To the Max

by Annmarie McKenna

  Max smoothed a thumb over her cheek. “You got a good right hook, huh?”

  “Years of dancing have made me very strong.”

  “Trust me, baby, I saw how strong you were when you were wrapped around that pole. Remind me never to piss you off. And by the way, when do I get a private showing of that little routine?”

  “Hmm…you play your cards right, could be as soon as I blacken the dork’s eye.” She slipped her leg between his and brought it up to nudge his package. “I’ll have plenty of free time afterwards.”

  Chapter Six

  Max sat next to Jordan in her much more sensible car as they drove to Clement’s estate. Jordan had gotten up earlier than she’d told him she would, waking him with a blow job and sucking him dry. Thinking about it made him get hard again. He had a feeling he was in for a lot of tight jeans in the near future. At least he’d had a change of clothes in the car with him. He’d stashed them there after getting caught once on the job without a change of clothes for three days. Now he always carried a bag.

  Not that it mattered because he’d already decided he was taking Jordan back to his house after she dealt with Clement this morning. The man would be lucky to walk away with only the black eye Jordan threatened.

  She pulled the car to the curb and looked at the house with a mixture of resignation and antagonism.

  Dirk Clement couldn’t possibly come out of this unscathed. Max had a feeling Jordan was a force to be reckoned with when pissed off. Look how far she’d gone to get out of her family’s clutches.

  “You mind if I go with you?”

  “By all means. Be my guest.” She yanked the key from the ignition and held it between her fingers like a weapon. Perhaps the dork, as Jordan referred to him, was going to lose an eye instead.

  Max rocked back on his heels and waited for his knock to be answered. The house reminded him of the one he’d grown up in. Pretentious and overdone. He wasn’t sure what to expect when the door opened. A snobby butler? A maid in a French maid’s costume?

  Surprisingly enough, Clement himself opened the door, a sneering grin on his face which quickly turned downward when he saw Max standing next to Jordan.

  “Jordan. You’ve brought help with you today?” His nose went into the air as he spoke.

  “We need to talk, Mr. Clement.” Max entered the house without being asked, pushing Clement out of the way while Jordan followed.

  She got right to the heart of the matter. “Did you send someone to break into my apartment last night?”

  Oh brother. Max saw Jordan’s hand ball into a fist. At least she wasn’t still holding her keys.

  Clement’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Absolutely not. Why on earth would you even think something like that?”

  “You wanna know why?” Jordan asked, advancing on the weasel who backed up even more until his heels hit the wall behind him. “I think you’re pissed because I turned you down over and over and over and this was your way of payback.”

  Clement’s gaze shifted between Max and Jordan. “I never came on to you.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “‘Why don’t you slide down here to the pool when you’re finished up there, sweet thing? Care to have a drink when you’re done? I can think of something much nicer for you to wear while you’re working, baby.’”

  Max’s stomach turned and a red haze filled his vision. “You said those things to an employee?”

  “That and a hundred other sordid comments.” Jordan put her hands on her hips. “Did you break into my apartment?”

  Clement’s gaze jerked to Max’s. “No. I didn’t. I… No. I don’t even know where you live. How could I when you wouldn’t talk to me?” Sweat had started to bead on the man’s forehead.

  “I’m sure you have the means, Mr. Clement.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.” His face had turned a strange shade of purple, and Max wondered if this was what they meant in historical fiction when they said someone was suffering from apoplexy. “Fine. I said some things I shouldn’t have but you…” he stabbed a finger in her direction, “…you dance around here shaking your hips and, and, try to get me all worked up. I thought you were…flirting.” Clement acted as if the thought had come to him that very second. He behaved like a two-year-old who hadn’t gotten his way. In short, Clement was having a temper tantrum for being caught.

  “Maybe there’s a reason I never told you where I live, did you ever think about that?” Jordan was definitely handling the situation better than Max thought she would. He sort of saw her now as the charging-up-the-drive-guns-blazing type. “I quit.”

  “You can’t quit. That would be a breach of contract.” Clement stamped his foot to emphasize his point.

  “I’m pretty sure you breached the contract by saying the things you did. And I’m cleaning your house, not managing your money. Your contract doesn’t mean much to me at the moment.”

  Max wished he had a pair of handcuffs. It might be nice to leave with him cuffed to the gauche fountain inside the foyer.

  “It gives me great pleasure to say to your face, I quit, Mr. Clement.”

  “You won’t get any references from me then.”

  Jordan turned and started walking down the steps. She spoke over her shoulder. “Your kind of references I don’t need.”

  Max watched her leave then turned back to Clement. “If I find out you had anything to do with the break-in last night, you can be sure you’ll hear from me again. With police in tow. And for future reference, I suggest you keep your mouth shut when the help is around unless you want a lawsuit slapped on you.”

  Clement vigorously nodded. “I swear. I didn’t do it. I don’t know where she lives.”

  “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

  Max didn’t skip down the drive the way he wanted to, but he did whistle. One problem down, one still to go. Though they’d discovered Jordan’s former employer was truly a weasel, Max still had no clue who’d broken in last night. He’d hoped the case would be solved with a visit to Clement, but despite the fact Clement was a dick, Max didn’t think he’d been lying about not having anything to do with the break-in at Jordan’s place.

  He wondered what Jordan would say when he told her he’d be sticking to her like glue until her guest was identified, because he sure as shit didn’t believe the act had been random. Someone knew who Jordan was.

  Dirk Clement was an absolutely absurd man. Jordan slammed the door to her hatchback and simmered while waiting for Max. In an extremely short amount of time, she’d somehow become attached to the man. Perhaps fate, through Annie Devlin, had brought them together. She wouldn’t go back in time to change things even if it meant a loan for her own studio would fall into her lap at this very moment.

  Besides, she’d done some thinking during the night while she’d been pressed against Max’s side. If he could use some of his family money to start his own business, perhaps she could too. Maybe she wasn’t looking at things from the right angle. She was an adult. Her mother had no say in how Jordan spent her own money.

  The passenger door opened, letting in a cold gust of wind.

  “What an idiot.” Max yanked the door closed with a thud.

  “Do you think he was the one in my apartment last night?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then who the hell…?”

  He grabbed her hand and set it on his thigh. “I don’t know, but you can rest assured I’ll be spending the day looking into it. Are you positive you haven’t pissed anyone off?”

  “Positive? No.”

  He smiled at her which made her insides all gooey like a warm chocolate chip cookie. “Then are you sure no one knows who you are?”

  “No on that account either. I don’t think it would be a gigantic leap for someone to figure it out either. Apart from Dirk the dork who only thinks with his little brain.” Jordan turned the key and started the engine, then pulled into the street. “You’ll have to give me directions.”

 
“I will. For now just get on 70.” Max lifted Jordan’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

  A thrill shot through her.

  The euphoric feeling got cut off by the sudden ringing of her cell phone from the cup holder. She retrieved her hand and answered the call.

  As if the day couldn’t get worse.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Jordan, darling.” Jordan rolled her eyes at her mother’s sickly sweet greeting. “I’ve just heard about the break-in last night. Are you willing to stop playing your little game and come home now? Can’t you see how dangerous it is?”

  Jordan sat up. “And just how did you hear about it, Mother?” She hadn’t had a chance to tell a soul yet.

  “Don’t be silly. Jeff, of course.”

  Jordan ground her teeth. “And how would Jeff know?” She hadn’t seen her shadow, Jeff, since she’d flown the coop. Jordan assumed he’d been assigned some other menial job.

  “You didn’t honestly think I would let you run off to live in squalor, now did you? He’s been watching you all along. Until now there’s been no reason to interfere, but bringing home some vagrant from a bar? Jordan, really. I brought you up better than to let some common gold digger get his hands on your money. I had to do something.”

  “Oh. My. God. So you had someone fucking break into my place?” Jordan wanted to scream. And considering it wouldn’t be very nice to kill the woman, what she really wanted to do was take a few whacks at a punching bag. Not even Dirk Clement had made her see this particular shade of red. “You’ve been spying on me.”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me with such vulgarity. And yes. Someone had to stop you from squandering your life away.”

  Max put a calming hand on Jordan’s thigh. Her cheeks heated because she had no doubt Max had heard every single word out of her mother’s mouth.

  “You know nothing about my life. If I want to squander every penny in my account, I’ll do just that. You also know nothing about the vagrant I brought home to have wild monkey sex with all night long.”

  Her mother gasped and Jordan smiled, knowing she’d hit a homerun with the remark.

  “Max is no vagrant, Mother. He is Kara Patterson-Jensen’s son, if you must know, and even if he were a window washer you would still have no say in what or how many ways I do him.”

  “Jordan Grace Landon.”

  Jordan envisioned her mother’s shocked face and kept at it. “He’s the black sheep of his family too, like I am. We’re a perfect pair. And…we love each other,” she shouted.

  Max’s hand squeezed hers. She hoped he understood she was only playing it up for her mother’s sake.

  “And from now on you can keep your flunky security men at home with you because Max happens to be one. He’s the one I am entrusting my body to.”

  “I will have you cut out of any inheritance you might be thinking is yours if you don’t stop speaking to me with such disgrace right this second.”

  Jordan sighed. It had not been her intention to lambaste her mother, but this time the woman had stepped over the line in sending someone to burglarize her home in the hopes of scaring her straight.

  “I’m sorry, Mother, but you’ve gone too far with this stunt. If you want to disown me, fine. I’m not sure Daddy will be too happy, but fine. I don’t want a dime. I want to own my own studio and teach kids to dance. I want to marry the man of my choice and have babies who aren’t born thinking money can buy them everything. I want to live my own life and not have you tell me who I should marry for the sake of your appearance. I’m going to hang up now, Mother.”

  She did, pressing the end button on her mother’s shriek. Then she powered off the phone.

  “Wow.”

  Jordan sank back into her seat. It took her several seconds to realize she’d pulled to the side of the road and the car sat idling still within sight of Clement’s estate. Her cheeks heated at what Max had overheard.

  “So shall we just get right to the babies since we’ve already had unprotected sex or do you think we should get married first?”

  Jordan choked on her spit. Max pounded on her back.

  “Sheesh. Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”

  “Who says I don’t?”

  She stared at the crazy man. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack, kamikaze.”

  She must have looked completely confounded because Max laughed and cupped a hand behind her neck. He urged her closer and kissed the tip of her nose before murmuring to her, “I just have a few stipulations.”

  “A few?”

  “Yep. The bike has to go or you really will give me a heart attack.”

  “Not a chance, bucko.”

  He growled against her lips. “You have to let me finance your studio or we’ll be old and gray by the time you get it up and running.”

  “I can think on that one.”

  “Pole dancing is for my benefit only.”

  “Hey.” She poked him in the ribs, making him grunt. “It’s good exercise. And the way we go at it, I’ll need all the help I can get.”

  “And last but not least, seeing as you’re so good at it, would you please make a call to my mother too and tell her how it’s going to be?”

  “Now that I can handle.” She melted her lips on his and kissed him until they were both out of breath.

  About the Author

  Annmarie McKenna lives in Missouri where she stays busy writing, shuffling four kids to various activities and trying to keep sane. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached at annmarmck@yahoo.com. To learn more about Annmarie, please visit www.annmariemckenna.com or join her Yahoo! group for updates on her latest releases or other information http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Annmarie_McKenna.

  Look for these titles by Annmarie McKenna

  Now Available:

  Mate series

  Seeing Eye Mate

  Checkmate

  Finding Strength

  Two Sighted

  The Strength of Three

  Between a Ridge and a Hard Place

  Bridging the Gap

  To the Max

  Fantasmagorical

  Court Appointed

  Tooth and Claw

  Blackmailed

  Look What Santa Brought

  Coming Soon:

  Ultimatum

  Trifecta

  Mystified

  Look, but don’t touch…

  Veiled Desire

  © 2010 Alisha Rai

  Leyla Karimi can’t keep her eyes off the hunky guy living in the house behind her. How could any woman resist ogling Dr. Mason Barrett, especially when he makes it so easy by parading around in his skin and skivvies?

  If it was only their age difference, she would have made a move a long time ago. Except Mason is more than a neighbor. He’s her baby brother’s oldest friend. It’s not like they can have a casual fling and walk away in the morning.

  Mason’s been doing a little lusting—okay a lot—for quite some time. When he catches Leyla peeking, it’s a sure sign she could finally be ready to heat up his nights with loving. One taste of her lips, though, and he doesn’t want a “little” of anything. He wants it all.

  Unwilling to jeopardize a lifetime of friendship for a one-night stand, Leyla is reluctant to throw caution to the wind. When he’s kissing her senseless, though, it’s hard to remember all the reasons why she should hold back…

  Warning: Contains a hot hero who doesn’t mind baring it all in the name of love, a heroine who doesn’t settle for less, a sweet romance, steamy sex in a car and more good lovin’ in bed.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Veiled Desire:

  As Leyla chewed her last bite, savoring the taste of strawberry, cream cheese and cinnamon, she glanced up to find Mason’s gaze on her mouth, his eyes just a bit unfocused. He looked hungry. And since his plate was clean, she figured it wasn’t for food.

  Her heart rate accelerated. Though she was careful with her love life, she�
�d received her fair share of admiring looks over the years. She knew what male interest looked like. But…Mason?

  Well, why not? Hadn’t she spent months wrestling with her attraction and feelings for him? Why wouldn’t that desire be reciprocated?

  Baby.

  Sweetheart.

  This is a nice thing to wake up to…

  “Why don’t you call me Lee-Lee anymore?” she blurted out. Sasha had tagged her with the nickname in childhood. Though her brother had grown out of it, Mason had continued to use it affectionately. But now that she considered it, he had switched to only calling her by her given name for months.

  He didn’t seem at all startled by her pulling the topic out of thin air. “Because it’s a child’s name. Neither of us are children, are we?”

  She was a bit too rattled to answer. Her heart pounding, she swallowed the lump in her throat and deliberately set her fork to the side. Leyla dipped her finger in the remaining syrup on her plate. His eyes flicked down to follow the lazy figure eight she made and followed her finger back up to her mouth, where she enclosed it and…sucked.

  His eyes flared, and he bit his lower lip. Hard.

  Oh my. Well, this was very interesting.

  Leyla had never considered herself a wilting flower, so as much as she wanted to swoon a little, she stiffened her spine at the obvious signs of desire she was suddenly noting all over him. Dilated eyes, chest rising and falling. Even his nipples were hard.

  Want to taste. Then maybe he would reciprocate.

  Her head was spinning from the onslaught of the sudden epiphany. Did he just want her for sex? Because that would never work. She wasn’t set up to be a fuck buddy. But if he wanted more, did she? What about Sasha? How would her brother react?

  Her natural humor kicked in, and she tried to fight the sudden urge to laugh at herself. Sasha had always been the impulsive Karimi, but here she was, ready to go nuts on the basis of a couple of hot looks. Time to slow down and really think about this. He hadn’t given her that much encouragement, if she looked at it objectively.