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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: PERSPECTIVE
Max yawned before waving to the last of the volunteers as they left the shop. They’d gotten so much done, she couldn’t believe it. She was so proud of everyone.
“I can’t even begin to thank you.” Hallie sat down on the empty window display ledge with her. “Everything you’ve done...”
Max’s own lips began to wobble when she saw the beautiful blond begin to tear up. She let the woman hug her tight. “I should get home,” she said. “We’ve got more work ahead of us tomorrow.”
Hallie sighed and gave her another sympathetic squeeze. “Actually, I was told to keep you here for a bit.”
Max rolled her eyes. She could guess by whom. “I’m tired, Hallie.” She just wanted to go home. Wanted nothing more than to go the hell to sleep.
“I owe him a lot too,” Hallie said with a pretty little pout. “And I did promise him that I’d make sure you stayed until he got back.”
She groaned internally. Wasn’t that just like him? Putting Hallie in the middle. Using the sweet-natured woman’s guilt and sense of obligation against her.
Knowing that it would make Max feel guilty.
He was such a manipulative bastard.
Fine. He wanted her to wait. Fine, just fine. It gave her the chance to tell him what a jerk he was to his face.
Hallie suddenly jumped with a gasp at a sharp knock on the door. She looked out the window and grinned, waving at the woman standing on the other side of the glass, then squealed and rushed to let her in.
Max watched Hallie embrace a tall, auburn-haired woman, chic and sleek with an almost severe A-line bob that loved her strong, square profile, and a trim, toned form covered in tight black leather. “You’re here!”
“Hey, if I couldn’t make it in time to help out, the least I could do is take care of you afterward.” The woman smiled and wrapped her arms around Hallie’s waist. Spotting Max, she turned questioningly and said, “Hello?”
Max lifted her hand. “Hey.”
“Oh,” Hallie said, flustered. “Where are my manners? Rachel, this is Max Wells, the woman I’ve been telling you about.” She dragged the woman closer. “Max, this is Rachel. She owns the café across the street. She also DJs at Donovan’s sometimes.”
Max stood and held out her hand. It was quite obvious that the woman was a lot more to Hallie than a good mixer. “Nice to meet you.”
“Great to meet you,” Rachel said. “I’ve heard about you all week. Thank you again for all that you’re doing. You’re really putting it all out there for Hallie here.”
“My pleasure.”
Hallie grabbed Rachel’s hand shyly and looked at Max. “Do you mind if we step into the back for a bit?” she asked hopefully.
Max smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. Go ahead. Please.”
“Thanks.” Hallie stopped mid-step on their way to her back office. Turning back, she paused. “You won’t leave though, right?”
“I’ll wait right here,” Max assured her with a smile, charmed by the adorable woman as she flounced away with her date, “I promise.”
“Great!” She practically jumped with excitement and relief. “Great. We’ll,” she said as Rachel grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into the overcrowded back office that was being used for storage, “be right back.”
Max chuckled and sat back down. “Don’t rush on my account.”
The two disappeared behind the various mismatched furniture shoved into the space, blissful couple sounds muffled by the walls. Max was happy for her. Hallie deserved a little fun after all she’d been through. And Rachel certainly looked like Hallie’s brand of fun.
Max’s eyes widened when the couple’s reflection appeared in the large dressing room mirror. It was wedged at an odd angle that afforded a perfect view of the couple. Limbs entangled. Lips locked in a hard, hungry kiss. Max watched Rachel lift Hallie up, seating her on an office desk while wrapping her legs around her waist.
Max’s mouth dropped open. She should leave—forget her promise. She knew that. She should at the very least wait outside the store.
But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t leave. Couldn’t even look away.
Rachel’s hand slid up Hallie’s soft, lush thigh, grabbing the sweet flesh and pushed her legs further apart. Her lips moved down Hallie’s neck as the shop-owner’s blond head rolled back, her perfectly painted mouth open on a moan of pleasure. With furious hands, Rachel tugged at the wide scoop neck, shoving it out of the way, revealing Hallie’s satin and lace bra. Hallie bit her lower lip and writhed while Rachel licked and kissed and nipped at the tops of her ample breasts.
“What are you looking at?”
Max jumped, her hand stifling the shriek that escaped her throat. She whipped around to find the sharp blade of the attorney’s nose a breath away from her cheek. She stiffened when he sat behind her and threw one leg around her, surrounding her with his imposing presence. “It looks as if Hallie’s enjoying herself. Good for her.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, about to stand up to face him.
But he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight while she struggled. It was only a half-hearted fight, if she was honest. It felt ridiculous sitting in a half-finished room in the lap of a man who felt like a stranger while she watched a similarly strange woman love someone who was quickly becoming a friend.
Max was really just too tired for all of this.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked. “Watching Rachel and Hallie?”
She turned her head to the side, hating that she could feel her face flush. God, it would have to be him who caught her spying into the office like some peeping tom.
“You liked watching Kat and Peter,” he whispered in her ear. “I know you did. Tell me, is watching Hallie and Rachel just as exciting?”
Max’s thighs clenched together reflexively.
“I think it is,” he said knowingly. “I think it makes you just as hot.” His breath was warm, even against the heated blush burning within her. “It’s okay,” he told her. “You can tell me. Tell me how wet you are.” His arms tightened around her.
Max pursed her lips together.
“You could tell me, Max, or I could find out on my own.’’ His hand slid down to caress her hip, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her jeans.
“What do you want from me?” She grabbed his hand and pulled it from her pants, but not quite away from herself. “Why are you doing this?”
“I want you to tell me if you’re aroused right now.” He let his fingers caress her stomach lightly, teasingly.
“Why?” Her voice sounded breathy as her insides clenched in a sinful coil. “What difference would it make? Even if it was a turn-on,” and she wasn’t saying it was, “that doesn’t make it right. We should leave. It’s an invasion of their privacy.” It made her no better than Wayne.
He held her a bit tighter. “I happen to know that, when they come to Donovan’s, Hallie and Rachel like a little exhibitionism. And considering that they already know we’re here and don’t seem to be shy about what they’re doing…”
Max snorted. Even with her gaze averted, she could hear Hallie moan and pant. “Even so.” She shook her head. “It’s one thing for them to know that we can hear them; it’s another to watch them without them knowing.”
“That’s fair.” The man shrugged. “Well, let’s go in and ask if we can watch.”
Max turned to stare at him in shock. “What?” Was he insane? “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He moved to slide his hands up and down her waist, stopping just short of her heavy breasts and her weighty hips. “They know we’re here; we know what they’re up to. Sounds like a good time to me.”
“I’m not going to interrupt them,” she said, shaking her head. “You do what you want.”
“You don’t like watching them?”
Max’s jaw tensed, not willing to say anything.
She could feel his smile against her cheek. “If they knew and were into it, you’d want to watch, wouldn’t you?”
She shook her head again. “Why is this so important to you?”
“I want you to admit that you’re turned on right now.” He licked his way along the curve of her ear. “By this. By watching this. As wrong as you find it—spying, peeping, voyeurism—it arouses you, doesn’t it?” Her thighs quivered when his slick, silky tongue swept along the sensitive skin. “Just tell me.” Her eyes shut and her mouth opened on a tiny moan while his hands gripped her forearms and massaged her flesh with firm, sure strokes.
Max shook her head. She couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t admit something like that to him. It felt too much like giving him power over her, giving him that information. And, Lord knew, he had enough sway over her. No. She shook her head again.
He sighed, his breath hot against her skin. “Even if you think it’s wrong—have been told it’s wrong—so long as what’s happening is between consenting adults, so long as it brings pleasure, in any of its many forms, to all parties, what does it matter?”
Max stiffened suddenly.
Her jaw tightened and she turned slowly to face him. He had a disgustingly innocent look on his face. She shook her head and stood, shoving his hands away from her. With a huff, she left the store.
“Max!” She could hear him call after her. “Max, wait!”
She couldn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe his fucking nerve!
“Max.” He grabbed her arm. She tugged her elbow back, but he wasn’t letting go. “Why did you run?”
Run? Run? She shoved him back, pushing with both hands. Hard. She stepped forward when he stumbled back. “This,” she pointed out angrily, “isn’t running.” She shoved him again. “This,” she yelled, “is goodbye. I’m done with you. Leave me alone.”
“Not until you tell me why.”
“Why?” She wanted to scream. “Why? Because I am so tired of your shit.” She walked away from him only to quickly pace back. “All your talk about wanting to open my eyes. Wanting me to understand. Wanting to expand my goddamned horizons. Like I’m some kind of charity case. Like you’re some sexual saint upon some altruistic altar. It’s all bullshit!” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “This isn’t about me. That,” she gestured back at Hallie’s store, “wasn’t about me. All that ‘even if you think it’s wrong—have been told it’s wrong—so long as it brings you pleasure’ crap wasn’t about me. It was about you.”
“That’s not tru—”
She cut him off. “Tell me,” she shot back at him, “please, tell me that this has nothing to do with the fact that you got caught with Pip this morning. That this has nothing to do with you trying to convince me that you weren’t cheating on her. On me.”
———
His mouth snapped shut as his mind raced. A thousand perfectly sound arguments raged and rattled about his head, confusing him because, while they all sounded completely logical, none of them rang particularly true.
Max shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. “You lied to me.”
“I never lied,” he pointed out, the argument feeling weak even to him. “We never said we were exclusive,” he repeated, the refrain sounding empty even to him.
“The default assumption when you begin a relationship with a person is that you’re not already in a relationship with another,” she argued. “The default assumption is that you’re not a philandering piece of shit until proven guilty.” Though several inches shorter than him, she shoved herself in his face challengingly. “You lied. So you could get everything you want without giving anything back.”
He frowned. She was right. That was why he always told the women he was with. Upfront. Outright. So there was never a misunderstanding.
But he hadn’t with her.
And while he’d had lots of reasons. Lots of excuses. He had no defense.
“So please,” she said, her lip curling in a sneer, “do tell me how you, the big, strong, smart, in-control Dom, are doing me, the tiny, innocent, too-stupid-to-live newb, such a huge favor.”
He snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clanking loudly as he did so. His jaw clenched and his face set into a scowl. What the hell could he say to that?
She was blowing things out of proportion. Twisting his intentions. Manipulating his words. He simply wanted to show her things. Show her his world. What her world could be like, if she would just...
What?
Follow his lead? Comply with his every demand? Bend to his will?
Fuck.
Who wouldn’t jump at the chance of that?
He wanted to kick himself.
“So, yes, this is goodbye, sir.” She scoffed and walked away.
Shit!
He’d done this all wrong, hadn’t he? He frowned, wondering how the hell everything had gotten so turned around. He internally writhed with failure and guilt while he watched her storm away, her body practically vibrating with rage.
“What about your file?” he called out after her, not exactly sure where he was going with this. He just wanted her to stop. Had to get her to come back.
“Shove it up your ass, for all I care,” she yelled back without even turning around. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have bigger problems thanks to you.”
The pictures.
Damn.
All wrong.
“I can help you get them back,” he yelled. “I can help you destroy them, if that’s what you want.” She kept walking. “I already have a private detective on him. I have computer tracking systems. I can catch the bastard. I can fix this, Max,” he swore. He would fix this.
She stopped at the corner of the street, pausing as if waiting to cross the empty traffic. She sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit before she turned around.
Storming just as lividly, just as determinedly, she charged up to him. “Fine,” she agreed, still too angry to look at him. “You did this. You made a complete muck-up of my life and you should help fix it.”
Her jutting jaw shifted into a wobbly pout for a second before stiffening again into a scowl. “Just tell me something. If it had been someone else—if it had been Hallie or Kat or Pip—if someone had done what you’ve done to them, lied to them, like you did to me, what would you have done?”
He’d have hunted them down. He’d have made them apologize. And then he’d have made them pay. Because no one treated a friend of his like that. They deserved better than that. And an asshole who treated his friends like that deserved every evil he could devise.
Damn.
He didn’t even want to know what he deserved.
“I’m sorry, Max,” he said softly, sincerely. He’d rarely said that in his life, yet he found himself continually saying it to her. Why? What was it about this woman that seemed to bring out the worst in him? Made him act in such a way?
Or did he always act so carelessly, lie, cheat, and deceive, without thought beyond his own desires, goals and intentions, until she made him face his own self-made demons?
He shook his head, trying to make sense of the distressing thoughts.
“Forget about it,” she said, asking for the impossible with a dismissive shake of her head. “I just want this done.”
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