“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock at Crave on West 5th.” I stepped back, tucking my hair behind my ear. “And please,” I said over my shoulder as I turned away, “don’t be late.”
I gave him a faint smile. To me, this was a game of cat and mouse and he’d finally caught me, but he hadn’t tried to eat me just yet. I had to tamper with his ego—get under his skin just a little bit.
Only it didn’t work.
The legs of his stool scratched across the floor and Max caught me before I could make a break for it out the back door. I spun around and was between his arms, my lips parting as I met his honey eyes.
His skin, up close like this, looked like it was made of satin. I wanted to touch his face, trace my fingertips down his firm, chiseled jawline. But I refrained.
“You think you’re fucking with my head, don’t you?” He asked, his voice a murmur beneath the music.
“Not at all,” I challenged.
“What made you give in?”
“Nothing. I just think I owe you this much…”
He frowned. “I told you, you don’t really owe me anything.”
“I kinda do…”
“No, you don’t, Little Shakes. You don’t have to do this. I’m not forcing you.”
“Whatever,” I said, deliberately maneuvering out of his arms and pulling my satchel on top of my shoulder. “It’s just one night. Can’t cause too much harm, right? Might as well get it over with.”
Max scoffed, which made me frown. He was giving me a dubious stare, and that stare alone proved that maybe I didn’t know what he was capable of.
“Shakes,” he said. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for more than just one night.” He took a step toward me again, holding onto my wrist and reeling me back into his rock-hard body. I clashed softly with him, my head tipped up, and our eyes bolting. “I don’t fuck around,” he murmured, leaning forward to place his lips near the shell of my ear. “I want you. Bad. Now that you’ve given me this chance, I’m going to make sure this one-night turns into many, many more.”
I could hardly breathe. Every word ran over me like hot lava. His voice was so orgasmic and deep. His body, so hard and smooth and warm on mine. It was no wonder the girls couldn’t resist him. I was trying hard not to be that girl, but with him so close, it was damn near impossible.
Max knew what he was doing, and I shouldn’t have tested his ego, considering I hadn’t been laid up in over five months.
I admit I was a little desperate for him. I mean, he was the finest man I’d been around in months. I saw him almost every night, and he was into me. Really, really into me.
The way he held me, his hand on the small of my back and purposely near my ass, exhibited more than enough proof of how much he craved me. He was silently teasing me and slowly but surely unraveling every stubborn fiber in my body.
I wondered why, however. I was the dullest girl working at Capri and, I admit, I wasn’t the most attractive of the bunch. What was it about me that made him want the chase?
I straightened up, smiling softly as I pulled away from him and walked to the door. I felt him watching me go, and when I looked over my shoulder, a hint of a smile was tugging at the corners of those perfectly sculpted lips.
As I pushed the door open, I casually said, “We’ll see about that, Max the Great.”
Then I walked away, glad the door shut behind me quickly. I bet it made me, dull old Shannon, even more enticing to him. A door slamming in his face—cutting off his view.
What topped the night off was the text I received from him later that night.
Max: Can’t stop thinking about you
The message thrilled me. To be running around in the wild mind of Maximilian Grant was a great way to end the night.
So, before I fell asleep, I sent him a text back.
Me: Can’t stop thinking about the cupcakes and drinks we’ll be sharing at Crave. The carrot cake cupcake, I heard it is to fucking die for.
Max: LOL. Potty mouth
Yeah, I was still testing his ego, but this was fun, and for the first time in a long time, I felt alive. Flirting didn’t come naturally to me, but playing hard to get did, and for some reason he liked that. And I liked that he liked that.
I liked where this one-night thing was headed already, and it hadn’t even happened yet.
With this story, I am going to go deeper—explain to you exactly how I ended up falling for Max. Judging by the story so far, a person can probably assume that I love him more than my husband. Well, that person would be incorrect. I love my husband with every fiber of my being. But my love for Max is…different. It’s a raw kind of love—a love a woman will never, ever forget, no matter how bad some of it may have been.