Maxwell's Fall

by Tielle St Clare

“I met with a couple of the executives from Oyltech last night and I’ve accepted a job with them.”

  Banner sat up in his chair, the springs creaking as he leaned forward. “You what?”

  “I’m going to take over the accounting work that my father was doing.”

  “Aren’t these the people you think set your father up?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what? You’re suddenly Nancy Drew, going undercover?”

  “It’s not exactly undercover. They know who I am.” She kept her spine straight.

  “I’m just going to do some work for them and…” She shrugged. “Look around a bit, see what I can find.”

  “No.”

  She smiled. “Detective, you can’t tell me I can’t work for them. And since you no longer seem interested in investigating this, I will. And once I have the answers, I’ll let you know.”

  She stood up, clutching her purse in both hands.

  “No, no. Wait. Sit down. Let’s talk about this.” His voice was a little more reasonable and Mandy’s knees were shaking more than she wanted to let on so sinking back into her seat was a good idea. “Now, tell me about this meeting.”

  An hour and a half later, she walked out of the police station and trudged to her car.

  It was exhausting being grilled by a police detective. She’d been ready to confess just to get away. Detective Banner had asked her questions and re-asked them until the story was so firmly set in her mind she’d be reciting it in her sleep.

  Not that she had any clear idea of what she was going to do once she actually got inside the company that accused her father of embezzling. It wasn’t as if she expected to find a file that said “how to frame Charles Pengrass for embezzlement in three easy 60

  Maxwell’s Fall

  steps” but she was sure if she got a chance to go over their books—and maybe found a way to hack into their computer system—she’d find proof that her father didn’t do all the things they said he did. She believed him. Now she just needed to convince the rest of the world.

  She smiled. Except Jackson. He believed.

  She opened her car door and plopped down into the seat. The early hum in her body had faded to a dull thud.

  She tapped her fingernail on the steering wheel. She could call him. A phone call couldn’t be out of line after last night. Men could seriously not expect a woman to call after a night like that. She bit her lower lip. Would it sound desperate if she called? Did she really care?

  Heck, he was probably already at the office. Jackson was never late. Maybe she could distract him with a little morning-after sex.

  She groaned and willed away the sudden throb between her legs. She had a job to do. A quick glance at her clock told her it was past time she got to work. Jackson would no doubt want an update of her meeting with Detective Banner and she needed to get some work done before she met Tracy for lunch.

  Agreeing to lunch had probably been a bad idea. Tracy would hound her for details and Mandy was more than a little afraid she would spill. She gripped the steering wheel and made a vow.

  She wasn’t sharing the amazing night with anyone.

  But she was going to replay it in her mind over and over again.

  It was like he’d been desperate for her, wild, almost feral. She squeezed her thighs together as her pussy reacted to her thoughts. She bit her tongue and smiled. Wonder what Jackson is doing now? His office was right across the hall from hers and he had a lock on the door. She could just slip inside and…

  She stopped the fantasy right there. There was time for more of that later, after she’d done some work.

  Even knowing she wasn’t actually going to call Jackson and ask him for a midmorning quickie, she grabbed her cell phone from the glove box where she’d left it last night. He was on her speed dial. It wouldn’t take much. Do it. Be daring. He’d seemed to like that last night, when she’d taken the initiative. Not that he’d let her lead for long but he’d let her guide their lovemaking. Actually, he’d let her beg and plead and then, finally, eventually, when she’d been a puddle of sexual desire, he’d given in.

  She dropped her head back against the shoulder rest, her heart pounding at the memory of that first, hard penetration. He’d taken his time, filling her up slowly until all she could feel was him and…drat, she needed to do some work. She couldn’t spend the rest of the morning daydreaming.

  Do it, be daring. Grabbing onto the voice in her head like a lifeline, she flipped the phone and saw she’d missed a call while she’d been in the meeting with Banner.

  61

  Tielle St. Clare

  A call from an unknown number.

  She sighed and hit voicemail button, waited while the phone did its thing, connected, input her pass code. Impatience tightened her jaw by the time the friendly female voice said, “You have one new message. To hear your message—”

  Mandy hit one and waited.

  “do dinner. Call me.” An unfamiliar woman’s voice echoed in the background.

  “Oh, Mandy, sorry just listening to another message.” Her mind latched onto the voice—Jackson. She started to smile but her lips didn’t quite make the curve. Mandy.

  She’d been “honey” last night. Or Amanda when she’d been bad.

  And his voice was devoid of the sexual, dominant tones of last night. That wasn’t a good sign.

  “Uh, anyway, listen.” His tone grew serious and she could almost see him turning away from whatever was distracting him. “I wanted to call and apologize for last night.

  I’m really sorry. I hope I didn’t screw things up completely.”

  Her heart dropped to her stomach and an invisible weight crushed her chest until she couldn’t breathe.

  Jackson continued. “There’s a good explanation—or at least, it’s some kind of explanation. I just, I’d rather talk to you in person. Anyway, I’m sorry about last night.

  I’ll call you later.”

  She stared at the phone, willing her lungs to start working again and her heart to slow from its current on-the-verge-of-explosion pace. He was sorry? Last night had been the most incredible sexual experience in her life and Jackson was sorry? She didn’t know whether to cry or scream.

  “To save this message, press one. To delete this message, press two. To replay this message, press three.” Replay it? Are you insane? Fury and mortification mixed in her veins and she dug her finger into the second button and listened with some satisfaction as the voicemail lady said, “Message erased.”

  Mandy closed her phone and smacked it on the dashboard. Good thing I listened to my messages before I called him and offered him a little lunchtime nookie which he is obviously not interested in. At least not from me.

  I’m sorry about last night. Heck, she didn’t need to save the message in her phone.

  She would hear it in her head all day.

  * * * * *

  Mandy took a sip of her coffee and sighed. It wasn’t from pure pleasure—coffee was merely filler in her diet. She really didn’t want to be here. When Tracy had called to confirm lunch, she’d considered crying off. It wasn’t like she didn’t have tons to do. But she needed to talk.

  And at least here she didn’t have to risk running into Jackson. He hadn’t been to work all morning. Coward.

  62

  Maxwell’s Fall

  Tracy came in, her uniform a little less crisp than it had been a few hours ago. The bottoms of her pants were muddy and her boots were coated as well. She grimaced as she stamped her shoes on the rug then bypassed Mandy altogether, heading for the order counter. Moments later, a soda cup in her hand, she came to the table and plopped down.

  “Long morning?” Mandy asked.

  “Messy morning. Had to clear out some guys from the woods.”

  “At least it’s not snowing.”

  “Yet.” Tracy sipped her coffee and sat forward. “Okay, now. Spill. I need details about this wild and wicked night with the accountant.”

  Mandy sighed.
“No details, except one.” She tapped her finger on top of her phone, as if keeping the thing handy made it real. Hell, she could live with the pain. It was the embarrassment that was going to haunt her. How was she ever going to face Jackson again?

  “What?” Tracy prompted. She must have seen the change in Mandy because her voice lost its teasing tone.

  “He called and apologized.”

  “For what?”

  “For sleeping with me.”

  Tracy’s head snapped back. “What?!” Her irritation on Mandy’s behalf soothed some of the pain. She took another sip of coffee.

  “The most wild, incredible night of my life and he leaves a message on my voicemail saying he’s sorry for last night and hopes he didn’t screw things up.”

  The tension drained out of Tracy’s body. “Oh? Is that it?”

  “Is that it? The man regrets having sex with me. That’s a pretty big deal to me.” She huffed out her breath. “I mean, I thought he’d enjoyed himself. He acted like he had and it wasn’t like it was just the one time.” Lost in her own thoughts, she shook her head and stared at the paper menu taped to the wall. “Don’t you think that if he wasn’t enjoying himself he’d have stopped with just once?”

  “Instead of how many times?”

  Blinking over at Tracy, she realized she’d been speaking aloud. “Uh, four?”

  “Four!” Tracy’s hand jerked and her cup tipped over. With perfect reflexes, she caught it before it could fall, spilling only a few drops from the opening in the lid. After she’d placed the cup back on the table, she leaned forward. “You mean you had four orgasms? In one night?”

  Mandy felt her cheeks turn red and knew she should just stop here but the intent look on Tracy’s face warned she wasn’t going away without an answer.

  “No.”

  Tracy sighed and appeared relieved. “Okay. I feel a little better.”

  63

  Tielle St. Clare

  “No, four was just the number of separate times we, kind of, you know, got started.” Mandy couldn’t believe she was actually saying these words out loud but couldn’t quite get herself to stop. “A couple of times I came twice, except that first time.” She chewed on her thumbnail, mentally counting back through the night.

  “Unless you don’t count what happened downstairs as a separate incident, then it was three times but that means three, or was it four—?”

  She realized that Tracy wasn’t responding. She looked across the small table.

  Tracy’s mouth opened then shut then opened again. “Let me get this straight, you had sex with Jackson—a man I’ve met and who, let me tell you, doesn’t come across as Mr.

  High Sex Drive—and you came a half a dozen times.”

  Mandy’s blush grew deeper and she looked around to see if anyone was listening.

  “I wasn’t actually counting at the time.”

  “The exact number doesn’t matter. The thing is, you cannot let this man get away.

  At least until you’re done with him.”

  “He called and apologized.”

  “Because he thinks he screwed up.”

  “Yes!”

  “Mandy, honey, he’s just going through the typical male reaction to having sex with a friend. He’s worried that he’s messed up your friendship by sleeping with you. He’s probably thinking you’re sitting here rehashing last night’s events and you’re regretting it, or God forbid, planning your wedding. It was a preemptive strike. Trust me, if a guy reaches for you four times in one night, he’s either been in prison for ten years or he’s interested in you.”

  It sounded so logical when Tracy said it. “Okay, but what am I supposed to do now?”

  “Seduce him.”

  Mandy laughed. “I think we’re a little past the seduction stage.”

  “You’re never past the seduction stage. And all you have to do is show him that you want to continue the sexual relationship.” Tracy’s eyebrows dipped low. “You do want to, don’t you?”

  “Well yes.”

  “Good, I didn’t want to have to spend my afternoon having you committed.” Tracy stood up. “Let’s get our food to go. We’re going to hit the mall. You and I are going shopping for some wickedly sexy underwear and we’ll come up with a plan.”

  “Right, a plan to seduce Jackson.” Mandy laughed, feeling better already. Not that she actually planned to seduce Jackson but Tracy’s support eased some of the pain.

  “Why don’t we just skip the underwear and I’ll just stand naked in his living room?”

  Tracy clapped her hands together. “Good, good. I like the way you think. We’ll refine the plan as we shop.”

  Tracy headed toward the door and Mandy had no choice but to follow.

  64

  Maxwell’s Fall

  It was insane of course. No way was she going to stand in Jackson’s living room naked. No way.

  65

  Tielle St. Clare

  Chapter Seven

  Max groaned and rolled over, wishing the pounding in his head was from a hangover but recognizing the guilt thumping the inside of his skull.

  He’d made love to Mandy. He’d made love to Jax’s fiancée. He’d more than made love to her—he’d fucked her into the mattress. God knew how she’d found the strength to get up and go to work. He could barely move.

  He’d woken up when she’d started the shower and though he considered joining her, he knew she had to be too sore to take him again. So he’d waited for her to return, fully intending to pretend being asleep until she left. But the delicious scent of her pussy and the spike of arousal when she came near had been too much and he hadn’t been able to resist reaching for her again, tasting her. He smiled at the memory. He hadn’t even come and it didn’t bother him. The taste of her had been enough.

  He licked his lips, searching for a hint of the delicious flavor.

  He pushed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes.

  I’m such an asshole. Jax is going to kill me.

  He’d always been a bit of a player. Admitted it, even reveled in that reputation but there were some things that were just off limits, and fucking his brother’s woman had to be at the top of that list.

  Damn, his mother had always warned him. Said when he fell, it would be hard.

  Like millions of rocks tipping off a mountain.

  Max tried to soothe his noisy conscience by saying he hadn’t meant it to happen.

  He’d planned to explain that she’d spent the evening with the wrong brother. But then she’d been there, her breasts pushing against that tight T-shirt, nipples hard and tight.

  And damn, somehow his lips had been on hers and after that there had been no stopping that train. He’d had to taste all of her. Her lips, her skin, the sweet liquid between her legs.

  He groaned. Damn she’d tasted sweet. Like candy melting on his tongue.

  He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock, hard and ready.

  The fiery memory of sliding into her cunt, filling it and feeling it stretch swirled around his cock and he tightened his fist. Stroking the hard flesh, silently promising himself that he’d be inside her again soon.

  No, fuck, he couldn’t do that. In fact, he had to tell her she’d had sex with the wrong brother.

  The guilt returned, nudging aside any seductive thoughts. Even his cock started to wilt.

  66

  Maxwell’s Fall

  First, he had to talk to his brother and confess. It was probably better to confess to Jax first and get his advice on how to tell Mandy. Hell, maybe Jax would want to tell Mandy. Maybe Jax would have to tell Mandy because Jax was going to kill Max when he found out.

  Max could understand the reaction. He’d kill anyone who touched her or tried to touch her. Or looked at her funny.

  His wolf growled his approval of Max’s thoughts. Max pulled back. Strange. The wolf was an elemental creature, focused on the basics of food, sleep, safety and sex. So why was the creatur
e echoing, hell, practically encouraging Max’s weird possessive streak? Jax would probably know and he could ask him, once he found his brother.

  Reluctant to leave the warmth of Mandy’s bed, he rolled over and reached for his jeans. His phone had rung at some point in the night. He’d heard it but he’d been buried in Mandy’s cunt and nothing could have pulled him away.

  He glanced at his incoming calls and immediately recognized the number. Dani.

  Fuck. More guilt. Sure he and Dani were “on a break” but he wasn’t sure that meant he could sleep with another woman. He hadn’t even considered Dani last night.

  He sagged back onto the pillow and dropped his forearm across his eyes as he hit the message button.

  He waited. The voicemail connected, but silence echoed through the phone. A male voice rumbled unrecognizable words.

  “Oh, Max, it’s Dani.” He waited for her to launch into her message but there was more quiet. Not quite silence. The phone captured the hitch of her breath. Another masculine prompt. “Uh, Max, it’s Dani. Oh wait, I already said that.” What the fuck? He sat up, holding the phone close, listening to the background sounds. “Listen, I think we should…oh God, uhm, sorry, Max, right.” He stared blindly at the quilt covering his legs. He knew those sounds, recognized the breathless voice. Dani was being fucked.

  While she was calling him. “I think it might be better if we—”

  Her voice cut off again. Whoever was fucking her was doing a damn good job of it.

  She had amazing amounts of focus. “What the—? Oh fuck. Yes.”

  His dick hardened. Not that he necessarily wanted to fuck Dani but damn, the sexual sounds coming from her would make a dead man hard.

  The male voice interrupted again, low and indistinguishable.

  “Oh, right, Max.” Good to know he was so memorable. He smiled and shook his head. Strange that the jealousy he would have expected was missing. The fact that Dani was fucking another guy actually helped his own guilt. No need to tell her about Mandy when she was getting horizontal with another guy a week after their “break”

  started. “Listen, I think we should just consider this break permanent.”

  The air rushed out of his lungs. She’d ended it. A break was one thing but it was nice to have something to fall back on.