Slowly, she walked around, surveying the lights of Manhattan from every angle. This night was decadent, if not extravagant, but obviously, it was just the way Drew preferred to live.
“So...how exactly does one gain private access to the observation deck of the Empire State Building on a Saturday evening?”
“He pays for it,” he said so simply that she almost cringed. In truth, he dropped a few names, and his father’s connections didn’t hurt his cause. “And I hope it’s worth your while, Maxine.”
Directing her attention toward the table, he beckoned her to join him for a glass of champagne.
“This is...unbelievable.” She knew her words were inadequate, but Drew had a way of tying up her tongue.
“Well, I thought this might amuse you, being so new to New York,” he remarked as he expertly maneuvered the cork from the bottle, which left only a slight pop and little fizz upon removal.
“New, but not—”
“A virgin?” he finished her sentence for her.
She caught his moody blue eyes in her stare as he passed a champagne flute to her. Slowly, she curved her lips around the glass and watched him with equal intensity as he minded her. She wanted to laugh, but it was just all too soon.
“I hope that's better than the sparkling wine served at that event last night,” he quipped suddenly, changing the subject before she had a chance to explain herself. He noted the rise of color in her cheeks as he recalled her embarrassment.
“It was a night I’d love to forget in many ways,” she said. “Especially the drink menu…”
His hand immediately closed in, his finger lifting her chin. “May I remind you, Maxine, had you not spilled the aforementioned drink on me, we probably wouldn’t have met?”
That single touch of his finger burned against her already fiery skin, but she remained aware of a slight fall breeze that fluttered up her dress, tickling her already sensitive lower lips. She was certain at that point that her lungs had collapsed completely as she struggled again for words...for air. His face was so close. Her lips dangled open in a perfect pout. Just as she assumed that he was likely going to claim her mouth with his own...Drew moved his finger away in one teasingly long stroke.
“Chilly?” he asked.
“Huh-uh…” she shook her head. “Quite…warm…actually…”
Shifting on her feeble knees, she couldn’t concentrate. His nod encouraged her to take another sip of champagne, which left Maxine’s glass drained. However, he was quick to refill her flute again.
“Tell me one of your fantasies, Maxine,” he encouraged, watching her with those sparkling blue eyes that continued to taunt and tease. “Ever have one about me?”
Drew clearly wasn't about to let that little episode with the photo drop so easily, but she could never reveal her most intimate thoughts about him. She also knew that he wasn't one to accept silence for an answer. “Last night…in the taxi…”
“Ah-ha!” he whispered, his minty breath fanning her cheeks so methodically—fueling the inferno that he knew damn well already raged within her. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Tell me more…”
“I just…” Vividly, she could see the scenario playing out in her dirtiest of thoughts, but the words just didn’t form or flow. “I was…it…just thought…”
“Just remember this, Maxine—bad girls get punished…” he warned her. “And good girls get rewards…”
“Good girl…” her tiny voice insisted. “Didn’t wear my panties…”
“The taxi, Maxine,” he prompted, his voice began to rise with a touch of consternation. “Tell me—or you don’t get a reward this evening.”
Oh, how she hoped that meant he intended to make love to her. So lost in lust was Maxine that she would have allowed him to hike up her dress and take her right there. At least, she reasoned in the midst of her irrational thoughts, her first time would be memorable. However, she was certain there must be some ordinance in New York City regarding fucking on top of a landmark.
Now though, she understood why he insisted she wear comfortable shoes. There was no way she could have withstood his brand of seduction in another pair of stilettos. She would have spilled another flute of champagne all over him by now.
“Taxi…I was sad…that you didn’t try…didn’t kiss me…”
Roguishly, he grinned as his eyes widened in amusement. “You wanted a little cuddling in the backseat, did you?”
Adamantly, she shook her head. “No…more like…like tonight…when you checked…for my panties…”
“You wanted me to touch you?” he asked, maintaining a distance between them. “To bring you to orgasm right there in that dirty, filthy cab…”
“Oh, yes…”
“Fuck, you're so damn adorable…” he whispered, struggling to catch his breath. “Are you sure you're really a virgin, little one? With that scandalous mind of yours?”
“Yup…”
“Yes, Sir…” he corrected her, then reached down to the table to pluck a plump strawberry from the fruit plate. “Hungry?”
Before she had a chance to answer, he held the deep red bulb to her lips and slipped it into her mouth. Without warning, he kissed her, feeding the strawberry further with his demanding lips and the exploration of his tongue.
With his hand gripping her head so tightly, Maxine moaned softly, acutely aware of all of her senses exploding with each deliberate pulse of his kiss, and she raked her fingers through his mass of blonde curls. A stirring in her tummy mounted, an ache deep within began to build and a passion of which she’d once challenged the existence spiraled her to heights she’d deemed unimaginable...until now as she fell peril to one Drew McKenzie.
As the juice from the succulent fruit trickled over her mouth and down her chin, Drew’s lips followed, lapping at the drops along the way until her face was clean. All the while, Maxine’s fingers were still entwined in his hair, now mussed from their salacious exchange. She craved so much more...and yet...he pulled back to look again into the passionate stare of her wide emerald eyes.
“Champagne?”
“I...want...” she whispered—begged, “I want you...to kiss me...again...please…”
“We have all evening, little one,” he said and lifted the glass to Maxine's gaping lips. “Drink,” he commanded, and she followed his order, hoping he might change his mind. “Good girl...”
With his hand planted firmly on her lower back, Drew slowly turned her, leading her attention to the city beneath them, diverting her attention once again.
“So what do you think of your first two days in New York?” he asked.
Drew stood so very closely behind her that she thought she could feel the slightest pressure of his arousal brush ever so casually against her. He certainly loved to torture a girl.
“Wonderful…with you…”
“I have to admit that I’ve had some fun these last few hours with you, too.
A nervous energy began to spark inside her once more, and she wavered against him. With the perils she suffered between her legs and the lingering effects of that kiss...and the slight edge of fear over what Drew might say or do next, she simply couldn't keep up with his shifts in mood. He certainly kept her on her toes.
“Stop and still yourself, Maxine,” he ordered.
Her mouth opened wide with his sudden declaration. Moody. Bossy. And so damned appealing.
“That’s better,” he said. “Otherwise, we might have a problem.”
“Problem?”
“You’re absolutely irresistible when you do that,” he explained. “And I’m not ready to have you yet.”
“You love to tease, Drew...”
“Oh, it’s far beyond the tease, Maxine...” he whispered. “You’ve no idea.”
“So why don’t you clue me in?” she asked.
“In due time,” he said, turning her again to face the skyline. “Due time, little one.”
Slowly, his fingers danced along the scarf she wore around her n
eck, ever so methodically pushing the soft silk away until it dropped to the cement beneath their feet. He followed up with the systematic removal of her raincoat. Maxine could feel the heat of Drew's sigh playing along the length of her neck, over her shoulders, and then trickling down her spine. Purposefully, he reached for her hands that had dropped to her sides and clutched them with one hand, binding them within the ring of only just his fingers behind her back.
“Look over there, little one,” he murmured, guiding her attention toward the forested field in the far-off distance. “Can you see Central Park?”
“Mmmhmm,” she uttered, her body slackening against his all-consuming prowess. “I see...”
“Just focus, Maxine,” he whispered. “Imagine the fun we could have together...within the jungle of all those trees...”
“Drew…” She squirmed again, uncomfortable in too many right ways as he held her immobile, between his body and hands and the barrier wall surrounding the observation deck just as he'd done the previous night. “What are you doing to me?”
“Why, Maxine,” he said, releasing her hands suddenly, “I just don’t know...”
So caught up in his Rasputin-like appeal, so lost in the depths of those dark and brooding blue eyes, she didn’t know how to respond to his affectionate words. At that moment, though, she would have agreed to anything he asked—even if it meant jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.
“So, little one, how are you planning to spend your week off before work begins?”
“Haven’t decided…”
“I'd love to show you some of the...finer points of Manhattan,” he offered quickly. Drew's eyes followed her carefully, minding every nervous move Maxine made as she kicked around her feet and tried desperately to avoid his stare. “And I'd like to get to know you better.”
And Maxine wanted to get to know him as well, if for no other reason than to find out why he seemed so damn taken with her. She just didn’t understand him at all. Without a doubt, he could have any woman he wanted—actresses, models, socialites—yet this handsome man with a perfect face and body to match had chosen to spend his Saturday night with her. There just had to be an ulterior motive, Maxine reasoned.
“Why me, Drew?” she asked, but just as soon as the words left her lips, Maxine wanted to take them back. She knew that she sounded so needy—so desperate—and she could only guess that was the last thing Drew wanted in a woman.
“I’ve already told you that you intrigue me,” he said, his palms dusting over her bare arms, his fingers playing with the hem of her capped sleeve. “And I’d like to find out if we’re—” he stopped silent, choosing his words, “—if you’re conducive to certain aspects of my lifestyle.”
Drew had such a way with words—warm as an open fire one moment, then cold as a glacier the next. “What exactly are you looking for, Drew?”
“You’ll know more soon, little one,” he assured her. “You’re quite impatient, aren’t you?”
“I’m an only child,” she defended herself. “I guess I’m used to having my way.”
“I’m used to getting mine as well. I suppose I’ve got my work cut out for me,” he said, his hands skimming over her shoulders and down her back to pull her just a bit closer again. “Now tell me, Maxine,” he began, “how exactly would you like to play tourist this week?”
Her soft giggle echoed between them, and she noted his smile.
“That’s a beautiful sound,” he noted. “You have such a sweet laugh.”
Flustered again, she knew her face had flushed a thousand shades of red. This roller coaster ride on which he’d taken her could have easily deterred another young woman, but she’d already invested too much emotion in just twenty-four hours to run from him now.
“Why don’t you surprise me?” she suggested. “You certainly managed to do that this evening.”
“The night is still young—I may have another.” Those damn eyes were twinkling once more, brighter than the lights of the city behind them, with teases and promises. “Right now, I’d love it if you’d dance with me,” he suggested, circling his arms around her waist and giving her no choice in the matter.
Bryan Ferry continued to croon “Slave to Love” as Drew pulled Maxine even closer. All the while, she felt as if she were drowning in her awkwardness. Admittedly, she'd never danced with a man, unless a few inebriated bumps and grinds at the local university watering hole—or her aimless spins around the living room as she tugged at Ben's arms—counted. Under Drew's expert guidance, though, she slowly found her rhythm, her hips swaying in time to the languid, mournful beat with him.
Luring her back again with his amorous persuasion, he commanded her to follow his lead without uttering a single word. Maxine was thankful for his masterful grip of her waist, which she was certain was preventing her from another undignified fall.
Talking didn’t seem to be a necessity as one song played into the next. As Drew dipped his head, nuzzling her neck with the tip of his nose, Maxine thought for a moment that she just might collapse right there in his arms.
“Hungry, little one?” he murmured at last, after they’d danced together for what seemed like hours to Maxine.
Famished, yes, but food was the last thing on her mind at the moment. She shrugged her shoulders, as she looked in his eyes with a headiness she’d never known.
“You must eat, Maxine,” he whispered when she didn’t answer him and placed one tiny kiss on her earlobe. “I bet you didn’t even touch the food I had delivered today.”
“I didn’t have time, Drew,” she breathed at last, still reveling in the feel of his arms slung about her waist. “I had to get ready…for tonight…”
“Well, it’s time for dinner now,” he smiled, nodding thoughtfully. “And I’ve got just the place in mind...”
Chapter Eleven
The streets were still busy early that Sunday morning. It was just after midnight by the time they'd left the Empire State Building. As the sedan cruised quickly uptown along Eighth Avenue, Maxine mused over the throngs of people who were still out and about. Back home, she'd lock her car doors if she spotted a crowd at that hour. Most likely, though, she would have been in bed. Now, she reminded herself, she was living a different life.
“I guess that saying proves true again,” Maxine said suddenly. “New York never sleeps!”
“No, Maxine, I suppose it doesn’t.”
“I’m a virgin,” she reminded him. “I’m not used to navigating the streets of this island of steel and concrete at all hours of the night.”
Drew’s gentle laugh played against the relative quietude that had settled over them. “Well, get used to it, Maxine,” he winked.
All the while, Maxine couldn't help but wonder where the hell he was taking her now. She knew they were going for a very late dinner, if not an extremely early breakfast, but they were in the middle of the Upper West Side, which was a residential neighborhood for the most part. The old luxury buildings—Tudors, Art Deco, various influences of European Renaissance—lined both sides of the street with many of the apartments still illuminated within. Maxine amused herself by wondering just what those people were up to at this hour, then chuckled to herself, thinking that this was well past her bedtime.
When the car stopped at last in front of a tiny corner diner, Drew unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for her hand.
“I'll wait for you, Mack,” Lou said as he opened the back door for them. “And then, if you'd like me to drop Miss Kirk at home?”
“Actually, why don’t you take the rest of the night off, Lou?” Drew suggested, leading the way to the diner’s front door.
Cocking his brow, Lou asked, “You sure about that?”
“Positive. I’ll make sure she finds her way home,” Drew looked down into Maxine’s eyes. “That alright with you?”
“Yes, Sir…”
Suddenly, her hopes skyrocketed. Perhaps he was planning to make love to her after all. Now she just had to muster some charm and manage so
me clever conversation over their meal. Drew had teased her relentlessly—he couldn’t possibly keep her waiting. He had needs of his own to satisfy.
“I thought that nothing quite represents true New York cuisine like a good old-fashioned diner,” Drew said as he held the door, gesturing for Maxine’s entrance. “After you, little one.”
“So they call you Mack,” she mused. “I never would have known…”
“Yeah…” he murmured rather absent-mindedly. “There’s a lot about my life you won’t find so easily in a Google search…”
All the while, Maxine didn't miss the angst in his comment, but they'd only just met. She couldn't press him to open up to her after a mere twenty-four hours had passed. She could only hope that by the end of the week, he might find his courage within and have some faith in her intentions.
And he couldn't tell her just yet. In his selfishness, he didn't want to bombard her with too much because he knew damn well she'd run away.
The aromas of soups of the day and deep fried foods mingled in the air, and Maxine could almost feel the grease upon her face as they waited to be seated. She took a moment to look around. Of course, she’d been in diners before, and this one was no different. The decor was so simple—brown leather booths, Formica tabletops and a long lunch counter with red leather-topped stools along the far wall. She loved this place already.
Again, they were the only two people in the restaurant, aside from a tired waitress dressed in black pants and a wrinkled white shirt that bore the stains of that evening's earlier orders. Over her big brown coffee mug, she managed a tired smile at Drew the moment they stepped inside.
“Morning, Mack,” she said, ushering the two to a quiet table in the rear.
“Good morning, Luann,” he said, returning the smile.
“Your usual?” she asked. “Or should I bring menus?”
“The usual is fine, and make it for two, please.”
“Anything to drink?”
“We’ll have coffee,” he answered.
“Iced for me, please,” Maxine whispered.
WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One Page 13