Chapter Twenty-Seven: Evolving Views (The End)

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: EVOLVING VIEWS

“Excuse me?” The look of pure cheated shock paling his sharply sculpted face, if nothing else, was well worth the request.

And though she knew she would pay for it later, she beamed brattishly. “You heard me.”

She almost laughed out loud when his face fell into a frustrated frown. He moved to cross his arms over his chest. “That’s not a fair request,” he pointed out. “And you know it.”

She did know it.

In the little striptease game they were playing, the request was the equivalent of bringing a gun to a knife fight. It was dirty. And underhanded.

“But it plays by the rules,” she stated. To the letter.

For a long moment they stared at each other silently, neither one willing to budge.

Max crossed her arms over her chest as well. She wasn’t giving on this. She wanted it too much. If he wanted to play, this time they would play by her rules.

For Christ’s sake, she’d never seen him naked.

He’d certainly seen her nude, many times now. But the closest she’d come was seeing him roll his shirt sleeves up enclosed behind glass, like some caged creature or piece of art on display.

She intended to rectify that. Right now.

They’d done so much together—in many ways, she felt as if she’d been more intimate with him than she’d been with anyone else, more open, more honest—but they’d skipped over so many of the traditional, standard steps of a relationship.

And, though she hadn’t felt as if they’d needed to take that cookie-cutter route—that their particular relationship would probably never have been possible if confined to the conventional modern mating dance—there was something to be said about taking on the standard steps in an unexpected way.

Besides, just because she hadn’t missed them at the time didn’t mean that she didn’t ever want to do them. The very variety he so prized—that she very much enjoyed too—included everything, even the everyday.

After all, some things became tradition for a reason.

“You still game?” she asked him, teasing him, provoking him.

She saw his jaw tense a second before he tilted his head, his eyes scanning the mirrors. And the people who were undoubtedly peering in unseen through the glass.

Oh yeah.

She’d almost forgotten about them.

Strangely, it didn’t bother her. It ought to have. It should have made her nervous. After everything she’d just been through, it should have made her feel vulnerable. Exposed. Naked.

But she knew the people on the other side. Kat. Rand. Hallie. Peter. They were friends. She trusted them. And though it didn’t really make sense to her, having them there made her feel safe. Brazen, even.

So, she sidled up close to him, letting her fingers trail along his suit coat’s lapels. Leaning forward, she gave him a tempting view of her breasts, displayed in her beautiful blue bra that molded itself to and lifted her curves. Pouting, she slid her hands lower down his chest and asked, “Don’t you want to play?”

“Take off your bra.” His voice was a strangled rasp while his gaze centered covetously on her barely covered breasts. “I do this,” he said harshly, not looking away, barely blinking, “and you take off your bra.”

Max sucked in a shocked breath when she saw the tether on his control slip. Her pulse raced and she pressed her palms to his chest, the knowledge of having so much power in her hands a thrilling rush. She bit her lip, a shiver of excitement shooting through her. She nodded.

Without warning, he lurched forward aggressively, forcing Max back in surprise. He jerked off his coat with sharp, violent motions.

Max stepped back when the motivated man stood, shucking his coat and shirt efficiently. Her eyes widened as he revealed his sun-kissed form. Out of his clothes and bared before her, up close and available for her inspection, he was…thin.

Kind of skinny, to be honest.

His arms were lean, sinewy, seeming too long and bony. She could see his ribs, gentle juts along an almost girlish waist. His taut, teak skin stretched over a completely flat stomach, solid but undefined.

While all his suits were tailored to fit him perfectly—to sculpt strong shoulders and emphasize the breadth of his chest—out of them, he seemed smaller. Less intimidating. Like a warrior stripped of all his defenses.

And, while she should have been disappointed—disillusioned, maybe—all she really wanted to do was touch him. It was like seeing the heart of him. The parts he kept hidden.

And she was a woman who knew the value of shields.

She understood the trust it took—the strength it took—to lower them. For her.

It—he—was beautiful.

He was built like the basics of a man. Meant for function and efficiency, if not design and aesthetics. Every angle and edge of his body served a purpose; nothing about him existed just for show. He wasn’t a pretty man. Not gym-made or manufactured or molded. But he was capable. Of just about anything, she knew. And that ability showed in every honed inch of him.

Even his lake-like eyes and honey-hued hair, so obviously artificial, had come to suit him. Had, through the course of her knowing him, become a natural extension of him. As odd as she’d found it when she’d first met him—thinking him some anime wannabe—she honestly couldn’t imagine him any other way.

He was a man meant to make an impression. You weren’t likely to forget him.

Which she supposed was precisely the point. There were few things more impressive than someone who was more myth than man. That made the impossible look possible. That could make the ridiculous seem real.

He, for better or worse, lingered in your thoughts long after he’d left.

She watched him bend and take off his shoes and socks, the ridges of his body sinuous as they shifted smoothly beneath skin. She held her breath when his hands reached for his belt.

He hesitated.

Glancing up at her, he met her gaze. As if gauging her reaction. As if assuring her approval.

She definitely approved.

Her pulse spiked. Her skin felt hot. She fisted her hands at her sides, itching to touch. She bit at her lips, aching to taste. She met his questioning gaze and nodded. “Show me.”

He slowly unbuckled his belt before pulling it free from his slacks. But Max couldn’t see past the press of his cock against his straining fly. She swallowed hard.

She’d had her hand around him. Had felt him hot and hard in her grasp. But it’d been dark in that car. The quarters too tight.

She wanted to see him.

He carefully undid his pants and let the expertly woven cloth fall.

Max froze.

Tall.

Lean.

Nothing but the long swish of fine, fair hair, pulled back at the nape of his neck, covered him as it flowed down the sharp spine of his back.

He stood proud—almost defiant—with his cock jutting out from his body. Thick and hard, it made her mouth instantly water. Made her wonder at the taste and texture of him on her tongue.

“Play fair, Max.” His voice was as intent as his gaze. “I showed you mine, show me yours.”

Numb hands fumbled with the clasp behind her back, but the uncooperative things—her hands, the tricky hooks—stuck as she just stared, transfixed, at him.

He laughed, the sound rumbling through her, making her feel even more foolish while her body burned with it.

Coming to her, he stood close before wrapping her in his arms, covering her hands with his. “May I?” he asked, even as he grasped the clasp, unhooking it easily.

Her chest heaved when he slid the bra off her shoulders, baring her body. The silken cloth fluttered to the floor between them. He stared at her. His hands reached up to cup her, his palms a searing brand against her tightly drawn flesh. “I want to taste you.” He bent low to take her nipple into his mouth.

She allowed him one sweet suck, moaning and arching forward—it was too good not to, his lips and tongue and teeth a heated wish on her skin—before she pushed him back.

Setting her face into the stern lines she reserved for misbehaving subordinates, she stared at him. He really needed to remember who was running this show. She pointed to the chair again. “Sit.”

“Is that a request?” he said as he sat, his face fierce and challenging. “I believe that counts as a favor.” A look of victory lit his face. “Take off the skirt.”

Max fought a smile.

She supposed one devious turn deserved another.

So, obliging her finicky rule-follower, she shrugged and reached for the hidden zipper that ran reversed along the full-length of her skirt, starting just above her knee and racing up to her waist. She saw his hand clutch at the chair’s arms as the parting cloth bared more and more of her leg. Knee. Thigh. Hip. Before the skirt fell away, a done-away curtain that revealed the small, thin triangle of sapphire silk hugging her mound.

If she hadn’t loved Hallie before, she adored the woman for the erotic ache painted plain on his face while he took in the sight of her. On his whole body, she observed, seeing pre-come glisten at the head of his dick.

Max licked her lips before stalking toward him. Trailing her fingers along the edge of the table beside him, she stared at its wares. Plucking her choice—a small, flat, pink vibe—from the very full surface, she snickered somewhere between a giggle and a growl. “My third request,” she said as she sunk to her knees between his spread thighs, letting that sly sound purr, “don’t move.”

Flipping on the vibe, she lay it on her tongue, letting her mouth get used to the buzz. She raked her fingers along his bare, hairless thigh. She’d never been with a man who shaved his entire body before. Knowing this one, he probably had himself waxed, never settling for half-assed. His skin was sleek and silken, the golden flesh feeling like pure luxury.

She felt him shift and stiffen beneath her touch. Max had the feeling that while this man liked very much to look and touch and take, very few were ever allowed to return the favor. Each halted hiss and gurgled groan that trembled behind his gritted teeth told her he was terribly unaccustomed to being touched.

She made a mental note to teach him.

And, with that mission in mind, she pressed an open-mouth kiss to the top of his thigh, right at the groove beneath his hip bone, letting the vibrations tease the sensitive flesh. The chair rocked as his hips steeled against a violent jerk. She patted his leg and trailed her lips down one thigh only to switch and traverse up the other.

By the time she stopped, lingering just below his navel, a breath away from the head of his penis, his entire body was shaking with restraint. Every joint locked. Every muscle flexed so hard he had to have hurt with the effort.

Poor man.

Deciding to be kind—sort of—she pushed the small vibe to the side of her mouth and flicked her tongue over his glistening tip. He moaned. His neck tensed and stretched, pressing his head against the hard back of the chair. “Damn.” His heels pushed into the hard floor.

Lightly, she let her tongue lave the hard column of his shaft. He tasted good. Clean. Salty. Smooth. It was like licking pure lust, his arousal electric and addictive.

Sliding the vibrator back into place, she took the whole of him in one slick slide, letting the pulsing toy press against him.

———

Fuck!

Her mouth was amazing.

“Max,” he grunted, “stop.” Though he hated—loathed and absolutely reviled—the idea of it, she had to stop. If she didn’t, he’d come. And he was pretty sure that coming counted as moving. And, damn it, he wasn’t giving up the chance to take her panties.

Slung over her garter-and-stockings set, only an all-too-easily discarded scrap of cloth was standing between him and his goal. From the moment he’d spotted the strip of condoms left on the corner of the toy-filled table, he’d known how this game would end.

They’d danced around this for far too long, he and Max. Come too close too often to pull back yet again. The next time he came, he would be buried deep inside the possessive pull of her pussy. Even if that meant giving up her mouth’s tantalizing temptation.

“Max,” he begged when she pressed the toy and her tongue against the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock. “Max, stop.” Now. She had to stop now.

Pressing against the base of his sex, she gave his dick one last, lingering drag before she mercifully let the vibe slide out of her mouth and into her hand. Shutting it off and laying it back on the table, she turned to him cockily. “You look about ready for my third request.”

Hoping—almost sure—he knew what that favor would be, he said, “Me first.” Nodding to the thong that was threatening his sanity, he just snarled, “Off.”

She laughed at him.

While maybe—maybe—later, after he’d sated himself on her for a few hours, he’d find the humor in this, right now that amused sound bubbling from her was distracting her and slowing her down.

“Off,” he repeated the command at her. “Now.”

And, though she continued to snigger at his expense, she began to strip off the thong, which was all he cared about at that moment. Left only in opaque stockings held up by thin, black garters and her vest that framed her weighty, ample breasts, she was a sensual feast.

Panties still in hand, she straddled his lap, her slick heat hovering over his ever-so patient prick. The rich, decadent scent of her filled his senses, making his head swim. Yes, finally!

“My fourth request,” she murmured as she leaned in close, grabbing his hands and placing them at her hips, “don’t let go.”

She reached for the row of condoms and tore one free. He could practically feel that tear as the rip raked over raw nerves. He clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into her flesh as her hands slipped the latex over him, digging deep within himself to find whatever shreds of control she’d left him.

When she finished, he leaned close to lay his head on her shoulder. His cheeks flushed with angry, aroused shame. In an apologetic voice, he whispered, “I won’t last long like this.” He’d wanted to make love to her for hours. Wanted to taste and touch every inch of her.

At that moment, he’d be lucky to last more than minutes.

With a smacking kiss to his cheek, she shrugged. “Then I guess it’s good they left us a whole table full of toys, huh?” Se rubbed her wet cleft against his starved shaft. Shifting in his lap, she pressed a playful kiss to his pouting mouth. “When we’re done, wanna pick three of your favorites and I’ll pick three of mine?”

He laughed despite himself.

God, she was too good. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her—was pretty certain he hadn’t—but he was grateful. While he’d always had high hopes for her, Max Wells had turned out to be far more than he’d ever imagined.

———

Knowing this was going to be a fast, rough ride, Max lifted her hips before lowering herself onto his hard length. God, the feel of him when he pushed into her was damned near perfect, like the answer to a question she’d been asking since the day they met. The fit of him inside her was shattering, the stretch of it almost too much for her overly teased body to take.

Gripping her waist with a desperation she wouldn’t have thought him capable of, she heard him murmur almost mindlessly, “Move.” His rangy arms lifted her considerable weight up and back down, forcing his demand. “Max,” his melodic voice pled, “move with me.”

So she did, riding him with a ferocity that matched the hold he had on her hips.

“I’m close,” he said while his hips pumped in time to hers. “I’m close.”

She nodded, feeling his need to release race past her own.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, slowing his rhythm.

She shook her head, even as she kept up her own speed. It was okay. She didn’t have to come this time. At least with him, she knew, he’d more than make up for it later. “It’s okay.” Intent on her goal, she rode him toward his finish.

He shook his head. “Touch yourself.” His streamlined arms, much stronger than they looked, controlled her thrusts. “You say I can’t touch you, so you’ll do it. We’re not stopping until you come.”

She’d forgotten how strong he could be. The sheer force of torrential will he could command.

It shouldn’t have, but it thrilled her.

So she grabbed the small, tongue vibe from the table again and reached between her legs. Switching it on, she pressed it against the sweet nub that peeked between the slick lips that hugged him. Her fingers brushed his needy cock as she toyed with her own slippery pussy, feeling the bullet’s buzz spur her.

He held her like that while she played with herself, watching her fingers work furiously. She looked down too, the sight of them connected while her arousal flowed between them exciting her more.

As her body began to spasm in sweet sensation, he hummed low in his throat and began to thrust her onto him again, impaling her deep and fast.

“Come for me.” His glass-hard, glacial eyes were alive with a scorching fire. “C’mon, Max,” he said with a final stroke, “come.”

She hit the bullet’s highest setting and let it soar her over the edge. One hand reached out to grab his shoulder, her nails biting into his skin like knives. She screamed.

They held each other fiercely while waves of tidal sensation crashed between them. Entwined, they drowned in the carnal cling, ecstasy roiling through them.

When finally they came back up, their breath panting and their bodies drenched with sweat, Max slid off him and slunk to the floor at his feet.

Distantly, she could hear cheers on the other side of the glass. With mocking menace, she flipped off the mirrored glass, succeeding only in making the yowling louder.

She turned into his knee, kissing the damp flesh. He tangled his hand in her now very mussed hair. “We’re just never going to have a normal date, are we?” she asked, exhausted and exasperated.

He paused, thinking about it before he removed the condom carefully. “Probably not,” he conceded before sliding down off the chair to embrace her on the floor. “Not most people’s normal anyway.” He kissed her temple sweetly. “Do you really want to?”

She shrugged. “Suppose not.” She turned her head to look at her lawyer, taking the strong sweep of his cheek in her hand. She pulled him down for a kiss, the taste of him consuming, a cataclysmic comfort that shouldn’t make sense but somehow did. This felt plenty normal to her. And that, more than what anyone outside this club—outside this room, outside this embrace—thought, was what mattered.

 

THE END

 

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