by Adair Rymer
The crowd shifted their attention to where Maynard was looking. Bianca was in the spotlight now. Not even she could contain her surprise at the turn of events. In the movies this would've been the moment where everyone cheered as the estranged brother and sister reunited.
Embarrassed, Bianca said nothing in response. She simply walked out of the room. I'd never seen so many people, so quiet before. A pin could've dropped and everyone would have heard it. Was this genuine? Could a self absorbed man like Maynard truly change that much?
“Like I said,” Maynard broke the uneasy silence. “Whether it was something as big as winning an academy award or something as small as a brotherly gesture, we've all done great and difficult things this year. We could stop there and be proud of our accomplishments. Or we can do a little bit more and be proud of others accomplishments.”
“I'll be donating all profits off the sale of this hotel to charity, in the form of student grants. Our fans and community have given us so much. It's time to give a little back.” By now, Maynard had everyone eating out of his hands. “Let's help more kids go to school.”
I'd only seen Maynard as a playboy, albeit one that was frustratingly difficult to figure out. And yet, this was another side of him that I hadn't expected.
Maynard cooper was full of surprises.
Maynard switched gears to more of a planner and organizer after that. I didn't know if an act like this was large enough to constitute making history, but rallying the rich and entitled to do anything was no easy feat. I wanted to go to him and congratulate him, but he was mobbed with celebrities that either wanted to donate, or wanted to be seen donating.
I was content to just watch him and wait. It was hard to look at him the same way after that speech. He seemed so much denser than he was before, like he was a gray-scale cartoon character that suddenly received rich, and vibrant color.
Was this really hiding within him the whole time? How could I have been so wrong about Maynard?
My cell buzzed, pulling me from my adoration.
It was a text from Chance. It read, 'Back hallway now. Or I make a scene and ruin your boyfriend's jerk off speech.'
My good mood deflated. I couldn't let that happen. Not when Maynard had achieved something so wonderful. Once I saw him with Bianca, part of me knew that I'd have to face him eventually.
Chance texted me the exact area. I didn't bother replying to that message either. It skeeved me out that he wanted me to leave the party. Chance never hit me while we were dating, but he did get rough every once in a while. I would tentatively go, but if it looked like a sketchy, secluded area I sure as hell wasn't staying.
I left the ballroom and opened up the nearest service door. Hotel staff bustled busily along the long, bare corridors, carrying beer or food. There were so many employees running around that it was hard to stay out of their way.
At least I didn't have to worry about being alone with Chance.
Chance leaned against the wall, near one of the kitchens. He was pestering one of the overworked servers to stop and make him a mixed drink. The server had a case of beer in each arm. The man looked exhausted, but he hesitantly agreed to Chance's request, then scurried off.
I shook my head at the exchange. Consideration for others was a foreign concept to Chance. The world was there to serve him.
He was such a stark contrast to Maynard. His long hair was parted to the side and tucked behind his ears, he wasn't as shredded as Maynard, but he was still lean and toned enough to be on the cover of a Men's Health magazine.
Chance was so handsome that it was easy to overlook his flaws. I always felt like he was out of my league, like I was lucky to even be with him. Thinking back I could see now that he made me think that way with little comments that he just wrote off as him being funny or making jokes. That was probably how he treated all his the girls he leached off of.
“What do you want?” I asked him, flatly, when I got within casual talking distance. I wasn't one of those girls. Not anymore.
He smiled at me, rolling himself off the wall in way that kicked his crotch forward. “I never got the chance to apologize to you.” He stepped forward, but stopped when I stepped back. Chance held up his open palms in a gesture that said he came in peace. “I didn't mean to hurt you, Claire-bear.”
Hurt me? “You put me in crippling debt, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“And I'm super sorry for that. Things were crazy when we got together.” His forehead wrinkled in concerned, apologetic lines. His eyes were a mix of sadness and shame. One look at him and you could believe that he was remorseful. “You know about my moms, and how she was sick. Listen I screwed up, OK? I just want to make it right.”
A hotel employee pushed a large cart up the hallway. God, this was the most inconvenient place to talk. Why the hell did he bring me here. To get out of the woman's way, Chance and I stepped to one side. Chance used the opportunity to get even closer to me.
“How could you possibly make it right? Do you have a check for ten-thousand dollars handy?” I snapped the words out.
Chance was close enough for me to pick up his scent, it was a faint musty pine aroma. It was a hard smell to forget, after he left me I slept with a hoodie of his that he left behind. I poured a lot of myself into the relationship to make it work, and when he left I was devastated.
“Not on me. I mean, c'mon, I don't shit money like all these other assholes. Just give me a little time and I'll pay you back and then some. I miss you, babe.” Chance ran a finger down my forearm.
How many times had I folded when he uttered those words? How often had that look he was giving me right now, made me cave and give him one more chance? He would stroll back into my life like no time had past and soon enough he'd have burrowed his way into my heart and into my bed.
I jerked my arm away like there was a snake slithering down it. “And you can keep missing me.” I watched the compassion and remorse in his face slip just a little. I knew now that he was never really sorry, he only said what he thought I wanted to hear. “What? I just forgive you? Then what? You drag me into a storage closet and fuck my brains out?”
“It's not like that, Claire-bear. I've changed.” The sincerity on Chance's face was so damn convincing. The wounded part of me screamed out to say yes, to take him back again and make that pain go away. “I did some soul searching and—”
“You are so full of shit.” That wounded part of me wasn't in control anymore.
I thought about Maynard. How he made himself vulnerable in front of hundreds of important people when he appealed to his sister. Then how he publicly announced his charity plan. Maynard wasn't doing that to please anyone, he wasn't looking to use that gesture to exploit something. Words followed by deeds, that was how a man changes.
“Babe, don't throw away what we—”
“There is no we.” The word rotted in my mouth like bile. “Your sugar-coated words won't work on me, not anymore.” I had no idea if there was anything real between me and Maynard, but I did know that I was completely done with Chance.
It was time to go back to the party.
A hand clamped tightly around my wrist, the pain was instant and intense.
“Don't you dare walk away from me.” The mask Chance wore was gone now. His eyes were dull and angry. The scowl on his lips made his handsome features take on a nasty edge. He looked dangerous. “I won't lose you to some rich cocksucker.”
“Is that all I am to you? A trophy? Your damaged pride wont give me up, because you can't handle that someone else is better than you?”
“Fuck him. You think he's so great because he's fucking millionaire, or whatever. He's obviously overcompensating.” His anger diffused into disgust. “I never realized how shallow you were, Claire. I thought you were better than that.”
Chance was just being cruel, but that didn't stop his words from stinging me. We were together for months, he knew my insecurities far too well. “I guess not.” I spat the words. “And Maynard has a bigge
r cock than you.”
“There you are.” Maynard casually walked up the hallway toward us. How on earth did he find me! “I went to ask you for a dance and you were gone. And you,” He addressed Chance. “You need to leave.”
“Fuck off, pal.” Chance released my wrist and walked toward Maynard, shoving a staff member out of the way. “You don't even own this place anymore.”
Maynard checked his watch. “For the next ten minutes, I do.” Maynard looked at me to see if I was hurt, there was actual concern on his face. I rubbed my bruised wrist, but otherwise I was fine. Maynard turned back to Chance, everything drained from his strong face, except anger. “Leave. Now.”
“I'm not afraid of you, rich boy.” Chance got dangerously close to Maynard. “What are you going to do about it?”
A sharp smile flashed briefly across Maynard's face, then there was a blur of motion. My heart lurched into my throat as I watched both men move. Chance went for a shove, but Maynard's punch was too quick. Heavy knuckles struck Chance's jaw, dropping him.
“Jesus!” I gasped. Maynard stepped over Chance, rubbing the impact from hand. “Are you OK?”
“Better than him.” We both looked at Chance, laid out on the floor. Wetness spread over the front of his pants. Chance was only unconscious until he hit the floor, but that momentary lose of control caused him to piss himself.
Good, serves Chance right. Try to hide behind your cool-guy mask with your pants soaked through with urine!
“How'd you find me?” This place was way to big to just stumble across someone.
“When I saw you leave, I had the staff keep an eye out for you.” Maynard had one of the startled waitstaff call for the security guards and a few minutes later three men ran over and got Chance to his feet. “When I heard you were talking to some prick demanding mixed drinks in the back hall, I figured I should check it out.”
“Did you get jealous?” I couldn't stop the smile from creeping across my lips.
Maynard licked his teeth and put an arm around my shoulders. I didn't move to stop him. “Yes.”
The blatant admission made my ribs quiver. I looked away as he led me back to the party, so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing my smile eat half my face.
What did it say about him that he came after me when he thought I might be in trouble? Was he just returning the favor of me going to him at the balcony or was it something more?
“Maynard, your hand!” It was only when I felt something wet through my shirt that I realized he was bleeding. He quickly pulled the hand away, but little red dots had already ruined my white shirt. “Do you you have an EMT here?”
Maynard looked at it, but didn't seem to concerned. “It's just a scratch. I have a first aid kit upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” The word slipped from my mouth like smoke. In his home? Was this his invitation? Would I get that tour he teased about earlier?
Maynard looked through me with those thunderstorm eyes. His smile was beckoning. “Come with me.”
Chapter 8
Claire
Maynard's apartment was spacious, and lavishly decorated, but it had a sense of vacant loneliness to it. I had expected the same flashiness as the party below us. For some reason, I thought Maynard would be an eccentric collector, with life-sized jade sculptures and pedestal exhibits.
I was so wrong. The dark-colored throw rugs and curtains gave the place a solemn silence, that wouldn't be out of place in a Tibetan monastery. Maybe it was just the rooms I saw on the way to his master bathroom, but I hoped his whole floor wasn't like this.
Maynard's home looked very private.
“Is that— Are those real?” I paused in the doorway of his office. The lights had turned on automatically as we walked through each room, with the exception of the office. The working area, his desk and computer, was lit by soft ambient lighting, but the back half remained in darkness.
Or it would have been, had there not been a giant glass fish tank lining the entire wall. The hidden blue lights and mirror behind it, gave the whole room an underwater feel.
“The jellyfish are real,” Maynard cocked his head toward the tank, encouraging me to take a closer look. His hand was wrapped in a dishtowel that had bled through. “I'll be right back.”
There must have been twenty jellyfish in there. Crouching down, my hand carelessly reached toward the glass, but I caught myself before I left any fingerprints. Their blue-purple cups would fill with water, then would constrict and gently drift, while long, thin tendrils trailed behind. Watching their near-translucent forms pulse was hypnotizing, and a calmness set over me.
“Beautiful, aren't they?” Maynard's deep voice broke the jellyfish hold on me. How long had I been gazing at them? I looked up at his strong figure through the mirror's blue tinted reflection. His hand was bandaged, but his vest was gone now and I still wore his jacket. All that left him with was his white shirt and black pants.
After he spoke I no longer noticed the jellyfish; Maynard's steamy image was slowly burning itself onto my eyeballs. I got up to face him not realizing how close he was standing behind me. I was nearly sandwiched between him and the glass. Our bodies were so close that the pleated fabric of my skirt grazed against his pants.
He caught my eyes flick down to the exposed ink from his chest piece tattoo. The top of an extensive tribal design was visible through the unbuttoned neck of his shirt.
“You want a closer look?” Maynard deftly popped four buttons open, allowing me to see more of the intricate, black design. “Touch it.”
“What is it?” My hand was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I ran a finger down his hard chest, peeling back the fabric. What was I doing?
This! A part of me roared, this is exactly what you said you wouldn't do!
Maynard Cooper was supposed to be a naughty mistake that I remembered fondly, but never, ever made again. Was I afraid that he was just another Chance? Someone to use me up and throw me away? I didn't want to be another notch on some jerk's bedpost.
My other hand pulled the shirt off of one of his shoulders, revealing his nipple and sculpted bicep. My heart thumped quicker, egging my fingers on as they traced the deep grooves of his muscles.
“Nothing,” he said smoothly. “Organized chaos. The individual line work is complex, but the pattern as a whole is simple.” The touch of his hand shocked me as it crested my lower back. Knowing he felt my sharp inhale made me blush. He leaned in and smelled my neck. The motion rioted my skin into a million pinpricks.
What was I so afraid of? In the short time I'd known Maynard I'd seen the hints of a transformation. It was easy to write him off as just another rich asshole, but that wasn't right. He wasn't that person, or maybe deep down he never was. Maybe there was always a good man buried behind that selfish, arrogant mask and he just needed help bringing it out.
The unworthiness that Chance put into me flared to life. It was still hard to believe that I was even here. Who was I to party with gods? Then to ascend even higher with Maynard...
Maynard swept me into him. Our bodies pressed together. His leg was tightly positioned between mine, the heat of his growing cock threatened to light our clothes on fire as it pushed into my pussy.
“You asked what my third rule was.” His lips brushed against mine as he uttered the words.
“And you were too mysterious to tell me.” My response was breathy. I was too turned on to play coy. I wanted him.
“Never bring girls home.” Maynard kissed me with the abandon of a man who was breaking all his own rules. Sharp thrills zapped through me and I finally understood why he got so strange in the elevator. The realization stopped my breathing for a moment.
My God, this wasn't just another hook up. This really was special.
My leg bent and raised with the growing intensity of his kiss. I let his strength hold me up. His angle forward was one that couldn't get enough of. It pressed my shoulders into the glass behind me. The tank's chill tightened the muscles in my cor
e. I used that to grind against him even more.
Everything felt so laid bare, so honest. I tore his shirt off, all my hesitance, all my insecurity, all of it was gone. This time I wanted all of him, everything that he could give me. I didn't know what would happen after this but I didn't care.
Tonight he wouldn't be a mistake.
Suddenly he pulled away. Maynard's chest rose and fell in great heaves, his eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
“What is it?” My forehead crinkled in worry. Had I done something to upset him?
“Twelve-O-five. It's Christmas.” The way he said that was incredibly leading. I smiled looking around for mistletoe, but there wasn't any. A wicked smile flashed across his perfect teeth. “Time to unwrap my present.”
Unwrap his present? The thought barely had time to process, before I felt his hands on the collar of my white blouse. Elegant black buttons exploded in every direction.
“Fuck!” I cried, smiling deeply.
Maynard didn't notice my shock, he just crouched to one knee and flexed his massive muscles for a second time. The watery-blue tinted tattoos on his arms and chest seemed to roar with exertion. The buttons all down my long, black skirt shot outward, and with nothing to keep it in place, the destroyed pleated fabric fell away.
The air rushed against my suddenly bare thighs, and licked up the front of my soaked panties. I had never worn an outfit that cost more than a thousand dollars and to have it literally torn from my body was almost indescribable. I don't think I’d ever been wetter in my life.
“Santa got me exactly what I wanted this year.” Maynard looked me over. The blouse hung limply open and the skirt was gone. All that was left was my bra, panties and the black fabric belt, which was even designed to be worn as a bow. “Not bad, for such a naughty boy.”