“It looks like the party is over tonight, Darlin’.”
“So it does.” Sloane put on the happiest face she could muster. It wasn’t much.
“So, you gonna let me call you?”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
She smiled for real this time. How could she not when Kasper flashed that sexy as sin grin? Sloane knew he was probably a total player, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she was looking for forever. She just wanted some fun, so she gave him her cell phone number. After hugging everyone goodbye, she promised them they would all get together again. Sloane picked up her clutch, trailing out behind Mirabella. She was just about to get in the Tahoe when Max called out to her.
“Sloane, I’m over here.”
“I see that.”
“I mean, why are you getting in Foster’s SUV?”
“He was driving me home. As per your request.”
“Why would he go out of his way to drive you when I’m here and going to the same place? That makes no sense. Get your ass in the truck.”
“Fine,” she mumbled, walking to his truck. “Night, guys,” she called back.
“Hey, darlin’,” Kasper bellowed while running toward her across the parking lot.
He was crouched down to half his height, closing the distance between them quickly. He was ex-SWAT and she could easily imagine him in action. All he needed was his gear.
He picked her up without slowing his speed, spinning them around in circles until she was dizzy. Considering the amount of alcohol she had consumed, it didn’t take long before she was yelling and giggling.
He stopped abruptly, letting her body slowly slide down his until her feet hit the ground. The friction caused her dress to slide up enough that only the swell of her ass stopped her from an indecent exposure charge. She tried to tug it back down as Kasper grabbed her face. He pressed a soft, closed-mouth kiss to her lips, winking when he stepped away.
“I’ll hit you up later, beautiful.”
“See ya around, cowboy.”
She couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she hoisted herself up into Max’s truck. Which was not easy considering her attire. He barely gave her time to shut the door before he sped off out of the parking lot. Whoa. What was his deal? Up until the end, she’d had a great night. She met some new people who helped take her mind off of all her problems for a little while. Sloane could have done without seeing Max with Charlie, but it wasn’t any of her business who Max slept with. The chaste kiss from Kasper probably would have been amazing, if only she hadn’t had Max as the new standard of kisses. That was a depressing thought.
Max parked the truck and then exited without saying a word. Whatever. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with him anyway. Her plans of getting laid were ruined. Maybe she still could’ve went home with Kasper. If only she had his number, he could come get her. She’d only given him hers, though. Asking Max for it didn’t sound like a good idea. Foster, maybe. Yeah, that’s a better plan, but it would have to wait. Now that she’d taken her shoes off, she realized she wasn’t going anywhere. Max slammed the refrigerator door, startling her.
“What’s your problem? You’re acting like you have a huge bug up your ass.”
“The only problem I have is trying to keep you safe,” he growled. “Going to a crowded club with wall to wall strangers was a bad idea.”
Sloane folded her arms. “Foster didn’t seem to think so.”
“That’s because Foster was thinking of keeping Bella happy. I was thinking of keeping you alive.”
Sloane didn’t know what to say. She was so angry with him for ruining her night and yet at the same time she understood what he was saying. She knew he was trying to look after her. The whole situation sucked. She hated being babysat. She hated being a burden on him. She decided she didn’t want to fight with him.
“Do you mind if I shower first? All that dancing made me sweaty.”
“No, go ahead.”
“Thank you. Good night.”
“Night.”
Sloane wanted to press him. She wanted to ask if keeping her safe was all that was on his mind. He was pissed at her. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, though. She didn’t want him to tell her how he screwed up with Charlie. Ignorance is bliss. On the dance floor with his arms around her was by far the most sensual encounter that she’d had in…well, ever. Like a ray of sunlight, it warmed her, bringing with it desire like she’d never known. Her panties were still damp with it.
She stripped everything off and stepped into the shower. She poured body wash into her hand, lathering herself. Her palms moved smoothly over her breasts, the nipples peeking into stiff points. She closed her eyes. She remembered the way they pressed into Max’s hard chest, not even an hour ago. There was something about Maxwell Fear that pushed every one of her buttons. She massaged her hands down her body, picturing Max there with her. She imagined him holding her from behind.
Sliding her hand down lower, her fingers touched the delicate folds between her thighs. Skimming them gently, she shivered. Placing one foot on the side of the tub, she let her head fall back, giving into the sensations overwhelming her body. The water continued to rinse away the rest of the suds as she plunged her finger inside. Already the digit was slick with her juices. Sloane pulled it out before pushing back in, adding another finger this time. In and out she drove them repeatedly. Soft moans escaped her, even as she bit down on her bottom lip to stop it. The pressure, building rapidly. Her hips rocked forward on their own accord, fighting for sweet release.
She imagined Max’s hands on her like they were on the dance floor. The feel of his breath in her face. She imagined they were still there dancing. That they were his fingers bringing her closer. Not caring who witnessed their performance.
It hit her hard and fast. Her inner walls squeezed her fingers as she cried out. It almost had her collapsing on the shower floor. Using the tile wall to hold her up, she waited until the aftershocks subsided before rinsing herself yet again. Finally, exhausted, she wrapped herself in a towel. She hustled to her room, dropping the towel at her feet before collapsing onto the bed.
***
Max
The entire drive home, all Max could see was the image of Gutter Mouth pressing his lips to Sloane’s. He couldn’t even say anything, for crying out loud. He’d had Charlie there for no reason other than to fuck her afterward. He was so pissed he could hardly see straight. Now might be a good time to ask her what was going on with them, but what if he didn’t like the answer? What if she was interested in Gutter Mouth for real? He hoped she was just flirting to have some fun. For now, he had to try to ignore it. He wished he could ignore the way she felt in his arms.
Once Sloane was in the shower, he checked his messages. Nothing but a few solicitors, thankfully. This whole mess started with checking his messages. He was worn out. He needed to stretch out in bed and get some much-needed rest. His emotions were all over the place. He wasn’t used to feeling this way, but something about her called to him.
Climbing the stairs, he heard a moan. His body instantly on alert, he pulled his gun from his waistband, stopping outside the bathroom door. No way, she couldn’t be. Yet, there it was again. A soft moan. She was in his shower getting herself off while he stood in the hallway like a dirty pervert listening.
His cock grew hard quickly. It was almost painful as it strained in an odd angle against his zipper. He reached down to adjust himself, trying to alleviate the ache. Another moan, more intense now. He swiftly began undoing the button on his jeans. Tugging the zipper down and releasing himself into his hand, he began to work his cock. He spread the bead of pre-cum down his shaft, stroking himself to the sound of Sloane’s pleasure.
Max wished he was in there with her. He imagined covering every inch of her sweet ivory flesh with his lips. He kept his pace slow, only increasing the grip and strength of each pull. His breathing grew shallower with each pump of his wrist. Like a deviant, he pressed his forehead to the bathroom door. I
t reminded him of the way he’d pressed it against Sloane’s at the club. The way her eyes had been glued to him as he’d learned her body with his hands.
The urgency in her murmurs increased. He was close. Reaching behind him, he pulled his t-shirt off with his other hand and positioned it to catch the mess he was about to create. She cried out loudly, pushing him over the edge. Thick tendrils of cum spurted from him onto his shirt. As soon as he was done, he moved—as quickly as he could—to his room. He left the door open a crack to watch her move from one room to the next. Her face was flushed, nothing except a big fluffy gray towel covering her. She swayed with physical exhaustion. He made up his mind right then and there. Her next orgasm would belong to him.
Chapter Ten
Sloane
Morning was not a friend to Sloane. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth while a freight train barreled through her head. Ugh. Why oh why did she drink that last margarita? She rolled out of bed slowly. She was still naked from when she crawled—or fell—into bed last night. Quickly, or as quickly as she could in her condition, she haphazardly pulled on a blue tank top and a pair of plaid flannel sleep shorts. She found Max in the kitchen, head hanging over a coffee mug that smelled absolutely fantastic.
Her cheeks heated with the memory of her self-induced release, with the sexy Max Fear as her inspiration. He never even bothered to raise his head to acknowledge her existence. So at least he wouldn’t wonder what was going on with her rosy cheeks. Whatever. All she wanted was a cup of that steaming life elixir to help put her head on straight. A half dozen aspirin wouldn’t hurt either.
Not wanting to break the silence, Sloane moved around the kitchen stealthily collecting what she needed for a perfect cup of Joe. Like she wasn’t even there, Max got off the stool, washed out his mug, and placed it in the dishwasher. Sloane was just about to ask him what his problem was when he walked out of the room. No way was she gonna hang around here today. She felt unwanted, like an intruder. She wasn’t going to stay where she wasn’t wanted. Maybe she’d call Bella later and take her up on her offer.
Twenty minutes later, she was dressed with a minimal amount of makeup on. Max was nowhere in sight. She stopped to listen at the basement steps. She could hear music accompanied by the clink of weights. She almost felt bad about going through his kitchen drawers, but she was quickly rewarded with her prize in the second one opened. She removed the pen and notepad and jotted down a quick note, pinning it to the fridge under a magnet for a local pizza delivery joint. When he came up for water, he was certain to see it.
The cab pulled up out front about ten minutes later. Sloane didn’t waste any time running out to it. Jumping inside, she gave the driver her destination. She would have taken her own car, but her keys were missing and she couldn’t find them. She felt like a teenager sneaking out after she had been grounded. She sat in the back seat of the cab grinning. The cab driver probably thought she was a moron. Oh well.
First stop, the mall. Retail therapy was in order. She wandered through the stores looking for nothing in particular. She didn’t need lingerie, since she no longer had a man to wear it for. She didn’t need anything for the apartment, because she wasn’t sure when she could go back. Work clothes seemed ridiculous, since she had no idea what would happen to her job.
She needed to decide what to do. Since Detlef was no longer around, she figured her job no longer existed. She could get by for a little while, though—she was always smart with money. She had a healthy balance in her savings, and a nice investment portfolio started, in case of an emergency. That would be tomorrow’s problem. She continued window-shopping until her growling stomach reminded her it was almost lunch. She’d skipped breakfast in her hurry to get out of Max’s house. At least her headache was somewhat manageable now, but she knew it wouldn’t stay that way if she didn’t eat something soon.
With her one new outfit swinging in a bag—jeans that hugged her ass and a cute new top—she made her way over to the food court. Enjoying her turkey club sandwich, she sat and people watched. She was just finishing her food when her purse started to ring by her feet. She bent over to retrieve her phone from the bag. She was unlocking the screen when pain exploded in her shoulder.
Crying out, she dropped the phone. It hit the table before falling on the floor. She pressed a hand to her left shoulder as liquid fire burned through her muscles. People screamed and pointed at her, their eyes wide in horror. Sloane glanced down, and there was blood oozing down her arm. What the hell?
A large crack! echoed in the air and chunks of plastic burst from the table only an inch from her body. Someone was shooting. At her.
Sloane dropped under the table, picking up the phone from where it’d landed. She had to call Max. She looked down at the screen. The front was completely shattered and had gone dark; she couldn’t get it to dial out. Shit. This was bad. This was really bad.
***
Max
Max was beyond pissed. He glowered before the fridge, reading Sloane’s short handwritten note for the third time. Each time he read it only added to his anger.
Max,
Going out for a while. Don’t worry; I’ll watch my back. Need to take care of a few things. I may drop by the apartment too. It’s doubtful I’ll be back before dinner, so don’t feel you need to stick around.
Sloane
How could she just leave? Max had warned her it wasn’t safe to be out by herself. What the hell was she thinking going back to her apartment? The woman was exhausting. Not even bothering with a shower, Max pulled on a pair of cargo shorts followed by a black polo shirt and his shoes. He raced out to his truck. He had hoped to avoid this scenario by putting her car keys on top of his fridge out of her reach.
Three times he called her phone, and each time it went to voicemail. Son of a bitch. After coming to a screeching halt in front of her apartment building, Max forwent the elevator, running up the five flights of stairs. He pounded on her door, repeatedly calling her name.
“Sloane?”
A young woman next door poked her head out. When she saw Max, she straightened her shirt, rolling her shoulders back to lift her breasts up. She played with the ends of her hair while exiting her apartment. He wasn’t impressed.
“She isn’t there. Hasn’t been all day,” she cooed. “If you want, you can wait in my apartment.”
“No thanks, Ma’am.”
Max bolted back down the stairs. In his truck again, he called Foster. The moment Foster said hello, Max went off on a tirade laced with worry. “Have you or Bella heard from her?”
“No, man. What’s going on?”
Max told Foster about the note he’d found after his workout. “I’m surprised she didn’t call,” Foster said. “I’m sure she just needed some space. Last night was pretty intense.”
Max shook his head. “I got a bad feeling.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. You try Gutter Mouth? Maybe he heard from her. They were pretty cozy most of the night. I thought she might even…you know…until you stepped in…” He trailed off.
Max gritted his teeth. “No, I haven’t tried him yet. I had hoped she’d come to you guys.” He didn’t want to picture her holed up with Gutter Mouth somewhere. His stomach soured.
“What the hell happened last night? I’m surprised the sparks flying between you two didn’t set the place ablaze.”
“Dude, I don’t even know how to explain it.”
“Charlie was pissed. It would take some major groveling to even hope she might forgive you after that scene.” Max could hear the humor laced in Foster’s voice.
“I’m not worried about Charlie; it wasn’t ever more than a friendly fuck with her. Neither of us wanted anything serious.”
“I didn’t get that vibe from Charlie, but whatever, man. I’ll make some calls. If I hear from Sloane, I’ll let you know. I’ll tell Bella too.”
“Thanks.”
Max hung up. He’d already checked her apartment. No way would she
go to her office. She wasn’t with her cousin. Cringing, Max dialed the phone. Gripping the steering wheel harder, he waited for the ringing to stop.
“Yeah, man?” Gutter Mouth’s lazy drawl had him gripping the wheel even tighter still.
“Have you seen Sloane?”
“No. Wait, I thought she was with you.”
“She did a skip while I was working out.”
“I texted her a few times, but she never replied. I thought maybe she was brushing me off. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I did a little digging into the name you gave me. According to the description she gave and the name she heard, I think I found one of our guys. Milo Booker is a mid-level thug that works for the Petrov family.”
“Fuck. Russian Mob. This just keeps getting better and better.”
The Petrov family was notorious for every type of felony under the sun. From jury tampering, to drug and human trafficking, to good old-fashioned murder. Wonderful, just fucking wonderful. Max punched his steering wheel. He didn’t know where he was going. Now he was driving around town in circles.
“If my sources are correct, the other guy may be Viktor Runikov. Petrov’s number two.”
“Any more shitty news for me?” Max barked through the phone.
“Her boss was into some shady shit with these guys, Max. You know as well as I do, it doesn’t take much for them to see you as a liability and exterminate you.”
Max sighed. “I know.”
“Sorry, dude.”
“This is a complete clusterfuck. I didn’t think I’d have to actually babysit her so she wouldn’t run off. She has no idea what she’s up against.”
“Sloane can always stay here if she’s too much of a hassle for you.” The barely contained excitement in Kasper’s voice pissed him off even more.
“She’s fine right where she is. Can you trace her phone?”
“I’m not a tech guru like Mother, but I can run a simple trace.”
Fear Inc Page 8
