When he pushed aside my panties, I knew I should stop him. I was willingly playing with fire, and we were in the back of a limo. It wasn’t public, but it wasn’t the privacy of a hotel room, either.
It wouldn’t take more than a word or a movement to call a halt, to put this on hold until we were safely locked in his hotel suite.
In a minute, I told myself. Just one minute more.
But his touch grew more intimate, and I gripped his shoulders. Tension spiraled tighter and tighter within me. My brain started to hum, and a deep pulse grew to life.
I started to gasp, and my hips took on a life of their own pushing against Max’s hand. I was past stopping, past slowing down. It was going to happen, and it was going to happen right now.
I bit my lip to keep quiet, but I moaned just the same.
I buried my face in the crook of Max’s shoulder and shuddered as waves of pleasure crested over and over.
They finally slowed, then stopped, and I tried to catch my breath. “I’m...” I didn’t exactly know what to say.
“Don’t you dare feel bad about that,” Max said in a low rumble.
I could feel his voice in his chest.
“And don’t you dare feel embarrassed.” He drew a deep breath himself. “You are amazing.”
The limo slowed.
Max extracted his hand and smoothed down my dress as the limo came to a stop.
“Amazing,” he repeated and gave me a tender kiss.
“How do I look?” I asked, aware that we were about to step into the bright lights of the portcullis and the lobby.
“Perfect,” he said with a smile.
“You know what I mean.”
“A little flushed. A little bright-eyed. It makes you even more beautiful.”
The compliment made me happy. It was silly. I mean, what else was he going to say in a moment like this? Still, I liked it.
The driver opened the door.
“Ready?” Max asked me.
“I guess.” It wasn’t like I could get more ready by sitting here.
He stepped out first, then held his hand for me. He kept my hand in his as we walked to the door.
It was beginning to feel very natural, holding Max’s hand while we walked.
Somewhere deep in my brain I knew that feeling was dangerous. But I wasn’t using the rational parts of my brain, not right now, not tonight. Tonight I was letting emotion take over completely. Everything I had to analyze, rationalize and worry about would still be there tomorrow.
“Good evening, Mr. Kendrick,” the doorman said.
“Good evening, Carlos.”
“It still amazes me how you do that,” I said to Max as we walked on.
“Practice,” he said.
We turned toward his suite, silent as we made our way down the corridor.
He flashed the lock with his key card, and we were inside the darkened room.
“You need anything?” he asked me as the door swung shut.
“Do you?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Nothing but you.”
“Same.”
I was back in his arms. His kisses were more frantic this time. I could understand that. He was running behind me in the lovemaking, and I was feeling pretty frantic myself.
With one hand, he stripped off his jacket and shirt.
Then he pulled my dress up over my head. He jerked off my panties. I thought they might have torn, but I couldn’t have cared less.
I pushed off his pants. A condom came from somewhere. And then he was lifting me, bracing me against the wall, kissing me deeper than ever and pushing inside me.
“Yes-s-s,” I hissed, happily surprised by the strength of my arousal returning so quickly.
Usually the second time was milder for me, a muted echo of the first round. But not tonight. Tonight I simply couldn’t get enough of Max.
His pace was firm and steady. His hands cradled my thighs. With every stroke, he brushed the tips of my sensitized breasts.
My every nerve ending was squealing with pleasure. My core was pulling tighter and tighter. I had to remind myself to breathe.
“Layla,” Max called out on a gasp.
“Yes,” I responded. “Oh, yes.”
When I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did. The earth paused and the room spun around me.
His pace increased, and he pressed me hard, dead center, and I cried out as pleasure cascaded higher and longer and deeper than ever before.
We pulsed together, slick and sliding, our chests pressing together as we dragged in deep breaths.
Max wrapped me tight. He kissed my neck, then my shoulder, then my lips.
“You look pretty content,” he whispered.
It took me a second to form any words. “Actually, I’m pretty great.”
He chuckled low. “I’m so glad to hear that. And I agree. You’re pretty great.”
I smiled. “Right back at you.”
He kissed me again.
“Thirsty?” he asked. “Hungry?”
“I don’t know what I am.” I’d never felt quite this disembodied before.
I mean, I’d had sex in the past, with boyfriends I liked a lot. And they weren’t bad at it. They were fine at it. But this was different. I couldn’t put my finger on why or how, but it was a completely different experience with Max.
“Well, I’ve worked up an appetite,” he said.
He slowly lowered me to the floor. “I can order something while we shower. Any preferences?”
“Something excessive,” I said. “Something decadent and delicious, completely without redeeming qualities.”
“Decadent and delicious coming up,” he said. “Meet me in the shower?”
* * *
I woke up in Max’s bed, in Max’s arms.
It felt right. And that was worrisome—though it wasn’t worrisome enough for me to move.
Okay, maybe it was worrisome enough for me to move.
I glanced at the bedside clock and discovered it was almost nine. Now that was enough to get me moving. My stolen night was over, and I needed to get back to Brooklyn.
I shifted the covers and moved my legs.
Max’s arm snaked around me. “Don’t go.”
“I have to go.”
“Why?”
“I need to find Brooklyn.”
He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Story of your life. Okay. I’m up.” He sat up in the bed.
“You don’t have to get up with me.”
“I promised I’d help.”
“That’s true. You did.” It wasn’t something I intended to hold him to this morning.
I don’t know why last night had changed that. But it had.
I wrapped myself in a plush robe and headed for the bathroom. There I washed my face and combed out my hair.
I often went without makeup, but I had to admit, I wasn’t looking forward to taking the elevator back to my room in the flapper dress. Given how many people had attended the event last night, it was going to be pretty obvious that I’d made a last-minute decision to sleep in someone else’s room—not my best look.
I made my way from the bathroom into the living room of the suite.
Max was pouring coffee from a room-service cart.
He turned and held out a cup for me. “Cream and sugar, right?”
“You just get better and better,” I said, accepting the cup.
“I got you something else,” he said.
“A blueberry bagel?” I asked hopefully.
We’d snacked on fancy pastries and liquor-laced hot chocolate last night. I knew the hotel bakery was out of this world.
“We can get those, too.” He pointed to a shopping bag on the sofa.
I checked it to find a pair of black yog
a pants and an oversize T-shirt. Beneath them were a pair of flat sandals.
“I figured you’d be overdressed for the lobby this morning.”
“That was very thoughtful.”
He gave a shrug. “You want me to order you a bagel?”
“I don’t have time.”
I took my coffee and the new clothes into the bedroom.
Max followed, then leaned against the doorjamb and watched me change.
“What are your plans?” he asked.
I stepped into the butter-soft yoga pants. “I’m going to stop in my room and then find Brooklyn.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Keep Colton occupied while I talk to her?”
I was thinking about tactics. I couldn’t be confrontational anymore. It simply wasn’t going to work. I supposed I could beg, but I didn’t see that as a long-term strategy. I thought I might let her talk it through. Maybe when she heard it out loud she’d see the flaws in her judgment.
“I can do that,” Max said.
“While you’re at it...” I wasn’t sure how far I should press him.
He didn’t owe me anything. And I didn’t want it to seem like I had expectations after the night we spent together.
“I could help him see the error of his ways?” Max asked.
I paused before pulling the T-shirt over my head. “I don’t want you to think I expect that.”
“You demanded it yesterday.”
“Yesterday was yesterday.”
He sauntered close to me. “Last night was one for the record books. But it doesn’t change a thing between us.”
“Okay,” I agreed, liking yet not liking the sentiment.
“I’ll still help you any way I can.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You go find Brooklyn. I’ll make sure my brother has his head on straight.”
I stuffed my feet into the sandals, took a final drink of the coffee and headed for the door.
Max took hold of my arm as I passed, stopping me, and pulled me in for a tender kiss.
“Bye,” he whispered.
“Bye,” I whispered back.
We both smiled, and I knew I had to get myself out of there quick.
Getting the elevator to my floor meant a trip back through the lobby.
As I wound my way through the morning crowd, I was enormously grateful for the change of clothes.
Max was a nice guy.
He was a great guy.
I felt light remembering our lovemaking, floating even, focusing on his smile, his laugh, our shower and the decadent pastries.
“Layla?” James’s voice stopped me cold. “I tried your room,” he continued from behind me. “But neither of you answered.”
I turned. I had no choice. James was here. He was here in Vegas, and everything was about to fall apart.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“At breakfast,” I said.
The coffee in Max’s room didn’t exactly qualify as breakfast, but short of lying to James’s face it was the best I could do on such short notice.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” he persisted.
“Battery.” That part was true. It was low last night at the dance. But I had to turn the tables on the conversation before his questions got impossible. “Why are you here? I thought you said you’d wait?”
It was obvious he was annoyed. “I’ve waited long enough. I know you don’t want Brooklyn to marry me.”
His words rang nonsensically through my brain. “What?”
“You’ve been jealous—”
“Back up. What?”
“Of me and Brooklyn.”
“Jealous of you and Brooklyn?” The idea was preposterous.
“You know it’s true.”
“It is absolutely not true.” It couldn’t be further from what was going on here.
“You’ve been that way all along,” James said, looking more disgusted than I’d ever seen him.
He, too, had lost every ounce of reason. First Brooklyn and now James. Everyone around me was going absolutely batty.
“You’re not making any sense at all,” I said.
He shifted closer to me. His tone was laced with annoyance and accusation. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I stared him down. “I really don’t.”
I might not be perfect, but I sure wasn’t envious. I’d been fighting tooth and nail here for James. I wasn’t his rival. I was darn well his best friend!
James gave a flat chuckle. “The Fuzzy Lake trips. The club membership. Last Christmas. I tried to tell myself you’d get over it. I thought once we actually got married, you’d back off and give us some space. But this—” he gestured around the hotel lobby “—this nonsense is off-the-charts.”
I stared at my brother in silence. I had nothing. I truly had nothing here.
“She’s marrying me,” he barked. “Not you. And this best-friend-and-intimate-companion-at-the-expense-of-everyone-else thing has got to stop, now.”
I stepped backward from his growing anger.
A band was tightening around my chest. I wanted to fight back, but I told myself to calm down. Shouting at James wasn’t going to change his mind.
I pretended I was in class, that I was confronting an unreasonable teenager. I dredged up a calm voice. “James, I don’t want to come between you and Brooklyn.”
He coughed out another laugh of disbelief. “Right.”
“Seriously, James.”
“Seriously, Layla.”
We both stared at each other.
“I’ve been watching it for years,” he said.
“Then you’ve been delusional for years.”
I could never have guessed he felt this way. I thought he liked that me and Brooklyn were close. We were like sisters, better even, we were perfect sisters. There wasn’t a reason in the world to be jealous of me.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
I moved in. “James, you are wrong.”
He clamped his jaw. But I could see in his eyes that he was thinking.
“If I’m wrong,” he finally said, “then prove it. Give her back.”
“I haven’t—”
He talked right over top of me. “Quit monopolizing Brooklyn’s time. End this stupid trip so she can come home.”
“I’m not—”
My breath stalled.
There was Brooklyn.
She was walking across the lobby with Colton. Arm in arm, they were talking and laughing. They looked for all the world like a couple in love.
“Not what?” James’s annoyed voice sounded a long way off.
My expression must have given me away because he turned to see where I was looking.
Brooklyn spotted him and stopped dead.
“Who is that?” James asked.
My brain flatlined for a moment. I was honestly incapable of having a thought, never mind making a sound.
But then inspiration hit me.
“That’s Max,” I blurted out.
I started for them, walking as fast as I dared to the frozen Brooklyn with Colton standing beside her.
I could hear James following me.
“Max,” I called out as soon as we were in range. “I’m over here. You remember I talked about my brother, James? James, I told you I’d met someone here. This is Max Kendrick.”
My voice was way too high, and I was talking way too fast. I could only hope James would chalk my near panicked tone up to our fight.
I pointedly linked my arm with Colton’s, pulling him to me, putting a few more inches between him and Brooklyn.
“Were you just at the gym?” I asked Brooklyn, broadly hinting that should be her story.
&n
bsp; “Max Kendrick,” Colton interjected smoothly, distracting James by offering to shake his hand.
It worked.
“James Gillen, Brooklyn’s fiancé.” James shook Colton’s hand.
It was the first time I’d ever liked Colton.
Brooklyn finally found her voice. “I didn’t expect you to come,” she said to James.
“I got tired of waiting. And, frankly, I’m about done with the two of you.”
The blood drained from Brooklyn’s face.
“James thinks I’m monopolizing you,” I blurted out. There was an edge of annoyance in my tone. But then I was still pretty annoyed by that accusation.
James faced Brooklyn and took her hands in his. “You two have had your fun. I’ve tried to be patient. But we’ve got responsibilities. There are dozens of things to do this week for the wedding.”
Brooklyn looked my way.
James gave me a glare that seemed to say Brooklyn was making his point about my relationship with her.
I ignored him. I actually had bigger problems. I had to figure out what Brooklyn was trying to convey.
Her look said she didn’t want me to take the heat. My look told her to keep her big fat mouth shut. This was way too important to worry about me.
I’d talk to James later.
“Where’s your ring?” James asked Brooklyn, frowning as he lifted her hands.
She looked at her fingers. “I...” The seconds ticked by, but I couldn’t help her with this one.
She finally found her voice. “I took it off to go in the pool. It’s a little loose. I’ve lost a bit of weight. You know, trying to make sure the wedding dress is perfect.”
“I thought you were at the gym,” James said.
“I’m going to the pool next.”
James looked her up and down. It was obvious he felt like something wasn’t right. “Where’s your suit?”
“In our room,” I quickly interjected. “She bought a new one. You’re going to love it.”
“Can we find somewhere to sit down?” James asked Brooklyn. Then he looked at me. “Alone?”
I knew that was what had to happen. And I knew that from here on in, it was up to James. This was his chance to tip the scales in his favor. I could only hope he didn’t treat Brooklyn the way he’d treated me. If he did, the wedding would surely be canceled.
“We should get out of your way,” I said to nobody in particular. But I gave a tug on Colton’s arm, hoping he’d continue with my ruse.
The Twin Switch (Millionaires Legacy Book 13; Gambling Men) Page 14
