by Brandi Evans
As the rest of the day ticked by, those words played through my mind on an endless repeat. We hadn't exactly had the time alone to delve into what they meant. Were they nothing more than raising the stakes on his scripted response of one drama at a time, people? I might have been able to believe that if it wasn't for his I love you immediately following. Those words had been for me and me alone. They weren't part of Angela's manipulation.
So, what were they exactly?
I looked to Max for the millionth time, imploring him with my stare, but he was busy talking with his team of attorneys. They'd just finished the paperwork to have Dubois Fashions dissolved. They'd also prepared papers for defamation of character, libel, and several other things I'd only half been paying attention to. All I really cared about was that she wouldn't be walking away from this unscathed, which she thoroughly deserved.
"Ms. Jennings."
I looked up. Todd stood beside me where I sat on a sofa in the corner of Max's office. He had a to-go cup from Spill the Beans in one hand and their familiar paper bag in the other.
"Mr. Penn said to bring you these to tide you over until dinner."
"He did? When?"
The man had been going ninety to nothing since the press conference. Yes, he'd taken the time to check on me throughout the day, but he'd never really stopped. Are you doing okay? Do you need anything? Here's this one employee you've never met. Oh, and here's another one. He'd made sure to include me as well as he could, but I could tell he'd been swamped, so I hadn't pushed for time together. There'd be time for that later.
Was this what it was like for him every day? Sure, there was a little extra going on, but I'd always harbored the suspicion Max was always this busy, that this was just another day, just another problem for him to work out.
"Just after the press conference," Todd answered. "He said you usually went for coffee and a snack about four, and he wanted me to make sure this arrived at that time."
I glanced at my watch. Well, fuck me, it was two minutes after four. When had it gotten so late? "Thank you, Todd," I said, taking the cup and bag. "This is perfect."
"My pleasure. Is there anything else I can get you?"
I nodded my head toward Max. "Is this what his normal days are like?"
Todd seemed to ponder my question a moment. "While today's certainly atypical, I can't say it's any faster-paced than most of his days."
I took a sip of the drink. Mmm. A half-sugar, hazelnut latte, just what I liked. "How long have you known about us?" I asked him. "I mean, I've suspected you've known for a while, but I wasn't sure until the other day."
"Since mid-to-late February, when he'd told me to send any of your calls straight through, no matter what he was doing. He hadn't even done that with his wife, and he certainly hadn't made that kind of arrangement for any of his other managers. So, yeah, I put two and two together pretty quickly."
"Thank you for keeping our secret. Given everything that's happening now, I just wanted to thank you personally. Considering how much the tabloids love Max, you could have, no doubt, made a pretty penny with that information."
"Yeah, I probably could have. Too bad I hadn't thought about that earlier, huh?" The left side of his lip tipped up.
Note to self: tell Max to give that man a raise.
The sound of chair legs scraping across the floor drew our attention to the conference room where Max was shaking hands with, I assumed, the lead attorney. I set the goodies Todd had brought me on the coffee table and pushed to my feet as the attorneys passed me.
Max stopped at my side and pressed a quick kiss to my lips before turning to Todd. "Did you have trouble rescheduling any of next week's meetings?"
"No, sir. Your schedule's clear, but since the press conference, you've received several interview requests." Todd glanced at me. "Both of you, actually. I left the messages on your desk."
"Thank you, Todd," Max said. "Bree and I will be leaving shortly, and we won't be in until after lunch tomorrow. That means, I don't want you here until after lunch, either. I know how many extra hours you put in last night and today. Don't you think for one second that dedication has gone unnoticed."
"It's nothing, sir," Todd responded. "I'm just glad I can help."
"It was much more than nothing." Max paused for only a heartbeat. "Your son still playing T-ball?"
"Yes, sir. He has a game tomorrow night." Todd's voice changed timbre ever so slightly, pride combined with excitement.
Also, Todd had a kid?
"This weekend," Max continued, "I believe the Rangers are having a double hitter, and I'd hate for my suite to go unused. Take Scott and Dean and make a day out of it. I'll even call Jon and see what I can do about letting Dean run the bases before the game… maybe even hang out in the dugout a bit."
Todd started to shake his head. "I couldn't accept—"
"Of course, you can, and you will."
The pair went back and forth a few more times before Todd finally accepted Max's offer.
The moment we were alone, the same awkwardness from this morning descended on us. It had been easy to pretend everything was okay while we were actually trying to pretend everything was okay. But now, there was no one else to pretend for. It was just the two of us and all the things we needed to say standing between us.
"I didn't know Todd had a kid," I said, when the silence had stretched on too long and I just couldn't stand it a second longer.
"Yeah. A five-year-old boy, Dean. Cute kid. I met him last year at the company Christmas party."
"And what about the other one?"
Max cocked an eyebrow at me. "Other one?"
"Other son… Scott."
"Oh." Max chuckled. "Scott isn't Todd's son. Scott's his husband."
"Wait, what?" I shook my head. "Todd's married and he has a kid? Wow. I mean, we weren't the best of friends, obviously, but I had no clue."
Max shrugged. "Todd's a very private person. When he's at work, it's all about his work. He's dedicated, and he keeps the drama at home. It's part of what I like about him and why I pay him so well."
"Ya think you know a guy."
Max smiled. "Speaking of family, would you like for me to send for your mom? I got the feeling when you were on the phone with her earlier that you wanted to see her. Was I wrong?"
I shook my head. My relationship with my mother was complicated, but she'd sounded so worried about me. Then, she'd mentioned seeing strange cars parked outside her home, and I hadn't liked the sound of that.
"You'd do that for me?" I asked.
"Of course. Without a doubt."
"I'd love that, Max. Thank you."
I let my emotions guide my actions as I wrapped my arms around his middle, cheek nestled against his solid chest, and just held him, just let him hold me. This wasn't an embrace born out of a desperate need for comfort or a strategic embrace meant to further the narrative Angela had set out. No, this was just Max with his arms around me, the way he used to do before everything had gone sideways.
"Max, about what you said earlier…" I didn't lift my head. "…did you really pencil in our wedding for next February? Or were you just play-acting and—"
"No, Bree, I wasn't just play-acting. Not entirely, anyway."
"So, you don't want to marry me?"
"I didn't say that?"
"Then you do want to marry me?"
"I didn't say that, either" He tucked his index finger beneath my chin and tilted my face to his. "I love you, and I plan to keep on loving you for a really, really long time. Can we just leave it at that until the rest of this mess settles down?"
"I just—"
The intercom buzzed.
He linked our hands, walked to his desk, and pressed the button that connected him with Todd. "Yes."
"Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I thought you'd want to turn on the news. Channel Five."
Lead dropped into the pit of my stomach. If Todd thought Max needed to see something on the news, it was likely abo
ut the man himself—and, unfortunately, me, too.
Max flicked on the TV in the corner and turned to Channel Five. A familiar, dark-skinned woman was speaking.
"A source at Whitecliff International has confirmed the multi-billion-dollar global powerhouse is dissolving one of its fashion companies, Dubois Fashions. Also, this source confirms that Mr. Penn is planning to file multiple lawsuits against the company's CEO and namesake, Giselle Dubois. While still unconfirmed, the source believes the dissolving of Dubois Fashions and the legal action against its CEO are in direct retaliation for what now appear to be misleading leaks concerning Mr. Penn's significant other, Breanne Jennings."
I tightened my hand around Max's, hope sparking in my chest. "They used my name, Max. They used my name. Not Janet."
"I heard." He wrapped both arms around me and tugged me close.
"Given the timing of the events," the reporter continued, "our source believes Ms. Dubois was responsible for the damaging leaks against Ms. Jennings. We've reached out to personnel at Dubois Fashions for comment, but so far, our queries have gone unanswered. This is a breaking story, and we will report additional information as it becomes available."
I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "The media linked everything, just like Angela predicted."
Max muted the TV. "They did, and the tide seems to be turning. It's too soon to know for sure, but this is a good sign." He pointed toward his desk. "Tonight, we should go over all those interview requests. Then, later, we'll talk them over with Angela. We'll let her pick the ones that'll likely be the friendliest, and we'll keep building this momentum. I told you everyone would love you when they got to know you."
"I don't know if I'd go so far as to say they love me."
"Well, I love you. That counts for something, right?"
He'd said it tongue-in-cheek. At least, he'd made it sound that way, but I knew him. He was asking where things stood between us, where they really stood.
I pressed a palm to his cheek. It was a good question; one to which I knew what I wanted the answer to be. Max had made mistakes. He'd kept things from me, and true, our situations—our secrets—were not on the same level, but I'd kept things from him, too.
But mistakes aside, I loved this man. God, I loved him. Things would have to change. I knew that. But did he?
"You can't keep your past from me anymore, Max," I murmured. "If you want this to work out between us, we have to be open and honest. We need the emotional and intellectual parts of our relationship to be as open and honest as the sexual component."
Which was true. When it came to sex, the entire foundation of our Dom/sub relationship was built on honesty and complete openness. It wouldn't have thrived otherwise. If I'd have kept my mouth closed and just let him do whatever he wanted to me, even if I hadn't wanted it or been genuinely ready for it, our sexual relationship would have become toxic. That same breed of toxicity was developing between us emotionally right now, and if things didn't change, it would destroy us.
"I know." Max closed his eyes and, wrapping me close, buried his face in my neck. "There're things in my past. Things no one save Garrett and Karen know. Bad things. Things, I'm afraid, will color the way you see me forever. It's the only thing that scares me more than losing you."
"Max…"
But I didn't know what to say. I knew his past was a minefield, but the anguish in his voice when he spoke about it always tore me up. And that was just when he spoke abstractly. How much worse would things get when he spoke of the details that still so obviously taunted him?
Part of me didn't want to push the matter; causing Max pain was never something I wanted, but his past had already nearly cost us everything. Twice. Both times, I'd been entirely unprepared for the battle I was facing, and I couldn't go through something like that again.
"I won't ask you for details tonight," I said. "I won't ask you tomorrow. We'll get through this, and I'll let you take the lead. I'll let you tell me when you're ready, on your terms—but with one caveat." I pulled back and forced him to look me in the eye. "You can't draw this out, okay?"
After what felt like forever, he nodded. "As soon as all this settles down, we'll go away, just like we planned."
"Thank you. And Max…" I pushed onto the tips of my toes and stopped when my lips were inches from his. "You know I love you, too, right?"
Max, my lover, my Sir, pressed his lips to mine. "Let's go home."
I lifted my leg from the water, beads of chlorinated liquid rolling along my skin. After the past two days from hell, sitting in Max's hot tub—in Max's arms—just might be the cure for everything that ailed me. The fact he was naked against me as I soaked my troubles away was an incredible bonus.
I loved Max's monstrous pool room. The space, like the rest of his house, was a gorgeous mixture of the outdoors brought indoors. Three of the four walls were made of stone, with the far wall being little more than an archway of glass that left the space open to the outdoors. A T-shaped pool stretched through the room, reminding me of the Venice canals. Purple and pink lights shimmered beneath the water, giving the surface the same color as the sky at sunset. In the center of the pool was a curved bar area, complete with barstools rising from the water. And then, there was the hot tub.
I sunk deeper into the heated water. We hadn't talked about his guarded past since leaving his office, but we had a generalized plan. That was enough for tonight. He was right; we had enough on our hands doing public damage control. Emotional damage control would come next. I'd see to it. Although, I had a feeling, the past few days had done more to convince Max we needed to be honest with each other than any argument I could have conceived.
"Thank you again for sending your plane for my mom," I said.
My mother had been positively floored when I told her my billionaire boyfriend was sending his private jet to pick her up at the airport, but she'd been pleased, too. Our relationship was complicated, to say the least, but after being in the media's crosshairs, I'd gotten a terrifying glimpse of what it must have been like for her during my father's trial. It was a topic I planned to discuss with her at length; I was already making a list of all the apologies I needed to give her. How she managed to make it through everything while dealing with a stunned, bratty, obnoxious kid who'd acted out because she hadn't understood the gravity of the situation, I had no fucking clue.
"Think nothing of it, my sweet." He kissed the side of my neck. "I was happy to do it."
"And you really don't mind her staying here? If she's anything like me, she'll take one look at this place and never leave."
He chuckled. "This is practically your home at this point, too. Actually, it can be your home now. If you want."
I spun around so Max and I were face to face, needing to see his eyes, to read his expression. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"
"I am." He cupped a hand around the back of my neck. "I love you, Bree, and now that our relationship is public, I'm all in. You're my future."
Floored didn't even begin to describe the erratic river of emotions flowing through me. Max loved me. That fact alone was something a good part of me was still trying to get my head around. To know that he maybe-kind-of-sort-of wanted to marry me, too, left me dazzled. But for some reason, knowing he wanted me to officially move in with him, to literally share my life with him, hit me with all the subtly of a brick to the side of my head.
I touched his cheeks. Oh, part of me wanted to jump at his offer—a large, very loud and vocal part of me—but the other part, why'd the other part have to be so rational and grounded?
I'd probably thank that part later, wouldn't I?
"I want to, Max. I really do. I want us to move past this hurt—together—but we can't skip steps this time. That's what put us in this situation to begin with. We kept secrets, and our secrets almost broke us. We need to own that. We both need to own the fact that we still have secrets and fix them. Let's make us stronger, and then, we can step forward, hand in hand, into a future
where our pasts can no longer hurt us."
He looked as if I'd stabbed him in the heart.
I pressed my forehead to his. "I love you, Max. I have for so long." I used his words from earlier. "And I plan to keep on loving you for a really, really, really long time."
He took my mouth in a hard, frantic kiss. In one heartbeat to the next, I went from being straddled on his lap to spread open on the side of the hot tub. And then, he was hard and moving inside me.
I gasped at the feel of being so suddenly and possessively claimed, and then, I was gasping at the bliss of having Sir's cock stroking so powerfully inside me. His face was buried against my neck again, hiding his face from me as he fucked me, but I was done with the hiding.
I trusted him to hold me tight as I released my death grip on the side of the hot tub and fit my hands on both sides of his face. I tugged until we were eye to eye, heart to heart.
His blue eyes were dark and wild, uncontrolled and unfamiliar. Control and my Sir went hand in hand, but not here, not tonight.
I kept my eyelids from closing, fighting the climax building in my core as I watched Max slowly come undone. Broken and beautiful, he was the most precious person in my life—he was also the source of my greatest pain. And pleasure. He was everything I wanted, but he was also the one person capable of hurting me the most. He should be impossible.
My eyelids fluttered closed as the first hints of my orgasm teased to life, but I forced them back open. I didn't want to miss a second. I gasped and held Max tighter. I clenched the inner muscles of my sex around his cock, heightening the sensation.
Max groaned and pounded harder into me. His breath turned ragged and unsteady, as did his thrust. I didn't know how long we stayed locked in the precipice of orgasm or who came first, but suddenly, we were both falling. And through it all, our gazes never broke.
Minutes or hours or a millennium ticked by, but neither of us moved. We stayed locked together in the beautiful open air of Max's pool house until his ringing cell phone fractured the moment.
Not releasing me, he cursed under his breath as he glanced toward the sound. "It's Angela calling us back," he said as he released me back into the warm water and then reached for his brand-new phone from where it sat on the table beside the hot tub. He'd gone all Hulk and smashed his last one when he'd thrown it.