Mr. Satisfaction

by Jackson, Brenda

  “You’ve been behind this?” She felt calm, almost too calm.

  For several seconds, he said nothing, then, “I own Brackson, Inc., but I can explain—”

  She whipped the envelope at him, the action imploding the calmness and unleashing an anger like she’d never felt. “Explain?” she yelled. Rufus scrambled out of the room, and Max stood his ground as she stormed toward him. “Exactly five days after your company put my father out of business, he tried to take his life! Explain that!”

  She shoved hard at his chest, but he barely moved. “Did you have to take the last thing that was holding his sanity together? Why did you do it? For revenge?”

  His eyes were as black as obsidian. “I was looking for justice.”

  “Justice?” she managed in a whisper. The single word plunged like a surgical blade into her heart and lodged there. She somehow managed to force the sharp pain into a disbelieving laugh. “For what?”

  “Business is a dog-eat-dog world. Sometimes there is no middle ground. It was a matter of survival.”

  Shauna felt the words sinking into her brain like stones into deep waters. “But why?” she asked lamely.

  His hand reached out to touch her and then lowered when she flinched away. “I know all about not having anything, Shauna. Lord knows gardening wasn’t much, but it put food on the table and a roof over me and my mother’s head. When I had enough money to be a player in the land development business, your father did everything he could to discredit me. And it wasn’t the first time. I did what I had to do to save my family. I was sure I would be there to rescue you from any impact, but you disappeared.”

  The following silence was clogged with conflicting thoughts of betrayal and passion.

  “God, last night.”

  “Last night had nothing to do with this,” he said firmly.

  She shook her head, baring her soul. “I made love to you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Max closed his eyes, and a frown fleeted across his brow, but when he opened them, he still didn’t elaborate.

  Suddenly Shauna knew she had to get out of there before it was too late. “I have to go.”

  If he objected, she didn’t stick around to hear it. She hurried to the bathroom, locked the door behind her, and leaned against it, her throat clogged tight and her vision blurred with unshed tears. She rubbed a hand over her chest. “Dammit… dammit…” One teardrop trickled down her cheek, and another followed. Without looking in the mirror, Shauna wiped angrily at her cheeks then went to the sink and splashed water on her face.

  How could he do that to her? Why?

  Finally facing her reflection, she looked into her red-rimmed eyes and vowed not to think about it until she was out the door. She quickly dressed and as an afterthought threw on her shades.

  The walk to the kitchen was ten times harder than when she’d walked to his hotel room door, half-naked, with only her passion and fragile love.

  Max was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his front pockets, his gaze the only thing that pleaded with her.

  She grabbed her purse and overnight bag then stormed out the front door, but he grabbed her wrist. “Shauna, please listen—”

  “Don’t!” She snatched her hand away and escaped, slamming the door behind her.

  She fumbled the keys when she tried to unlock her car, but once inside, she shoved the car into gear and tore out of there, blinking back the blurriness of tears.

  At the outskirts of town, she had to pull over, leaning her forehead on the steering wheel and finally allowing the tears to fall.

  6

  Max stared at the money that Shauna had sent via a special delivery service. She’d sent cash in crisp, neat bills. Even the loose change was there, bright and shiny.

  A single piece of plain paper had the words, “For towing and mechanical fixes.”

  He jerked his chair back and went to look out his window to where a storm crept on the horizon.

  For five days, he’d been unable to get Shauna out of his mind. Her scent was still on his bathrobe, his pillowcase and lately, it seemed to always be in the wind too.

  His heart ached, his head hurt, and he could hardly stand himself anymore. Sleep was impossible, he found himself snarling at people, wanting to be alone, when all he really wanted and needed to make his life livable again was her!

  Tonight was it, he decided. He’d called several times to talk to her, but he always ended up with her voice mail. He’d hoped to give her some time to dull the anger a bit, but the week had felt like an eternity.

  Well, he wasn’t going to let the past repeat itself like it had five years ago. He wasn’t going to let her walk away from this without a fight.

  Tonight he was going to beg for her forgiveness and do whatever he had to, promise her whatever she needed, as long as she would smile at him again.

  __________

  AT TEN O’CLOCK on a Saturday night, the Dangling Hook was a thunderous, bumping joint. The crowds around the bar and dance floor were so tight, she was making a killing on tips, even if the fool at table three had pinched her butt. The next time she headed in that direction, she was going to simply drop the drinks in his lap.

  She called out her order to the bartender as she cleared out her tray and tucked her pen behind her ear. A haunting feeling … something like her whispered name, flittered up her spine and reached her ears. As she turned, she intuitively knew who’d be there.

  Sure enough, Max stood almost across the room, the light from the revolving dance floor lights played across his face, not quite revealing his eyes.

  He made his way to her before the bartender had finished with her orders. “You’re a hard person to get a hold of,” he said, standing next to her.

  “I’m busy.”

  “I can see that.” He held out a bouquet of pink and red roses. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t reach for them.

  He placed them beside her tray. “I’ll wait until your shift is up.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m in no mood for company anyway. Go home, Mr. Jackson.”

  “Not unless you’re coming with me.”

  One of the drinks sloshed over as she hurried to get them on her tray. Then, barely sparing him a glance, she hefted the tray and headed out.

  “I’ll be waiting,” he said to her back.

  And true to his word, he did stay. And if her guess was right, he nursed the same beer all night. He’d moved only on two separate occasions, to have a talk with a guy who had flirted outrageously with her and then passed her his phone number, and another guy who’d had the nerve to try to get her to dance. Both guys had backed down from whatever Max had said, then left right away.

  Jason, the bartender, had planted her roses in an empty can of coffee, then winked at her when she scowled at him.

  “The man brought you roses.” He nodded toward Max. “Go talk to him.”

  She sighed. “Swear to God, I don’t need you harassing me about this.”

  “You’ve been in the dumps for a solid week. It’s time to give it up,” he said, wiping the same nonexistent spot on the counter. “For the love of God, the man has an incredible ass. I could bounce a quarter offa that. If you make him bend for any reason, I’ll give you a raise.”

  That made her laugh. “Get your own man.”

  “Aha!” Jason wagged a finger at her. “You admit he’s your man, then?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Want me to find out if he’s got some not-so-straight friends for you?”

  “Don’t be bitchy.”

  “Jason, stop meddling.”

  “You’ve got a ten-minute break coming. Go on, take it.”

  “I make more money serving drinks in ten minutes than sitting on my behind.”

  “Like I said, ten minutes,” he said, suddenly becoming the no-nonsense boss again. “Starting now.”

  The next waitress came by shouting her order, and Shauna had to move over. She didn’t have to check to know that Max was still there, still wa
iting.

  With a sigh, she headed in his direction.

  Max immediately stood to give up his barstool, and Shauna took the opportunity to drop her pen. “Oops.”

  He bent to retrieve it. From the bar, Jason grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Max handed her the pen back and she tucked it back into her apron, careful not to touch him at any time.

  God, he was a sight for sore eyes, even if he still made her heart feel raw. She tried not to be affected by his haggard look.

  “You wanted to talk, so talk,” she said firmly. “You have one minute.”

  “One minute won’t cut it. I’ll wait until your shift is up.”

  “The same will still apply. Just say what you came to say, and be done with it.”

  “Not like this.”

  “Whatever.” She stood and almost screeched in surprise when his arm snaked around her waist.

  “Give me half an hour.”

  His arm was firm and warm, and she could smell his familiar aftershave. Her breasts reacted immediately. “Go home, Mr. Jackson.”

  His fingers twitched at her waist. “No.”

  “You’re wasting your time.” She tugged his arm away. “Now quit harassing me, stop threatening the clientele, and go home. ”

  The imprint of his touch around her waist burned her for the rest of the night.

  7

  Despite Jason’s nagging, Shauna finished her shift early and snuck out the back door, taking her coffee can of roses with her.

  Ever since it had been repaired, the car rode like it glided on air and she could actually hear her radio, which had been drowned out by the squeaks and rattles from before.

  It was a short drive to her apartment, but the two red lights along the way made it seem like an eternity.

  Her apartment was especially tranquil after the ruckus of the bar. She set her roses on her small kitchen table and threw her purse and keys on the coffee table. Because moving had been such a hassle, she’d gone with the minimalist look, which meant her futon was mostly a bed instead of a couch and the walls were painted but without pictures.

  She kicked her shoes off and raided the fridge for the fruit salad she’d packed in there that morning. Halfway through the bowl of fruit, she heard a knock on her door and knew—just knew!—who it would be.

  The peephole revealed Max looking right back at her. “I know you’re there,” he said calmly. “Let me in, please.”

  How had he found out where she lived?

  “Go. Away.” She double-checked that the door was locked and then peeked again, trying to hold down the longing that flooded her heart at the sight of him. He looked tired and handsome and at the edge of his patience, but she was feeling too vulnerable to take him on tonight.

  Rubbing her temples, she turned away, grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and turned the TV on loud enough so it would drown out the sounds of Max knocking.

  In the bathroom, she stripped and stepped in the shower, letting the water rain over her. She stayed under the spray of hot water until the room had steamed up, the few straggling tears had fallen, and she was sure she’d be able to sleep again.

  Finally toweled off, she bundled up in her robe, then stopped halfway into her living room when she noticed the television was off. She almost screamed to find Max sitting on her futon, his hands clasped between his legs, glancing at her over the bouquet of his roses that sat between them.

  “How did you get in here?” she asked, anger leaking into her tone. “A little trick I learned back in the day.”

  His nonchalant comment drove her anger up several notches. “Breaking and entering is a crime. If you don’t leave in the next minute, I’m calling the cops.”

  He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets, his eyes reflecting both pain and ruthlessness.

  “I know,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I have no right to be here. No right to break in to see you. No right to want you still, but here I am.”

  She crossed her arms and tried to ignore the rush his words were giving her. “You could’ve told me you owned Brackson.”

  “You could’ve told me you were a virgin.”

  “One has nothing to do with the other! Sex is just sex.”

  “No, it isn’t. Just like business isn’t always business. I was young and driven. Yes, I wanted your father to pay, but I wanted to hit him just hard enough to break his hold on us, not to disrupt your lives to the extent that I did. I couldn’t anticipate that my plan would go further than I’d expected.”

  “Well, you almost killed him in the name of business.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? It’s been eating me up for years.” He gaze locked with hers, his eyes hard. “But aren’t you also mad at your father, Shauna?”

  “Oh, no. This is about you.” She could feel her anger splinter deeper, into something she didn’t want to define. “Am I also part of the deal, Max? Did sleeping with me give you revenge points? God, I made it so easy!”

  His eyes narrowed. “I hurt you. Lord knows I did. And I’m so sorry. More than you know. But the way your father did business, it was inevitable. Why don’t you admit that you’re also a bit angry at your father? Come on, Shauna, the man turned your world inside out!”

  “He’s my father!”

  The hues in his eyes shifted to shadows, and he simply looked at her, as if he wished he could take her pain away. “I did what I had to do, for my mother and my own financial survival. I convinced myself a million times that your father would protect you, somehow. Whether I chose to survive by taking your father down, is not the issue, is it? You’re angry with me because you blame me for his death.”

  “Yes!” God! The wave of undeniable truth washed over her, leaving behind remnants of anger. Disappointment. Regret. But most of all, such sadness.

  Seconds flittered by, but she didn’t bother hiding her pain from Max.

  “Oh, babe … ,” he murmured. Suddenly, he moved toward her. “No.” She instinctively took a step back, then another, until the wall was against her back.

  “Stop right there,” she demanded shakily. “Don’t move another step!

  He kept coming until a mere inch separated them. His arms braced against the wall by her head, caging her in. Everything about him—all the familiar scents and textures of him—tangled up her thoughts, muddling them.

  “I’m sorry. I hurt you and I’m sorry… . I’ve missed you like crazy,” he said, sounding like it hurt him to admit it.

  “I don’t care.”

  Max exhaled. “What about you? Are you happy living here?” Shauna felt a sudden pride for her sparse apartment, for her outdated clothes and tight bank account. “As a matter of fact, I like it.”

  She was surprised to see Max’s unexpected smile. “Yeah. Me too.” Her heart gave a little tug, against her will.

  “What about us?” he asked softly.

  “There is no us,” she managed to say. “Just… sex.” She felt trapped in the solemn defiance of his eyes.

  “Liar.”

  She looked away, but when he touched her cheek, she reached to touch his chest, bluffing for all she was worth. “Really? Seems to me you only wanted sex last weekend. Is that why you’re here? Do you want sex now?”

  Now he looked ticked off, but she ignored it and boldly ran her hand over the cotton of his shirt.

  “Shauna, I came for you.”

  “For sex.” Still looking at the masculine lines of his neck, she bridged the space between them and kissed his lower jaw, following up with a little lick.

  “Don’t do this,” he said tersely.

  “You want it,” she whispered back, snuggling closer to run her hands up his spine. “There’s no shame in it, Max. It’s just sex, right? Don’t you want it?”

  His breath caressed her cheek. “Not it. You,” he growled in another whisper. “I’ll always want you.”

  Instead of victory, his words stung and left her feeling empty.

  She avoided looking up at him
while she unbuttoned his shirt to run her hands over his firm flesh. His muscular chest was exactly how she remembered it, and she spread her hands to feel his steady heartbeat, remembering when it had nestled between her breasts.

  “What’s the point in winning if you can’t enjoy the prize, Max?” She moved her touch to his back, pushing her body into him and nuzzling his ear.

  He used one hand to tip her face up, studying her for a while. Her eyes felt tight with emotion, but she was almost certain that none of it showed.

  “Like I said, I want you,” he repeated. “You. Not sex.”

  She lowered her hands and undid the belt of her robe, letting it fall apart, then moved his hand from her face and guided it to her waist. Deep inside, she trembled for him, with desire for him, with anger for herself for wanting him so much.

  “There is still one kind of sex you haven’t shown me. Breakup sex. It’s supposedly the best sex, right?” she looked up from where his hand rested to the clashing emotions in his eyes. “Make it unforgettable.”

  He shook his head, anger and hurt brewing in his eyes.

  “Come on, for old times’ sake,” she taunted. “It’s the only thing I want from you.”

  Instead of moving away as she’d expected, his hand slowly moved up to reverently cover her breast, “I’ll give you what you want, Shauna, but it won’t be enough. I hope the memory will be enough.”

  He kissed her before she could reply, his mouth moving tenderly, stirring a bittersweet ache inside her that threatened to grow into a full-fledged panic.

  No! On reflex, she bit his bottom lip hard enough that he reared back, but not enough to draw blood.

  Immediately swamped by regret, she kissed him before he could protest, covering his mouth while he was still stunned.

  The mood switched like lightning, and he returned the assault, kissing her back hard, pushing her against the wall with his body as he lifted her with his arms. She wrapped her legs around his hips, grinding against the fistlike bulge of his testicles, riding the length of his erection as he rocked against her.

  She submitted to the volatile desire, climbing him, kissing and clutching him until his jeans sagged down to his knees and his cranked cock bunted against her vagina.