“I love making you scream,” he said hoarsely, his eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. “You look so beautiful.”
His fingers were stroking her slowly, up and down and she groaned thinking of the sensations inside her he was creating again, and how quickly she wanted it all again.
His fingers moved between her legs, teasing her, playing with her and making her groan. She spread her legs wider, encouraging him to slip one finger inside her, desperate in her desire. She was drenched, as he'd expected, and she clamped her walls down around him. "I need more," she moaned, "I want you."
He didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled out the finger and quickly found and put on protection. He lay above her and looked into her eyes as he slowly pushed into her. Her eyes widened as he spread her apart, her walls wet and hot and hungry, before he moved out and slowly moved further back in. She felt herself stretching and grasping him with her walls, he was thick and hard and filled her up completely. But before she could get too used to him he moved out again, and this time slammed into her hard. She gasped out loud, and Max began to thrust into her deeply, moving slowly again and rubbing against her, creating sensations that flooded along the length of her body.
With every thrust the sensations spread further along inside her and she found herself arching her back and trying to suck him in with her inner muscles. Her obvious arousal made Max grab her hips and he began to slam into her harder, moving faster and faster and they both rocked with the motion, her breasts swaying and the headboard banging against the wall.
Things began to spiral out of control again, and once again Amy felt herself fading away. Everything around her was dark; everything disappeared except for the exquisite sensations. She called out Max's name, tried to warn him, but had no idea what she said… She felt Max's movements grow jerky and he groaned and she knew he had come. The sensations took over her completely now, and she felt the waves of her orgasm flow over her, everything inside her seeming to leave her body as she lost herself in the throes of the climax.
When she opened her eyes, Max had moved out of her and was holding her possessively. They kissed briefly, and she found the energy to go over to the bathroom.
When she walked out, she was wearing a fluffy bathrobe she'd found. Max made a grumpy face at the lack of her nakedness, but she was too tired and merely grinned. She lay down and Max wrapped his arm around her. She wanted to say something about how wonderful it had been, but couldn't think of anything that wasn't clichéd. Max was breathing deeply, his arm strong and claiming his ownership. She felt her own breathing deepen, and before she could say anything, she fell asleep.
Chapter Four
The sun was streaming in, and Amy felt groggy and grumpy when she opened her eyes. She'd never been a morning person; it normally took a strong cup of coffee or two before she felt like herself. And this morning was worse - there was a strong sense of disorientation before she finally remembered last night and figured out where she was.
Max. She groaned under her breath. What had she gotten into? Her boss, of all people - what had she been thinking? But then she remembered last night, the whirl of glamorous people, the intoxicating soft lights, champagne and Max's hungry lips. She couldn't help grinning as she remembered her loud orgasms, before wondering where Max was. The bed was empty - she stretched out an arm, feeling where Max had been. It was cold. He must've been up long ago, maybe he expected her to get dressed and leave immediately.
Amy tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her heart and fearing the worst, she started to get ready for the day. There was a toothbrush in the bathroom, and she hesitated for a second before deciding to use it. Where were her clothes? She groaned again as she remembered the ripped gown, and the fact that she only had a pair of panties. Great, she didn't even have anything to wear for her Walk of Shame home.
Tightening the belt of the bathrobe around herself, she wandered along the corridor and out into the sitting area. The apartment was designed in sleek, modern lines with large windows providing great views, but Max had chosen to furnish it with a mix of dark mahogany furniture, deep-colored Persian rugs and a few beautiful paintings. In the morning light, the place looked warm and inviting.
She could smell something, was that eggs? Amy allowed her nose to lead the way, passing the formal sitting area and small library, and found herself in a large, open-plan kitchen. Marble bench tops and shiny steel appliances were drenched with sunlight, and Max was standing over the oven, guarding something in a fry pan.
When he turned and saw her, he grinned and said, "You look pretty confused."
Her scowl deepened. "I thought you'd left the apartment and wanted me out."
Max laughed. "What do you think I am, a monster? I was making you breakfast, was going to take it to you in bed. Is something wrong?"
A note of worry crept into his voice and Amy shook her head, feeling like a fool. "I need coffee."
It was too much to take in, but Max seemed to understand. He headed over to an expensive espresso machine and began to froth milk. "I assume you like cappuccinos?"
Amy nodded. At that moment she'd be happy to chew whole coffee beans, but she did in fact like cappuccinos. Max expertly pulled a shot and poured in the frothed milk, managing to make a pretty heart with the foam. When he handed her the mug, Amy stared at it in disbelief.
"You never fail to surprise."
Max shrugged modestly. "I used to be a real coffee snob, some people think I still am. I did a few barista courses for fun."
"Right. Well, this tastes great."
As she sipped her coffee, Amy wondered if she should do something to help Max out in the kitchen. But he seemed to be pretty much at home. "Don't tell me you're a food snob too?"
Max turned to her and smiled mysteriously before going back to stirring his scrambled eggs. "I do like good food, but doing a bit of frying is the most I can do in the kitchen."
Amy's coffee was finished, and Max expertly made her another mug. "This is my last one for the day," she said, smiling as she realized immediately that it probably wasn't.
Max was arranging food on plates. Spinach, hash browns, sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms.
"I take it I'm staying for breakfast?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I was hoping you were staying for the weekend. Maybe even the week ahead."
Amy felt her heart skip a beat. What had happened to "I don't do relationships?" She'd had a relationship with a guy who claimed he was looking for The One and desperate to settle down, only to learn that he was a true player - that had lasted for three days and going in she'd thought it would maybe last forever.
***
Max stared at the eggs, trying to decide if they were done.
The weekend had gotten off to a great start, but since entering the kitchen Amy seemed prepared to run. Maybe his little warning speech in the limo had scared her off - it was true, he didn't believe in love and he didn't expect this thing with Amy to last. But now she was here, and he wanted her around.
The image of a rose just wouldn't leave his mind. Amy was so warm and trusting, so open and sensual. He liked being around her. Except for the few minutes before she'd had her coffee, she was carefree and happy. And now that she'd had coffee, he wanted her to stay around.
There was sunlight, there was joy and there was Amy. He wanted to take care of her; he wanted her to be with him. Unless… it had to be said. The silent threat had worried him as soon as she'd hinted that she expected to leave.
Max stared at the eggs through narrow eyes, decided they were done and arranged them along with the rest of the food. He looked up at her again, steeling his voice. "I'd love for you to stay. Unless, of course, you're planning to sue me for seducing you."
Amy's mouth dropped and she sucked in her stomach as if she'd been punched. "You know I'd never do that."
Max regretted the question immediately and walked over to her side of the bench top and rubbed her arm. "It's just that - you know, people think, e
mployees and…"
He stared at her in confusion, unable to mouth the words. Finally he said, "Everyone wants something."
Amy's eyes were narrow and she carried the plates over to the tiny kitchen table before turning around to stare at him. "I just want you. Like you said, just a fun time together, that's our deal."
"So it's ok if we see HR on Monday and sign release forms to say we're in a relationship and that we relinquish all claims to legal recourse?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I don't mind signing papers, and I'd never plan to take you to court."
Max grinned, remembering a recent fake paternity suit. "You wouldn't believe some of the crazy stuff I've been taken to court over."
But Amy merely reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'm so sorry." There was genuine sympathy in her eyes and she refused to see the humor in it.
Max was taken aback by her reaction and shook his head. "Nah, you get used to it. Everyone wants something, and when they don't get it easily they'll drag in lawyers if they have to."
He brought over cutlery and they settled down with their meal.
"Mm, this is delicious."
Max grinned, pleased with her reaction, and trailed a finger down her neck. "I know what else is delicious…"
She laughed, and slapped his finger away. "I was taught to concentrate on your meal when you're eating."
It was easy to fall into a light banter, joking about their food and their plans for the weekend. Amy complained that Max had ruined her clothes, and she would have to take the subway in his bathrobe, at which point Max offered to take her shopping.
"Please don't buy me stuff," she said drily, and Max wondered if he'd offended her. "Why don't we stop by my apartment and I can pick up something to wear."
"Sure." He hurried to agree with her, afraid of scaring her off. "We can drive there after I put the dishes away."
***
It felt strange to walk out of the apartment wearing a fluffy bathrobe and strappy stilettos. It was even stranger to step into Max's Porsche wearing that ensemble - "This is my weekend car," he'd said, as if that explained everything.
Amy resisted an urge to sigh with exasperation. "What about your chauffeur?"
"He gets weekends off, same as my housekeeper."
"Of course." She hoped she didn't sound too sarcastic.
"Hmm." He backed out and began driving towards her place. "She comes back on Sunday night to clean up my weekend mess, though."
"And you normally make a big mess?"
As soon as she asked, Amy regretted the question. But Max merely shrugged. "Most of my weekends are boring. Just a bit of de-stressing from work, seeing the family for lunch on Sunday afternoons and sometimes catching up on office paperwork."
She couldn't help chiding him for working on weekends, but he flipped the tables expertly. Yes, she admitted with a guilty laugh when he probed, she did work on weekends sometimes.
When he parked near her apartment, the Porsche stood out among the other run-down cars on the street. Max looked around warily, and she could see the question in his eyes.
"We'll just be a few minutes," she promised. "And while this place looks dodgy, it's really one of the safer areas in the neighborhood."
He followed her upstairs and took in the tiny place with a glance. It was meticulously organized, the door to her flatmate's room was open and he could see the clothes lying strewn on the floor.
He followed Amy to her bedroom, and as he'd expected it was tiny but tidy. "Don't tell me, you became an accountant because you like things to be neat?"
Amy wrinkled her nose. "Am I that obvious?"
She was shoving clothes into a duffel bag, and he watched as she turned away from him and pulled on underwear and jeans, wriggling them up under the robe. She let the robe drop and he had a view of her smooth back as she pulled on a bra and slipped into a plain black t-shirt.
A hairbrush and some makeup soon joined the rest of her clothes in the bag, before Amy pulled out some sunscreen and started applying it to her face.
She glanced at Max's amused, watchful eyes. "You don't approve of my place?"
Max raised one eyebrow. "Surely we pay enough for you to live in a nicer area?"
Amy blushed and paused for a minute before putting away the bottle of sunscreen and stroking on some mascara. She didn't admit this to many people, but she might as well tell Max. "I'm saving up."
"Planning to buy a small country?"
Amy giggled. "No, I'd love to have my own accounting firm some day!"
The excitement was palpable in her voice, and her eyes sparkled at the idea. Her own place somewhere, just a small firm, but reputed and with a firm client base.
Max smiled and his voice was soft when he said, "I love that you're chasing your dream."
Amy nodded. "Yes, people laugh at accountants and say we're boring, but I really like the work. And I'd love to be my own boss, have my own business…"
She smiled at Max. "But of course, you already know what it's like to be excited about having your own company."
"Yeah." Max grabbed her bag and headed down the stairs, making a beeline for the Porsche and thankful it was intact. "My dad kept insisting I do whatever I want, I didn't have to go into the family business, but I wanted to. I love business, and managing Zetta was my dream for ages."
Amy nodded. "I heard your dad went into semi-retirement recently."
Her comment made Max smile wryly. "You'd think, huh? But he's always on top of what we're doing, and giving us advice - pretty good advice, though. I can't imagine him retiring for real."
"Where are we heading?"
The car was winding through the streets slowly, and Amy realized this wasn't the way home.
"I though I'd take you to my favorite hot chocolate place."
He parked the car expertly, and led Amy into the quaintly designed chocolaterie. They ordered a fresh fruit pavlova to share, and he ordered the Peruvian hot chocolate while Amy opted for the hot chocolate with orange. When her drink arrived, it had a strong citrusy taste, and there were tiny bits of orange rind in the mug, like chocolate-ey liquid marmalade.
As they dug into their shared piece of pavlova, Amy asked Max about his siblings. She knew Matt, who worked as head of Acquisitions, but she was curious about the others.
***
It had been easy to fall into a relaxed conversation with Amy. And Max was impressed by her dedication to starting her business - so that was what the late hours and tiny, shared apartment were all about.
She was such a refreshing change from the girls he was usually with - she didn't care about fashion, and she didn't spend hours fixing her hair and makeup before she stepped out. He'd watched enough girlfriends to know that the ritual before exiting the house was to slather all kinds of things onto your face, and Amy had only taken a few minutes.
She wasn't pretentious, and she didn't seem to care that he'd taken her to a hole-in-the-wall cafe instead of a more fashionable place. His sisters would like her. And then he cursed himself silently for that thought - why did he care what his sisters would think? She wasn't about to meet them anyway, she'd be out of his life in a few days.
As they lounged in the dark-themed room, Max told her about his siblings. They were crazy, independent and ambitious, and they'd all gone on to pursue various passions, from fashion design to currency trading and everything in between.
"And of course," he said, "There's Mark and Melissa, my cousins. They lived with us for a few years when we were little, after their parents died in a car crash. Are you ok?"
Amy had gone a little pale, and she nodded and had a sip of water. "I'm fine," she said softly, "It's just that… well, when I was little I lived with my cousins for a few years too."
Max looked at her curiously, and she went on, "My mom died when I was a few months old, and my dad raised me by himself. But when I was fifteen he passed away from a heart attack."
"I'm so sorry."
She nodded. �
�The first few years were hard. But I moved in with my aunt and my cousins, and they were all so lovely to me, even though they had their own problems."
Max held her hand and wondered what to say. He wasn't good with words, but she obviously wasn't looking for sympathy.
"I'm glad you told me," he said honestly, "I hardly know anything about you. I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner."
Amy laughed lightly. "Oh, it's not really something you bring up in everyday conversation. Let's talk about something else, how did you manage to discover this amazing chocolate place?"
Max smiled and told her how he'd found it, not surprised that she was trying to change the topic.
After they'd paid the bill, he held her hand and suggested a short walk. He headed towards 5th Avenue, to a particular a jewelry store he knew women were fond of. She was happy to admire the trinkets in the window, but he could tell she was uncomfortable when he asked her to come inside with him.
"Are you buying something for one of your sisters?"
Her smile was a bit strained, and she glanced around, obviously ill at ease. Max wondered if he shouldn't have brought her - maybe she didn't like shopping, or maybe she didn't like this particular store?
"Actually," he said, heading towards the counter, "I thought I'd get you a little something. How about that one?"
He nodded towards a thin diamond necklace, and the saleslady took it out of its glass case.
"Max, can I talk with you outside for a minute?"
"Sure."
He followed her out, slightly amused. "What's going on?"
"I should ask you the same thing. Why are you trying to buy me stuff?"
"Umm, I thought women liked jewelry?"
"They might, but it's not appropriate for you to - "
"Hey, I enjoy being with you, most girls I know like shopping, so I thought I'd buy you a little gift."
She glared at him. "Save the gifts for women you cheat on and other big apologies."
Max was surprised by her reaction. "I've never cheated on someone - "
The Pink Rose: Secrets, Love and Betrayal Page 3
