Max

by Tara Crescent

  “That depends. Are you making macaroni and cheese?”

  “Kids.” She tries to sound annoyed, though she can’t hide the smile in her voice. “Yes, Cole, mac and cheese is on the menu, and Clark and Cathy are quite irritated that I’m making your favorite dish.”

  “I’m the prodigal son,” I say smugly. “It’s customary to fatten the lamb for me.”

  She snorts. “Get here at noon, my little black sheep. And don’t be late.”

  * * *

  I’m smiling as I wind my way toward Mike’s shower. When I step under the steaming hot water though, the woman at the party last night replaces thoughts of my family. Sadie. She’s smiling at me in my fantasy and she’s naked. Cole, she whispers, her fingers coming up to stroke my abs, my ass, my hard dick. Water drips down her body as she gets down on her knees, beckoning me forward with a shy smile. There’s hunger in her eyes. “I want to taste you.” Her voice is a throaty purr of need, one that I have no capacity to resist.

  “Shouldn’t it be your turn?” Chivalry, even in my daydreams. The woman always comes first.

  “It can be my turn later.” Her lips part and her hand curves around the base of my shaft. Her tongue darts out and dabs up the precum that pools at the tip of my cock. “Mmm…”

  I can’t hold on. I need to stop her before I explode; I need to pull her into my arms and kiss every inch of her, claiming her as mine. But it’s too late. I’m too far gone…

  Damn. My body convulses in release and I gasp out her name like a lovesick puppy. As my breathing slowly steadies, I realize something. First she sparks my creativity and now she’s causing me to jerk off in the shower as if I’m an out-of-control teenager?

  What the fuck are you doing to me, Sadie?

  7

  Sadie:

  The next morning, before I can talk myself out of my decision, I knock on Cole’s door. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my pulse races, but I’m determined.

  There’s no reply.

  Maybe he’s asleep, I tell myself. Maybe he’s out. Maybe it’s a sign that this is a stupid idea, and I should just turn around and walk away.

  That’s when a very sleepy, very rumpled, very fresh-out-of-the-shower Cole Mitchell opens the door. He’s wearing a towel around his waist and absolutely nothing else. His hair is damp, drops of water glisten on his chest, and drip lower, and my eyes follow…

  Oh my god. There are happy trails, but this? This approaches nirvana. This is the happiest of all happy trails. This is the trail they used as a model when they were designing happy trails.

  It’s only when Cole clears his throat meaningfully that I realize I’m staring. Then I stare again, because my inspection has affected him. A lot.

  “Sadie,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I know it’s a cliché, but my eyes are up here.”

  Yikes. I’ve been caught again.

  “Cole.” I do my best to sound calm and level-headed, as befitting someone who’s about to suggest a sexual arrangement with the most gorgeous guy she’s ever seen. This is a business transaction, Sadie, I remind myself. “Can I come in? I wanted to discuss something with you.”

  “Do you have any coffee?”

  “What?”

  “At your apartment,” he clarifies. “Do you have any coffee? I didn’t realize I’d run out.” He looks adorably disgruntled. “I can’t think without caffeine.”

  “Damn it Cole, I’m trying to gather my courage to ask you to fuck me. Why are we talking about coffee?”

  His mouth falls open. “What?”

  Oh. I didn’t realize I’d said that aloud. My face burns in embarrassment and I’m confronted with a strong urge to run away. “Never mind,” I mutter. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.” I back out of his door. “Have a nice day.”

  He shakes his head and follows me. “I don’t think so,” he says, sounding a lot more awake. Evidently, he can think just fine without caffeine. He grins at me, oozing confidence and bad-boy charm. “If you think I’m going to let you throw that bombshell at me and run away, you should think again. I’m coming over. You can make me a cup of coffee, and then make that offer again.”

  I still want to run away, but instead I let him follow me to my own apartment. He’s a strange guy, Cole. On the one hand, he’s an escort. On the other hand, he was able to hold his own when we were talking about Henry the Eighth’s syphilis. And his tone? I thought he was supposed to peel grapes for me, not boss me around. Sue me, but I’m even more intrigued by the sudden note of firmness in his voice.

  Oh come on, Sadie. Admit it. You want him to get all alpha and dominant on you.

  I open my apartment door and enter, and he follows me, still wearing just a towel and nothing else, shutting the door behind him before turning to me with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Tell me again, Sadie,” he says. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  8

  Cole:

  Sadie swallows and is silent for a very long time. She finally nods. “Yes.”

  With that word, she seems to find more courage. She lifts her chin up and meets my gaze squarely. “What are your rates?”

  That one sentence works better than a cold shower at quelling my lust. She’s not interested in me; she wants to hire me. I’m just a means to an end to her. Nothing more than a walking, talking vibrator.

  I should tell her the truth and confess that I’m not really an escort. Instead, my mouth forms a question that I can’t hold back. It’s none of my business, but I have to know why this beautiful woman is buying sex. “Why?”

  She flushes. “I didn’t think I needed to justify what I want,” she snaps. “If you aren’t interested, just say so and we’re done here.”

  “I’m very interested.” I sit down on the couch, next to a ginger cat, who opens his eyes for a minute, surveys me with disinterest, and then falls back asleep. “I just want to know why.”

  Sadie starts to answer, then she looks in my direction. “Umm, Cole,” she mumbles, averting her eyes. Her face flames. “Your towel doesn’t quite cover your…”

  Shit. I hastily clamp my legs together, and that serves to break the tension. We both laugh a little, and she smiles at me tentatively. “Still want coffee?”

  “Yes please.” I scratch the cat behind the ears, and earn myself a purr of approval. “What’s his name?”

  “Her name,” she corrects. “This is Deep Blue Sea. I call her Blue.”

  “That’s quite a mouthful.”

  She smiles back. “I also have a beagle called Devil,” she says. “He’s a handful. He’ll be back from his walk in a little bit.”

  The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. That’s quirky, and now that I’m thinking with my brain again, not my dick, so is her place. Like Mike’s apartment, it’s an open layout, with no walls separating the living, dining, and kitchen areas. The pajamas from the other night seem to be part of a theme, because her apartment is filled with elephants. Marble ones, wooden ones, prints of cartoon elephants on the wall. It’s very eclectic. “I collect them,” she says, as I take it all in.

  “You’re a traveller too, aren’t you?” I ask her, pointing to a shelf. “That carving is from Thailand, isn’t it? And if I had to guess, the one next to it is from India.”

  Her expression becomes shuttered and her spine straightens. “I don’t travel much anymore,” she says stiffly. “My friends bring them back for me.” She moves to the kitchen area, and spoons coffee grounds into a filter. “How do you like your coffee, Cole?”

  “Milk and sugar, please.” I have no idea why, but every time she starts to open up, something pulls her back.

  We don’t speak as the coffee brews, and she remains in the kitchen. I don’t push it. I like Sadie and I’m attracted to her. But she seems troubled by something, and my experience as a bartender has taught me that people will talk when they are ready and not a moment sooner.

  When the coffee's done, she pours it into two mugs, both covered with images of colorful elephants. She ad
ds milk and a spoonful of sugar to mine, then she walks back and sits next to me on the couch in such a way that her cat is safely wedged between us. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “What did I say that bothered you?”

  I think she’s going to give me the brush-off, but she surprises me by answering. “Before I was married, I used to travel,” she replies. “I have bad memories of my marriage.”

  “Is that why you want to hire an escort?”

  She nods. “Jude, my ex-husband, cheated on me all through our two-year marriage.” Her mouth twists. “Starting during our honeymoon.” Her voice is bleak. “I didn’t know, of course, but all his friends did. I was an open joke, until someone finally told me.” She examines her coffee cup as if it holds the secrets of the universe. “It was partly my fault. I fell in love with him too quickly.”

  I ache to put my arms around her and comfort her. It’s obvious that the wound still hasn’t healed. “It’s not your fault that your ex was a jerk who couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

  “It’s my fault that I married him after only two months of knowing him. I should have been more cautious.” She shrugs. “After that, you can understand why I have no interest in being in a relationship. But it doesn’t mean I have to remain celibate either.”

  And that’s where I come in. It all makes sense now.

  If I were a good person, I’d tell her the truth. I’d confess that I’m not really an escort. I’d admit I’m attracted to her, and I’d ask her out.

  But I know she’ll turn me down. After her cheating ex-husband, how can she have faith in men anymore? She’s not looking for anything other than sex, and I can’t let her walk away and find someone else to make love to her.

  Oh, who am I kidding? I want her. I bend forward and set the coffee cup down on the table in front of me, then I turn to look at her. “I like to take charge. Are you up for that?”

  She inhales sharply. “Yes,” she whispers.

  Damn it, I should have called Seamus last night. What else would an escort say? Wait, Henry the Eighth. “I’m clean, and I always use condoms.”

  She nods again.

  “Tonight good for you?”

  She turns slightly pale. “Tonight?” she repeats.

  “What’s the point in waiting?”

  Her fingers worry at the fringe of the throw on the couch. “True,” she agrees, though she doesn’t sound very convinced. “Should I come knock on your door, or should I get a motel room?”

  God, that sounds sordid. I’m not prepared for the sudden stab of jealousy that slices through me at the thought that she’s done this before. “I’ll make the arrangements,” I tell her, trying to sound like I know what I’m doing. Before I can dig myself into a deeper hole, I get up. “Six tonight.”

  She rises as well. “Okay,” she agrees. She sticks her hand out to shake mine. “See you then.”

  Oh come on. Shaking her hand? I’ve been dying to kiss her ever since I saw her at my door. “Sadie,” I mutter, “that’s not how I seal a deal.” I move in her direction, slowly, giving her plenty of time to back away. She doesn’t move. She leans toward me.

  I don’t hurry. My fingers stroke her cheek, and my thumb brushes over her lush lower lip. Then I lean forward and my lips meet hers, and I am lost.

  Her lips are soft underneath mine. She sighs with need, and that sound sets my dick throbbing. Our tongues dance and duel; the feel of her body, pressed against mine, is almost too much to bear. I have to pull away before I push her on the floor and take her hard, on her rug, with her bored-looking cat serving as an audience.

  It hurts to pull away, but I disentangle myself from her. “See you at six,” I tell her, my voice raspy with need. “I’ll pick you up.”

  Her eyes are hazy with desire, and it takes all the willpower I possess to walk away. As I head back to my shower to douse myself with icy water, my suspicion that I’m in trouble deepens. I’m not the commitment-type of guy, but kissing Sadie felt like coming home.

  I can’t wait to kiss her again. And so much more.

  9

  Sadie:

  The hours crawl by, and my stomach is a seething mass of tension. I’m both dreading tonight and wildly anticipating it. At some point, I realize Cole never told me what his rate was, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I have far greater things to worry about than money.

  Cole’s an escort, and I’ve decided to have sex with him.

  God, that kiss. I haven’t been kissed like that since… well, forever. While Jude was a skilled lover, kissing was just a means to an end for him. Not so with Cole. I could have stayed and kissed him for hours, days…

  Leaning against Cole’s hard body felt really good and really right, and I’m terrified that I might already have feelings for him. The only thing that keeps me from knocking at his door and cancelling is the realization that he’s an escort. Given what he does for a living, tonight doesn’t really mean anything.

  Unlike me, Cole’s bound to be an expert at keeping his feelings under control.

  * * *

  I dress in a red printed cotton dress that is more pretty than sexy. When Cole knocks on my door at six, he looks openly appreciative, and I start to blush until I realize that it’s all part of the package. Trying to disguise my disappointment, I pick up my purse, keeping my voice business-like. “Shall we go?” I ask. “What’s the plan?”

  He puts an arm around my waist. “I thought,” he says easily, “that we’d go eat Ethiopian food on the Danforth? Unless you aren’t a fan of eating with your fingers?”

  Ethiopian food. A shared plate, eating with our fingers, hands colliding as we both reach for the same food? The entire evening is going to act as foreplay. “I love Ethiopian,” I reply. “Give me one second to check on Devil, and I’ll be ready to leave?”

  “Of course.” He settles himself on the couch and Blue promptly walks over and settles herself on his lap. “No, no, little cat,” I can hear him chide her from my bedroom, though he sounds indulgent, not irritated. “Your fur sheds.” He sneezes halfway through that sentence.

  “You allergic?” I shout from the bedroom. Devil’s in his crate by my bed, looking long-suffering and sad that I’ve locked him up. “Don’t you dare,” I scold him. “You’ve had three walks today. Go to sleep.” Amanda, his dog walker is going to come by and pick him up later tonight, and Devil’s going to spend the night at her place. She has a beagle too. Devil’s going to have a great time. Hopefully, so am I.

  “I am,” he replies as I come back out. “But it’s not serious. I just sneeze a lot. My sister has a cat too, so I’m used to it.” He holds my front door open for me. “There’s a cab waiting downstairs.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him. “We could have taken the subway.”

  “On a first date?” He sounds scandalized. “Sadie, I have some standards.”

  “This isn’t a date,” I remind him. I’m going to be paying for the cab one way or the other. Either now, or when I get Cole’s bill at the end of the night.

  “Hush.” He kisses me on the lips gently. “You don’t have to be wary all the time, Sadie. Just relax and enjoy the night.”

  His eyes are gentle and his tone is warm, and my skin tingles where he’s touched me. “Okay,” I whisper.

  * * *

  Dinner is a blast. We drink a bottle of wine and I eat more injera than is wise for a woman who is having sex after a very long time. I’m having too good a time to follow the first-date script though. The conversation flows easily between the two of us. Cole talks about his travels and his life in Thailand, and I amuse him with anecdotes about editing romance novels. We discover a shared love for reading, though my tastes are more eclectic than his. “I read thrillers and watch action movies,” Cole admits. “I’m very boring that way.”

  I don’t think he’s boring. He’s extremely good company. When we get to talking about our first times, he even blushes. “I was nineteen,” he grimaces. “I was a geek that colle
cted comic books, and I couldn’t talk to girls without breaking out into hives.”

  I chuckle. He’s wearing jeans, a black-t-shirt and a cream linen sports coat, and he looks desirable and dangerous. Not a geek at all. “Is that why you became an escort?” I ask curiously. “To make up for being a late bloomer?”

  “Late bloomer?” He lifts an eyebrow, looking mildly offended. “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen,” I say smugly. “I hung out with the drama kids. You think the sports jocks were getting the action? Not in my high school. The drama club was the place to be.”

  He laughs. “If only I knew…” He signals for the check and pays it with a credit card, refusing to allow me to pick up the tab. Once the bill is paid, his hand covers mine and I shiver. I’ve been aware of him the entire night, tuned in to his every move in a way that feels new to me. Now, his thumb strokes the back of my hand, causing goosebumps to break out on my arms. “Sadie,” he says, his voice husky. “You have the most beautiful smile. Ready to go?”

  “Now?” Damn, I hate how tremulous my voice sounds.

  “I’m not going to lie, Sadie. I want you. When you opened the door, I wanted to skip dinner entirely and make love to you all night.” His eyes meet mine. “Shall we?”

  Oh, who am I kidding? I want Cole. I’ve wanted him since I saw him weave unsteadily in front of his door, and I accused him of being a thief.

  “I want you too.”

  His eyes blaze with heat and barely contained lust. “Let’s go.”

  10

  Sadie:

  Our next stop is at the Fairmont Royal York. When I see where we are, I balk. “Cole,” I mutter a protest. “Listen, this isn’t really in my budget.”

  He frowns. “Sadie,” he says, “trust me. My brother’s the manager here. I get the ‘friends and family’ discount.”