He stepped forward coming precariously close to the halfway imaginary line inside the elevator. I lifted my finger in warning. And in my best teacher-like voice, I told him, “Max, do not cross that line.”
“Which line?” He brought his right foot forward and stepped over the invisible line. Just as quickly, he brought his foot back to his side of the elevator. “You mean that one…the one I just crossed over.”
“Yes, that one. If you do it again, I will kill you.”
Max laughed at that and at me. I was trying to find my Zen or whatever the hell I needed to find that would afford me some sort of clarity in this moment. Because right now, all I could see was red…and Max. They were synonymous really. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much he had been pissing me off and messing with me since the beginning. Hell, probably before I came on board when I still doing my own thing. Then I thought how stupid was I for leaving what I had going on my own to put up with this nonsense. Because, seriously, who in their right mind had time for this bullshit? Not me.
Looking around the small space, I asked, “Why the hell isn’t this thing moving yet? Hello? Can anyone hear us out there? Help!”
Max was covering his mouth with his hand to hide his laugh. “Nobody is coming, Daphne.”
“What do you mean, ‘nobody is coming?’”
“I told Paulie on the phone that I needed some quiet time and to shut off the cameras. He was cool with that, so here we are.”
“Who the hell is Paulie?”
“Which one?”
“Which one, what?”
“Which Paulie are you talking about? There are two of them. So do you mean Paulie number one or Paulie number two?” he asked.
Putting my hands on my hips, I met Max in the middle of the elevator, making sure to stay on my side of the line. “Cut the shit. Get on that phone. Tell whomever the hell you need to tell to start the elevator back up. Now.”
“Nope,” he answered with a grin. “Not gonna do that until we figure this out.”
He motioned in-between us as he stepped right back up to the line. Which brought him within an inch or two of me. It was getting hot in here. Or I was simply imagining it. Either way, I couldn’t take his self-assured routine another second.
“You know what, Max?”
Crossing his arms on his chest, his grin deepened. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I always thought you were a self-centered rich prick who went through life getting whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. And then you showed up at my job wanting to bring me on as your co-host and I thought to myself, ‘maybe he’s not so bad.’ And then you pulled that stupid bullshit with the paparazzi and gossip hound without telling me. But again, you saved your ass because you made it seem like it you were trying to help me out. So, okay, I thought to myself again, ‘maybe he’s not so bad.’ But then you kept pushing and pushing. The next thing I know you’re pulling me around into bathrooms and who knows where else earlier today and—”
His face turned so serious in a blink of an eye. “Bullshit. You wanted me to take you into that bathroom. You kissed me back. You fucking wanted me just as much as I wanted you, and still do, even though you drive me fucking crazy. If I even caught a whiff of you not wanting any of that to happen between us, I would have put the brakes on so fast it would have made your pretty little head spin. And as for this morning…you know what? Never mind.”
I took another step forward, my chest actually brushing his for a second. “No, say whatever the hell you were going to say, dammit.”
“And as for this morning, it’s obvious you would have spread your legs just as easily as you did for me last night, sweetheart.”
My hand was up and slapping his cheek before he could finish the sentence.
“Do you feel better?” Max asked without even flinching. “Or do you need to hit me again to convince yourself of the truth.”
I went to slap him again, but his hand caught mine in mid-air.
And that’s when everything went to shit.
It felt like a ticking time bomb had blown up in both our faces. Because the next thing I knew, I not only wanted to beat the ever-loving crap out of Max, but I wanted to kiss that stupid ass grin off his face for good.
I chose door number two.
Reaching up, I roughly pulled his neck down and caught a hint of surprise on his face before pressing my lips to his. Our first kiss last night started out so slow, like honey being poured out of a jar. But tonight’s kiss was already completely different. It was desperate and raw straight out of the gate. And although I was the one to make the first move, Max immediately took over. His hands dove into my hair and pulled hard, angling my head however he wanted me. Next, he devoured my mouth, rolling his tongue over mine in anxious, ravaging strokes. I could feel myself losing ground quickly, and I didn’t care. Because all I wanted in that tiny elevator was Max. I needed him to touch me everywhere. I wanted to feel him everywhere. As the thought turned over in my mind, Max’s hands slid down the sides of my body. And I barely got my breath before he picked me up in one fell swoop. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he pushed forward until my back hit the elevator wall.
Then time seemed to slow down and almost stop.
I tried to force my mind to go blank as I stared up to the ceiling tiles of the elevator while Max pressed open mouthed kisses and licked his way down my neck so slowly, like we had all the time in the world. Which worked for me perfectly because I wanted to relish this moment. In case it never happened again, I wanted to remember what Max’s lips tasted like. What noises he made when I touched him. What he sounded like when he received pleasure by my hand…or mouth. I wanted all of those things.
Hooking my feet tighter together at the ankles behind him, I pressed myself closer to him where I needed to feel him most. A slow hiss escaped his lips as I started to move a little, rubbing myself unashamedly against him. And even though I was wearing leggings and him jeans, I could feel all of him. My God in heaven, he felt good. He felt so good. Just doing this. Like we had more than just precious minutes to play with each other.
“Do you need more?” he asked, huskily.
I couldn’t answer, so lost to the sensation of rubbing myself against his hardness I thought I might die if I stopped. But then Max’s hands grabbed a hold of my hips and stilled my movements. He chuckled, low and deep as he lifted his head to look at me. His usually styled hair was a mess, thanks to my hands running through it and gripping on tightly. His lips were wet and plump and ripe for more kissing. And his eyes were hooded and dark with lust burning in them for me. All for me.
“You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that, Daphne,” he said.
“Keep doing what?” I asked, then bit my lip and moved my hips forward to grind against him again. “That?”
Max moaned and his eyes closed. I kept moving, not daring to stop him from making those noises, because they were driving me absolutely crazy.
“Yes, that,” he said sputtering.
The next few moments happened so fast, it felt as if my head was actually spinning. Because before I could keep on pressing myself against him—trust me, I tried—Max had reached behind him, unhooked my ankles and forced them to the floor. He was everywhere at once, in frenzy. My hands were pinned above my head by one of Max’s, while the other deftly unbuttoned my blouse.
“Fuck me, you’re fucking beautiful,” he said and ducked his head low to kiss the swells of my breasts.
Before I could react or think twice about anything that was happening, his other hand pulled the lace fabric down and his mouth was right there, sucking my nipple to the point of madness. When he switched sides, my eyes closed at the feeling of Max’s hot and wet mouth on me; licking, sucking, and kissing them until my toes were curling in my shoes. I moaned in pleasure and groaned in frustration at not being able to touch him.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked almost teasingly. He tightened the grip
on my wrists above my head as I tried to wriggle free. He tutted under his breath, took a nipple in his mouth, gave it a good long swirl with his tongue that made my insides feel like molten lava, and then brought his mouth to a breath of mine. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you. Do you trust me?”
I nodded. Because I would have agreed to anything Max was asking me right then. Honestly, I would have sold my soul to the highest bidder to get the relief he was offering. I didn’t care that it made me seem slightly desperate. I didn’t care that we were in an elevator. I didn’t care that this wasn’t my normal. I wanted Max to touch me or fuck me. And I didn’t care whichever one he was planning on going with either. But I was sure as hell that I needed him to start immediately.
Max let go of my wrists and started to kiss me again, slowly and methodically and to the point of distraction, because in the next moment his hands were sliding down my stomach and into my leggings.
“Oh my god, yes.” I was practically panting and let my head fall back against the wall. “There, touch me there, please.”
Max didn’t waste time. His fingers were spreading me open and touching me right where I needed it most. He rubbed small, tight circles until the tiny bundle nerves felt like it would burst into a million pieces while applying the perfect amount of pressure. Then, as if sensing I was about to explode, he took his fingers away.
My eyes flew open at the loss of his touch. I could feel my body already aching for him, which was slightly terrifying. And the bastard knew it, too, because his sexy as hell smirk was firmly in place across that gorgeous face of his. He knew that he was torturing me and he loved every single second of it. I wanted to say something smart as soon as my brain caught up to what was happening, but then in slow motion, Max brought the hand that was just between my legs to his mouth. And catching me completely off guard, he sucked his two fingers while his seductive eyes were trained on mine. As they slid out of his mouth, his cheeks were practically hollowed out to the point that he made a loud “pop” sound when he released them.
“You taste so goddamn good,” Max said in a throaty whisper. “If we weren’t in here right now, I’d have you flat on your back and my face would be licking your pussy up and down until you came on my tongue.” He leaned in a little closer, and flicked the tongue in question along the shell of my ear. His hand dove right back into my leggings and inside my panties. Immediately, he shoved two inside of me and started pumping them in and out, in and out, over and over, until I could barely breathe. The whole time he stayed so close to me, watching my every reaction, feeling my body and reading my thoughts. And when he spoke again, it was so low and gravely, like he was the one hanging by a thread. “I can’t wait to fuck you, Daphne. I can’t wait to feel all of this wetness on my cock.”
On the one hand, I wanted him to shut the hell up. On the other, I could have heard him talk dirty to me all night long. Because not a moment later, his thumb started pressing down on the bundle of nerves and I could have sworn I blacked out for a second. My breath caught in my throat, my eyes rolled into the back of my head, and my whole body felt alight and on fire all at the same time. And when I fell over the edge, Max brought his mouth to mine and started kissing me deeply again, swallowing all of my gasps and whimpers. I moaned into to him and the kiss as my body shook with pleasure while his hand was still pressing down on me, wringing every ounce of gratification he could out of me.
Max’s hand was still down my pants. His body still mostly pressed to my side. His lips still kissing mine with slight pressure to make me almost forget we were trapped in an elevator. I couldn’t have cared less, actually. And now that my orgasm haze was starting to wear off, I was pissed at myself for how easily I went from seeing red, to I wanted Max to take so much advantage of me that it should be illegal.
Suddenly, I felt off and slightly uncomfortable. It was as if the walls of the elevator were closing in on me while I was looking around to get my bearings. What the hell was wrong with me? I know it wasn’t because it had been a while since my last sexual encounter with a man—not including the little session with Max last night in the bathroom of that club. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I sensed that this thing with Max wasn’t as sexy and adventurous as it had been a little while ago. If anything, it made me feel a lot more confused about where I stood with him. Was this just a hookup for him? Was it only a hookup for me, too? Did we want to see where this went between us? Or were we going to keep doing this…ugh, I didn’t know what I should call this anymore, either. Because even thinking to myself that it was only a hookup felt wrong. I had been hoping that Max felt something for me other than the physical attraction between us. It scared the crap out of me how much I wanted that to be true. But then I reminded myself that he was a guy. And guys only thought with their dicks, right? So, of course, that’s probably all he was thinking about anyway. One thing was for certain; all I wanted right then and there was to get the hell out of this elevator immediately.
I broke off the kiss with Max and started to right my clothes hoping he would get the hint. Thankfully he did, because he took a step or two backwards to give me my space. Better still, he didn’t say a word while I buttoned the last few buttons of my blouse. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to Max right now.
“Hey, slow down, can you look at me for a second?” he asked gently.
I wasn’t sure what was freaking me out more, the fact that he was right; I hadn’t made eye contact with him since we stopped fooling around. Or, that Max sounded genuinely concerned about this development. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of what happened between us, it was more that I couldn’t think of anything to say to him because my brain was still trying to process everything. I was on emotional and informational overload and felt myself falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. And I knew that if I looked at Max, it would only make everything more complicated. See, the thing that kind of sucked was that no matter how much I tried to be cool and casual about sex, it was always anything but casual. My heart always got in the way of my brain and fucked things up.
But for right now in this elevator, and for the sake of not having to try to explain all the inner workings of my thought process to Max, I relaxed the tension I could feel had slipped onto my face like a mask since that fabulous orgasm he gave me, and met his concerned gaze.
“That was great, thanks,” I told him.
Did I just thank him for an orgasm? Yes, you did, I thought to myself.
“Thanks?” he asked in a confused voice “That’s all you’re going to say to me right now?”
Feeling completely out of my depth, I searched my thoughts to find the right word, the right phrase, the right look, or the right whatever the hell I needed to get me out of this elevator faster.
I settled for honesty.
“Max, I don’t know what you’re expecting to hear right now. All I can tell you is that I have so many things running through my head and all of it is freaking me out. So I would really, really, really appreciate it if you would pick that phone up again,” my head nodded to the emergency telephone behind him, “and call whoever you were talking to before—”
“Before what?” he asked
“You know what I’m talking about, Max.”
“You’re being serious right now,” he said almost incredulous.
He must have thought I was being ridiculous...and he was right. I was being ridiculous. But I would say and do whatever I needed to get out of here so I could think straight. I could at least admit to myself that being this close to Max in this tiny elevator where he had just made me come so fast it was borderline embarrassing, wasn’t helping me one bit. He was that distracting.
Keeping his gaze on me, he smoothly reached for the emergency phone on the elevator panel and brought it to his ear.
“Yeah, Paulie, it’s Max again.” He sneakily smiled in response to whatever Paulie said in return. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks again, man. I owe you one.”
“After you, Daphne,” he said and bent at the waist a little giving me a tiny bow.
“Thank you. Good night, Max,” I said to him, sprinting out of the elevator. Behind me, I could hear Max chatting it up to the person I assumed must be the Paulie he had been talking to. But I kept right on walking through the lobby and onto the street. And now that I could feel the actual solid ground at my feet and smell the fresh New York City polluted air, I felt myself relaxing a little bit more with each step I took away from our building…and from Max. Reaching the nearest subway entrance in record time, I walked down the stairs to catch the first leg of my trip home to Queens. Since I had started working at the station, I dreaded the train rides home after a long day. But tonight, I welcomed it because I needed the time to clear my head. I was halfway through the first half of my ride, more than just snoozing when I felt my phone buzzing in my hands. It was a text from Max.
I like you.
That’s it. No funny business, no sarcasm, no making fun of me for freaking out in the elevator and after we fooled around, no ulterior motive. Just him telling me that he liked me as if we were teenagers. I couldn’t help it; my smile widened as a blush of crimson hit my cheeks. As if on cue, it felt as if an army of butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach, fluttering their tiny wings. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had experienced that feeling of nervous excitement because of a man. Way before my last boyfriend definitely...high school? I don’t know but I knew it was a long, long time ago. Maybe too long. But somehow within those simple three little words of his text, Max was able to make me feel like a teenage girl again with a huge crush that wasn’t letting up any time soon. Even though it was still a little weird to see Max in any light other than the I’m-so-full-of-myself-and-I’m-here-to annoy-the-hell-out-of-you Max that was usually in circulation. If he could strip himself bare and tell me he felt a little something for me, it was time I admitted it to myself, too. So, I ponied up and texted him back.
The Better Man (Allen Brothers Series Book 2) Page 15