WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One

by Juliet Braddock

  “Drew,” she managed through gritted teeth, “please…”

  Her cry for his attention, however, left him feeling hopeful on her progress. “Please, what, little one?”

  “Will you, please,” she whispered, reaching out for his hand, “take them...off...”

  A short but devilish laugh rolled from his throat, and his smile was just as wicked. “Your wish—my command, Maxine...”

  Slipping the tiny strip of silk down her thighs, his fingers continued to tease over her knees and calves, and then tickled her ankles before he finally tugged them over her feet. Easing her up to sit, he caught the cloak of confusion and anticipation in Maxine's green eyes, then lifted her dress over her head and tossed it beside the bed. Her bra followed, joining the rest of her clothes on the floor. All the while, Maxine—reveling in her arousal while she drowned in her humiliation—remained acutely aware of the fact that he was still fully clothed.

  Sitting back, Drew bathed her with those blue eyes, his breath catching as he minded the soft swell of her breasts, the tiny taut nipples and the curve of her hips. Urging her legs open once again, he simply sighed. And ever so skillfully, his hand found its way back to where his travels began.

  Maxine leaned back on her elbows. She felt the gentle pressure of his finger—circling, rubbing...pulling—while he cupped her breast, then pushed upward to allow himself easy access to her nipple that he suckled into his greedy mouth. The tug of his lips, the slight nip of his teeth, and the pull of his enticing efforts consumed Maxine and pleasured her nearly as much as his touch. Clutching the duvet beneath her with both hands, she could feel all of her frustrations and pent-up needs awakening under the manipulation of his finger and his lips.

  Writhing against him, Maxine felt a pulse stirring in her tummy, building with his continued determination. As she bucked against him, thrashing about to no avail, that sensation intensified, gripping her gut in the ferocity of her need for release, and radiated to the sweet spot that Drew continued to tease.

  Oh, her own fingers never managed to engage her in so much bliss…

  “You are so close, little one,” his husky voice murmured, tingling against her breast. “Give me your orgasm, Maxine...give it to me...”

  Drew’s order was Maxine’s absolute downfall, obliterating the last of her inhibitions that evening. Her peak—so fast and furious—captured Maxine in this vise of continuous sensation, descending from the tips of her breasts, burrowing into her belly and leaving her trembling in its wake as she unraveled at the mere tips of his fingers.

  “So beautiful...” His lips bore down on Maxine’s mouth savagely, branding her with the mark of his unfulfilled passion for her. “Come for me—only for me, Maxine…”

  Her eyes, so heavy now with a heady mix of exhilaration and exhaustion, opened to find Drew's glare, dazed with a maddening tension that almost frightened her. He held her and kissed her lips so very delicately then, touching her so very cautiously as if he were handling a fine porcelain antique. All the while, he hoped Maxine was still too naive to notice the fears that he struggled to mask—the darker need for control that he sought so desperately to suppress for just one night.

  “You OK, little one?” He tangled kisses in her thick hair that now dangled wild and wispy about her shoulders. She nodded against his chest, and he squeezed her tight to comfort her.

  Burrowing her head against his chest, she admitted, “I never knew my body could feel…so…such…intensity…”

  “It only gets better,” he assured her, helping her back to the pillows for a little rest.

  “Will you make love to me tonight?” she asked with the utmost innocence as she pulled at his shirt collar just as he moved to stand.

  With a quick shake of his head, he smiled sweetly and somewhat serenely. Oh, how unpredictable Drew was proving himself to be. “Not tonight.”

  “You’ll stay with me, though?” she rushed to ask him and hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.

  He couldn't leave her—not yet. She'd managed to break down her barriers, and now after his tender tutelage in the art of lovemaking, she couldn't stand the thought of sleeping alone. Her emotions were open and raw, and even though Maxine knew better than to allow herself to drift so quickly into his spell, there was no escaping the feelings that she’d begun to harbor for Drew.

  First, he bent down to collect her clothes from the floor. “Just so you know, I won't tolerate this kind of mess in the future, Maxine,” he said as he folded each piece—her dress, panties and bra—and set them on the chair near the small desk on the opposite end of the room. When he returned to her bedside, he began to work his fingers against the buttons of his shirt. “And yes, I'll stay with you, little one. I can be cruel, but I'm not merciless…”

  Covering her torso with a pillow—the only item within reach that could do the job nicely—she continued to mind him as he undressed in the darkness. “Thank you…Kind Sir…” she murmured as he unzipped his fly and kicked away his trousers. “But why do you say such things? You’re scaring me a little…”

  “Good!” he chuckled and pulled the comforter back, taking care to lift her hips and tuck her beneath the layers of linens before he climbed into bed beside her. “Keeps you in line.”

  Sorely disappointed that she didn’t get a proper look at him, she folded her arms over herself, but he pulled her near once more to rest against his chest. So close, she could feel his hardness pressing through his boxer briefs into her bare skin, thick against her belly. Instinctively, she wiggled her body against him without the intention to strengthen his evident needs, but he caught her hips in his hands.

  “Don’t tease, Maxine,” he warned. “I’m trying to behave like a proper gentleman tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered and held her breath.

  “I’m not just going to fuck you,” he said, enunciating every word with flecks of dismay. “Your virginity is far more precious than a quick hump on this little bed. And we need some time together.”

  “Drew?” she murmured, daring to brush her fingers over the dusting of hair on his chest. Although she couldn't see him clearly, she could feel the smooth skin and the robust strength of his muscles. “Thank you—for having that respect for me.”

  The sigh that hissed through his lips was indiscernible but induced by his exasperation. “Maxine…”

  She was waiting for the sting—prepared for him to tell her not to get used to it—so when his lips closed affectionately over hers, she giggled once again.

  “Go to sleep, little one,” he said. “And sweet dreams…”

  Chapter Seven

  The strong rays of sunlight streamed through the opening in the draperies in one solid beam that illuminated warmly against Maxine’s face. Outside, a gorgeous early autumn morning had begun to unfold in the city as it awakened on that lazy Saturday morning. People scurried around as they ran errands to the dry cleaners and the grocery store but also took time to enjoy those last few beautiful weeks before Old Man Winter paid a visit once again.

  As she yawned and stretched, Maxine stirred, awakening from a heavy but comforting slumber, and was in no rush to hurry out of bed. Eyes still closed, she patted her hand, anticipating the cool touch of a cotton pillow case only to meet with the surprise of taut skin beneath her palm. Suddenly, she realized that she hadn't been dreaming at all. There was a man in her bed…and that man was Drew McKenzie.

  Opening just one eye, she knew that now was her chance to look. He was still sleeping, and she wanted to enjoy the view all to herself for just a few moments. While she considered the idea of feathering her fingers over every chiseled curve of his abs, she didn’t want to tempt fate and wake him.

  Indulging in these precious seconds, she endeavored to breathe as if she were still sleeping. Maxine attempted to match the rise and fall of his chest as she stole a glance at his beautiful eyes, closed now in such peace, and those now messy blonde curls. He did need a haircut. In fact, she couldn’t rem
ember a time in years that she'd ever seen his hair so long, but she liked the look on him.

  However, she reminded herself that he wouldn't likely be asleep for long, and she still had some scoping to do. Lifting the comforter to see below his waist was out of the question. However, she could still revel in the sight of his forearms, the strength of his biceps. She took note of his tiny nipples, the tufts of light brown hair that covered his chest and a perfect navel that punctuated his flat stomach, off which Maxine was sure she could bounce a quarter.

  Maxie couldn't deny her motives. At the same time, though, she wondered how the day would unfold. Drew would likely wake up, realize what a mistake he'd made in playing with a virgin and hustle himself out the door. So much for her virginity. And so much for her Saturday…

  Her…Saturday…

  She had plans with Ben! Panic washed over her as she began to formulate excuses. Even with Drew in her bed, there was no way she could ditch her best friend on her first official weekend as a New Yorker. This predicament left her feeling helpless. Somehow, she had to get Drew out the door before Ben crawled down the stairs. However, she didn't want him to go just yet…

  Life just got complicated.

  “So, we’re awake, little one?”

  The sound of his voice alone, so commanding even in tenderness, aroused those surreal sexual urges that consumed her the night before. He didn’t bother to attempt to hide his ever hardening cock that nudged against her either. However, she didn’t have a second to ponder his question—or his erection—as the pinch of his thumb and forefinger closing around her nipple prompted Maxine to sit up with a start. “Oh, yes!”

  “Such a good girl,” Drew growled playfully as he pulled her close and bit gently into her naked shoulder.

  And then it dawned upon Maxine: She was completely nude, while he still wore his boxers. That, somehow, didn't seem fair.

  “Please…”

  Laughing uproariously, he fell back against the pillows once again. “Begging already, are you?” he asked. “How about we have some breakfast?”

  That six-pack would be a lovely, intoxicating start to the day, she thought, but he was already uncovering himself, readying to stand up. “Uh…I usually don’t eat in the morning.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Maxine…” he waved a finger. “How can you skip the most important meal of the day?”

  Now was not the time to argue over food. She had enough of that with her dear old dad and Ben, and she didn’t need to hear Drew harping away. With a shrug of her shoulders, she attempted to dismiss him.

  “Coffee?” he persisted. “How about toast? And some eggs?”

  Wrinkling her long, slender nose, she said, “I don’t drink warm beverages.”

  “You…what?” he whipped his head and those curls tossed about just a little. Yeah, he needed a serious haircut, but she loved it.

  “I don’t drink warm beverages. And good luck finding eggs in the fridge,” she bade him. “Ben has kept it rather barren. He usually hoofs it to the deli. They do deliver, though. I realized I’d forgotten my shampoo yesterday, and they brought me a bottle. And some Evian. And two packs of Advil so that I made the minimum delivery charge. There are menus in the drawer if you’re interested.”

  Stop rambling like an idiot, she berated herself.

  His wicked laugh nearly frightened her. “They’re quite efficient…and well stocked, are they?” he mused. “But what the fuck is this shit with hot coffee?”

  “I just don’t drink it,” she reasoned.

  “You can’t be sane—living in New York…refusing to drink coffee…”

  “I thought that was the Seattle mentality,” she said. “Aren't Manhattanites supposed to love bottled water?”

  “Oh, Maxine…” his voice exuded exasperation. “So much to teach you—outside the bedroom, little one…”

  And in it, too, she hoped. “Should I come with you?”

  Leaning in, he cupped her chin, and his lips whispered against hers, “Oh, we’ll come together, Maxine…eventually. For now, why don’t you just relax until I return with your breakfast in bed?”

  Breakfast in bed with Drew. If her mother were alive, she’d sneak in a call while he was out of earshot. Oh, how she wished that Judy was still around. She’d find the greatest humor in all of this—even if this man had intentions of deflowering her daughter. They’d talked about everything so candidly. Maxine was sure this would have been up for discussion as well.

  Momentarily, she allowed her heart to ache, but reminded herself that her mother wanted her to carry on. For Judy, she had to shine.

  “One last question, Maxine…” Drew began as he reached for the doorknob. “Where is your roomie?”

  “Oh, he sleeps until at least noon on weekends,” she explained. “And his room is upstairs. Sort of for this very…ahem…reason…”

  “In case you brought someone home, my sweet little virgin?” Drew asked.

  “No, actually,” she giggled, somewhat embarrassed over her daring behavior just a few hours ago. “In case he decides to bring someone home.”

  “Guess that well-thought plan backfired, didn’t it?” That snide little chortle was a sound Maxine was learning to adore.

  As Drew left to forage for her meal, Maxine pulled the covers over her once again and grinned. Perhaps it was going to be a glorious Saturday morning in New York after all.

  # # #

  If nothing else, at least Drew found a nearly full can of coffee in one of the barren white tin cabinets in the kitchen. With a stroke of luck, that coffee maker on the counter worked. He'd have to buy her the Le Creuset French press that he preferred. But first, he had to teach Maxine the joys of drinking hot coffee.

  Before he turned on the faucet to fill the carafe with water, he stopped himself. He'd made a deal with her to try this out for a week. Already, he was buying her expensive gifts and instructing her in the little nuances of his life. While quite some time had passed since Drew broke up with his previous girlfriend, he hadn't thought about getting serious with anyone anytime soon. In fact with the show beginning rehearsals in a matter of days, he knew he wouldn't have much time for anything but work.

  One thing he'd neglected to ask Jillian in his brief but thorough inquisition the previous night was Maxine's age. She was in her early twenties, he was certain. How early, he had yet to determine, but with the looks of her cupboards, he had to guess that she was fresh out of college. There was not a scrap of food—or spices, or cans—to be had. Fuck, he hoped he had better luck in the refrigerator. To be that young again. He'd also have to order some proper nutrition for her from FreshDirect, an online grocery store that delivered within Manhattan and kept his own pantry full.

  As he turned on the faucet, he jumped back immediately, startled by the loud noises that resonated from behind the backsplash. The old pipes wailed like a banshee and bashed against the wall with such intensity that the tiles moved a little. What a stately old house this must have been in its day, but now, more than a little tender loving care was needed to restore its former grandeur.

  True to Maxine’s warning, the fridge was just as empty as the cupboards, but he did find a stick of margarine. With the loaf of bread on the counter, he could manage some toast. In truth, Drew hated to cook, but he’d already preached to Maxine the importance of a good meal to start out the day. You and your fucking big mouth, Mack, he thought. She’s probably expecting Eggs Benedict now.

  With the coffee brewing and the bread toasting, Drew yanked on a drawer in an effort to find a butter knife. Suddenly, the front panel fell off and to the floor, missing his toe by millimeters.

  “Motherfucker!”

  “Uh…having some trouble there?” Ben called out from the doorframe. “And can I help you?”

  The last Ben heard from Maxine, she was having an awful time at her soiree the previous night and had dumped a drink upon this very man standing in their kitchen. Ben had expected her home shortly thereafter, crawling into his bed for
a cuddle to assuage her bruised but not broken ego. She'd have a good cry. He'd open a couple of beers. They'd pass out. As per usual.

  However, while waiting for Maxine, Ben himself had fallen asleep, a dead slumber that a jackhammer to his bedroom floor couldn’t have awakened. When he’d opened one eye and noticed that it was already after eight, he reckoned he’d head downstairs, pound on her door, wake her up and jump into her bed to tickle her awake. Maxine. Hated. Being. Tickled.

  Little did he realize that Drew McKenzie, Himself, would deter his mission in the kitchen—in his fucking boxer shorts nonetheless, with a rather dazed look of his own upon his face.

  She fucking brought the dude home!

  How the hell Maxine managed to rise from her fall from grace and muster the courage to talk to this man—let alone pick his ass up for a hook-up—left Ben boggled. In fact, he wasn’t so much shocked to find Drew there as he was to realize that Maxine allowed him to come home with her. To his vast knowledge of her short life so far, she’d never been so bold. In fact, the Libra in her rationalized far too much to pull off a stunt like this.

  Drew had to have slipped something in her drink. There was just no other logical explanation. Mind racing, Ben wanted to sit them both down at the old dining room table and quiz them.

  The irony did not escape him, and Maxine was missing the entire show with her best friend and biggest teenage crush standing side-by-side…in the kitchen…and both of them were only wearing boxer briefs.

  Meanwhile, Drew panicked.

  Shit, shit, shit! The fucking roommate! Ben, was it? Drew hoped that was this poor kid’s name. Well, that’s one way to lose an erection, he thought. Not that he harbored any intentions to have Maxine that morning, but it would have been nice to tease her a bit. Perhaps this Ben person would just leave…and his dick would return to its normal morning status.