposed shoulders. With long, dark glossy hair and almost black eyes that made her the most strikingly beautiful girl in any room. If Letty was into girls, Maya’s looks combined with her talent would make her nearly as compelling as Max.
But, given that she didn’t sleep with women, Maya made her feel small. And the fact that Maya made her feel small made Letty feel even smaller. Just like that, the bubble of confidence that Max had blown up around them dissipated. Letty wanted to disappear. She wanted a hole to form in the floor and swallow her up right then.
It didn’t matter that Maya was married to an infamously reformed playboy—one who Elena had dated for a hot minute a few years ago. Maya was in Max’s league, and Letty most definitely was not.
She’d been close to coming mere minutes ago, and now she was pretty much sure she’d never be able to get there again. Not in this room where she felt so inadequate. Didn’t matter that Max still had his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m Maya.” She approached with an outstretched hand.
Unable to force herself into being rude to a perfectly pleasant girl, Letty offered her hand in return. “Letty.”
Maya’s face lit up. “You’re the wizard who made the beautiful website for this one!”
The way through Letty’s crippling anxiety about not being good enough to be Max’s girl was definitely through flattering her about her work. “That was me.”
Maya looked between Letty and Max and a shit-eating smile crossed her face. “Lola got to you, too. I have to admit that I like her style. Very sneaky.”
“Maya—” Max’s gritted teeth warning sent a bit of apprehension through her. He wanted to take her out in public, but he didn’t want to talk about it? Maybe everything he’d told her about how he felt about her, about how much he wanted her was a lie?
“Don’t try that bossy bullshit with me, Delgado.” Maya crossed her arms over her chest. “I live with the King of the Alpha Males, and I know all your tricks. You don’t like to be manipulated, so you’re pretending that you don’t have feelings for this girl.”
Wow, she was good. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Sure, you were. That’s what you taciturn Cubans do.”
“Kind of racist, don’t you think?” Just a hint of good humor snaked its way through his words, making Letty think that they’d been through this before. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to try to get her number.” Maya pointed at Letty. “Lola raved about her so much at the barbecue a few days ago that I knew she was the perfect person for some part-time work.”
Even if Maya made her feel like she was wearing sackcloth and had been beaten with the ugly stick, she still couldn’t afford to turn down work. “I’d love that. How many hours a week?”
“Like, twenty.”
“Sounds great.”
Maya clapped her hands. “Sounds good.”
“Are you going to that Art Basel gala?” Max asked.
“Yes, Javi’s making us go.” Maya rolled her eyes. “Fucking dumb-ass rich people.”
“You’re one of them now.”
“But I’m not a dumbass.”
“You’re married to one of them.”
“But he gives great head.” Letty almost choked at Maya’s flat declaration. Maya just shrugged. “It’s the only reason I keep him around.”
Max looked down at Letty. “Not true. My cousin is so fucking in love with this woman. He bought her a building.” Letty remembered hearing that. She wondered what it would be like to have someone feel that way about her. To have Max want her that much.
“I had to make him suffer until he saw the error in his ways.”
“He married a real nightmare instead of Maya, and then went through a shitty divorce.”
“I—uh—know.” Letty thought about coming clean then, but she didn’t want to get on Maya’s bad side. Then again, she seemed like the kind of women who would prefer the truth. “He dated my sister in the aftermath.”
Maya cocked her head, but she didn’t say anything for a long moment. And then a smile crossed her generous lips. “Model or stripper?”
“Pardon?”
“Is your sister a swimsuit model or a stripper?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really.” The other woman shrugged. “I just like to know what I’m going to be dealing with next Christmas.”
Letty doubted she would be around next Christmas. “I don’t think—”
“You’re going to be nice, Maya.” Max squeezed her arm. “We have enough drama in our family without you shanking Letty’s sister.”
Letty didn’t want to break it to them, but Elena wouldn’t just line up to get shanked. Letty could understand the sentiment though—she’d felt a little stabby when Maya had joked about Max’s sex appeal. “I don’t think I’ll be around.”
Maya just looked at her as though she’d grown a second head and said, “Don’t bet on it.”
* * * *
Max couldn’t think of anything he’d less like to be doing than picking up his mother from a Narcotics Anonymous meeting across town from where she was staying with his grandmother. Even before his mother had gotten clean, they hadn’t spent much time together. It was difficult to have a meaningful conversation with someone when they were stoned. And now it seemed like all his mother wanted to do was talk.
She actually called him now. It was weird. Every time she opened her mouth these days, he had a tightness in his chest, like an apology wanted to make an escape out of his windpipe. But he had nothing to be sorry about. Not really. She was his parent, and she’d failed him by stuffing her feelings down with drugs instead of leaving her husband and saving her children from him.
As she walked out to his car i
n an easy wrap dress, he noticed that she’d put on weight in the past few months. She’d needed it. Instead of sunken and aged, her cheeks looked full and rosy. She appeared to be healthier than she ever had been, and her sobriety had taken years off her face.
It was good to see, but he didn’t want anything to do with it. Still, when she got in the car, he found himself wanting to talk about Letty with her. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share something of himself with her, or if he wanted to tell her he was with someone so that she’d stop fretting out loud about whether she ruined his life—like she’d mentioned while getting off drugs.
“Straight home?”
His mother nodded. Now that she was closer, he noticed that her face was red and a little streaky, as though she’d been crying. He wished his sister hadn’t been in ballet rehearsals all day. Hell, he wished he would have called his mother a car instead of picking her up himself.
If he’d have done that, he wouldn’t feel like he was perfectly positioned under a guillotine blade.
“Maximillano, I have some things I need to say to you.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I just need to ask this one thing of you.”
Max sighed as the light changed and he pulled to a stop. Banged on the steering wheel with his thumb and forefinger. He would be a real dick if he didn’t hear his mother out. “Say what you need to.”
It was probably a fuck up and not very nice, but he didn’t have much more for her than that.
“An apology will never be enough to make up for what I did to you.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“And that’s the problem.” His mother took in a shaky breath. “I am still your mother, and I should have been there for you.”
Heat pricked the back of Max’s eyes.
Was he actually going to cry?
No. He pushed back hard on the threatening emotions. Sure, his mother should have gotten her head straight twenty years ago. She should have actually been a mother and protected Joaquin and him from their father. She shouldn’t have blocked Lola from being in their lives. So many things should have happened that he couldn’t even be sure that he should have been born.
Night and Day Page 12
