The bathroom door flung open. Max rushed to her side, grabbing her fluffy pink towel from the counter on the way.
He turned off the cold water that had been streaming over her head. He picked her up and wrapped the towel around her quickly. Max made her step over the side and sat her on the toilet lid. Sloane’s teeth hadn’t stopped chattering, even though she was out from under the glacial spray. Wrapping her arms around herself tightly, she tried to warm herself. Max knelt in front of her, rubbing his warm, calloused hands up and down her arms and creating a mouthwatering friction, heating her skin wherever his hands were…and some places they weren’t.
“Damn, woman,” he barked. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
She merely looked at him in response. His eyes were wild, worry etched into them. The poor man’s clothes were wrinkled and had wet patches all over them from when he had picked her up.
He had the best lips ever. Sloane was tempted to lean over and lick them to see if they tasted as good as they did last night. He stopped rubbing her arms. The loss of heat pulled a whimper past her lips. He took her chin in his hand, studying her face as he tenderly touched the throbbing spot on the back of her head.
“Thankfully you don’t seem to have done much damage, but you’re gonna have quite the knot and a mother of a headache.”
“Already had the headache,” she murmured with a grimace.
“Come on, I’ll help you to your room.”
Something flashed in Max’s eyes before his body went rigid. He took a visible breath, then closed his eyes as he motioned to her. Glancing down, Sloane found her towel had slipped down far enough to show a lot of cleavage and part of her left nipple. Oh my God! Max had just gotten an eyeful of her breast. Come to think of it, he’d pulled her out of the tub. Max had seen every part of her naked. Buck fucking naked. Sloane was mortified.
“Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry, Max!”
She pulled the traitorous towel up, securing it better as she stood. Too bad it left a lot of leg showing that way, but at least it covered everything important.
“You’re sorry?” He cracked an eye open to verify that she was now decent. “I should apologize for bursting in, but I was afraid you knocked yourself out when you didn’t answer me.”
“Thank you. I’m…I’m gonna go get dressed. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Sloane raced past him, locking the bedroom door behind her. More to keep herself in than to keep him out. After opening her panty drawer, she stopped and stared. What color would get Max’s undivided attention? She groaned at her stupidity. She didn’t need to think about the sexiness that was Max. She needed to figure out what to do about her failing relationship with Brody.
She grabbed a pair of panties at random and the matching bra. After she was finished getting dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, she pulled her hair back and secured it with an elastic band. Except for her bangs—they were too short to reach the tie. Without a need to impress the sexy man that had already seen her drunk, hung over, and now naked in a heap at the bottom of her bathtub, she quickly put on some mascara and went to Max.
***
Max
Maybe he should ask her to use her shower. He needed an ice cold one to control his cock; it pushed against his zipper painfully. He’d barely registered her naked in the tub, he was so worried about her. It wasn’t until he was checking to see if she had broken anything or split anything open that he’d noticed her towel had fallen enough to reveal one perfectly pink nipple. He wanted to lower his head and take the bud between his lips.
He walked out of her bathroom, unsuccessfully brushing the wrinkles from his shirt while making his way back to the kitchen. Once he’d stepped around the corner, he found Brody looking down at the kitchen table. Confusion painted his face at the sight of not one, but two mugs of coffee. His head snapped up when he heard Max’s footsteps.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Max answered. Better to let him think he didn’t know Sloane was this tool bag’s girlfriend.
“This is my girlfriend’s place.”
“Sloane is your girlfriend?”
The look on Brody’s face was a combination of uncertainty and anger. But Max was saved from further inquisition—just then Sloane strode in brushing her bangs from her eyes again.
“Thanks again, Max, I know you weren’t expecting—” She looked up and screeched to a stop. “Brody?”
“Sloane. What the hell is Max doing here?”
“You know each other?” She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. All the color drained from her face. Max wanted to wipe that look off of her face.
“We met the other night, hanging out with Foster.” Max spoke calmly. No telling what this looked like to Brody. Max still had wet spots on his shirt and Sloane obviously had just gotten out of the shower. Add the two cups of coffee and the early hour, and it probably looked like Max had spent the night. Would serve him right. Brody was cheating on her and it sounded like it was nothing new.
What was worse though, was that from Sloane’s phone conversation last night, she knew all about it and still stayed with him. Couldn’t she see this relationship was toxic? She needed a man who knew how to take care of his woman.
“I came by this morning to give Sloane a ride. She was a little too tipsy to drive home last night.”
Brody gave her an accusing look. Hypocrite. “I thought you were at Foster’s last night for dinner? Where the hell were you?”
“I was!”
Max narrowed his eyes. “I was there too. Foster invited me, and good thing too. She’d needed someone to look after her to get home safe.”
“Oh, well I can drive you, sweetheart. Thanks for making sure my girl got home, Max.”
Brody smiled, but the look reminded Max of a snake. His entire demeanor changed. He slithered over to where Sloane stood and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. Max felt jealousy well up inside him. He wanted to drill that asshole in the face before plunging his tongue in Sloane’s mouth. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her why she should be with him instead of that dick head. He needed to claim her as his. Whoa. Where did that come from? Max counted backward from five before he felt controlled enough to speak.
“Sure thing. I’ll just be going then since you’ve got a ride. See ya around, Sloane. Later, man.”
Max acknowledged Brody with a nod before he turned, letting himself out of Sloane’s apartment.
Chapter Four
Sloane
Sloane sat in the passenger seat of Brody’s car with her hands in her lap. Her gaze stayed fixed out the side window, watching the streets speed by. It was strange and yet exciting to see a man so concerned about her well-being. Max had rushed in to help and it warmed her inside more than she wanted to admit. She was shocked when she found Brody in her kitchen only minutes after being naked with Max…okay, so she hadn’t been naked in the way she wanted to be, but naked all the same.
Sloane wanted Max, but knew she couldn’t have him. She was committed to Brody. Plus, she was certain Max had no shortage of women falling all over him, so she wouldn’t stand a chance. She didn’t want another relationship that she had to compete to stay in.
“Look, I’m sorry I missed dinner last night. Let me make it up to you tonight. Dinner, maybe a little dancing, it’ll be nice. Then we can go back to my place.”
“Back to my place” always meant sex. Over the course of their relationship the sex had usually been good, but he cared more about his own pleasure than he did about his partner. He was a selfish lover. Still, Sloane cared about him. She sighed.
She’d met him on a blind double date with Foster and Bella. He’d been incredibly charming and easy on the eyes, with his short, dark blond hair and pale green eyes. He wasn’t very tall for a man, but his charisma more than made up for it. He’d swept her off her feet, and in return, she’d tried to be everything he wanted.
But he always wanted her to go down on him. She’d been ashamed to admit to him that she’d never done that before. Sure, she’d had other lovers, but none she felt comfortable enough to experience that with. She was more conservative when it came to sex, but he’d seemed okay with that at the start of their relationship.
Brody had looked like a kid in a candy store when she’d told him he would be her first. His excitement had fueled her own at first. But Sloane had barely had her lips around him when he fisted her hair painfully and thrust himself down her throat. The forcefulness and depth caused her throat to burn and her gag reflex to go into overdrive. Vomiting all over him wasn’t the way she had planned to end the evening. He’d left pissed off and she’d spent the rest of the night alone, crying herself to sleep. Never again.
It wasn’t long after that when she’d caught him in bed with another woman. He’d said it was just sex. He needed someone to do the things she wouldn’t. That he loved her and wouldn’t do it again. Knowing it was all bullshit, Sloane still couldn’t bring herself to end it. It was her fault after all. She wasn’t a good enough lover for him.
“It’s Sunday. I have to finish up a spreadsheet for Mr. Marek and be in early tomorrow.”
“I try to make it right and you shut me out,” he spat, shaking his head. “Typical.”
“I’m sorry, Brody. Mondays are crazy. It helps if I get in earlier than Mr. Marek so I can have things ready for his arrival.”
“Why can’t you see to my needs like you see to his every fuckin’ whim?”
“Because he’s my boss and that’s what he pays me for,” Sloane yelled right back.
It seemed like every conversation had ended in an argument the past few months. She was sick and tired of it. Why couldn’t she have a relationship like her cousin, Mirabella? Bella had a great man in Foster. Loyal, thoughtful, and dependable. He never forced her to do anything. They were getting married in a few weeks and they seemed more in love each day. She could admit she was jealous. She wanted that for herself. The happiness that came with a man who was truly in love with you. She pictured Max. The way his eyes danced when he’d laughed at dinner last night. The thought added to the warmth low in her belly. He came across as the type of man who made it his mission to ruin a woman for all other men. Sloane involuntarily shivered just thinking about him.
“Don’t tell me you’re cold? It’s hot as hell in here.”
Sloane didn’t bother answering. They had arrived at Bella’s house, finally. As soon as he put the car in park, she opened the door, quickly getting out. It was horrible, but she couldn’t wait to be away from him. That should’ve told her something right there.
Brody’s door opened. Cautiously, she turned around at the top of the stairs on the front porch. He stood by the open car door with his arms crossed over the hood. Great, show time. Mentally, she rolled her eyes.
“Have a great time, sweetheart,” he called, talking loud enough for everyone inside to hear him. “I’ll call you later. We’ll finally have that alone time that we need.” He winked before folding himself back into his car to drive away.
Just what she needed. As she was trekking into the house, she noticed Max’s truck parked across the street in the same spot it had been last night. Sighing, she walked inside. Lovely. Bella was sitting at the dining room table with Foster hunched over her from behind. His arms were crossed over Bella’s shoulders. They were laughing. They were so happy, it almost made Sloane’s heart break for her own shitty relationship. Across from the happy couple sat Max.
“Hi, guys.” Sloane tried to sound chipper even though her headache from the morning was doing its best to creep back up.
Foster stood up and began marching toward her. He picked her up and spun her around once before setting her feet back on the floor. He had treated her like family from the first day they met. She had instantly liked him.
Bella sat smiling over what she could now see were wedding invitations. Max sat back in his chair stretching one arm over the back. The move put his expansive chest on display. She could make out more of the tattoo swirls on his arm. She had to drag her eyes away from him before she actually drooled on herself. The man was like sex on a stick and she wanted to lick every inch of him. Slowly and thoroughly.
Foster folded his arms, throwing her a mock glare. “You can pretend to be cheery all you want, Robertson, but we know better.”
“I don’t know what you’re babbling about, Hyland. I’m just fine.”
“Whenever a woman describes herself as ‘fine,’ she’s anything but.” He laughed.
Foster was a bit of a goof, but God love him, he knew how to lighten a room up. Sloane wandered over to Bella and kissed her cheek. They were more like sisters than cousins and best friends as long as either of them could remember.
“Maid of Honor reporting for duty.” Sloane’s smile was overenthusiastic. Feeling eyes on her, she turned her head. “Hey, Max.”
“Sloane.”
She loved her name on his lips. The way he’d said it in the past was more than just a name. It sounded like a promise. This time however, it sounded darker. Almost guarded. It shouldn’t affect her this way. It shouldn’t matter how he said her name. Not before and not now. It did, though. She couldn’t take her traitorous eyes from him. He didn’t even blink—just met the stare until she turned away. She had to break the connection. It was too much and yet not enough.
Sloane cleared her throat. “So, it looks like invitations are on the agenda today.”
“That’s right,” Bella chirped. “Grab one of those pens and here’s one half of the guest list. Want a Bloody Mary or a Screwdriver?”
“God no! Not after last night.”
Mirabella snorted with laughter. Sloane rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back her own chuckle. She risked a peek across the table from where she’d taken a seat, and her eyes locked once again with Max’s. He slowly shook his head for a moment before standing up to take a seat in the living room. He wasn’t acting like the guy she’d met last night. Did she do something wrong? More importantly, why did it matter?
Bella glanced up from filling out the address on a cream envelope. “What’s going on with Brody? I heard him outside earlier.”
“He wants to make it up to me for missing dinner. He got stuck at work.”
Bella scoffed. “We both know that’s bullshit.”
“Bella…”
“Don’t ‘Bella’ me! You’re my family and I love you. I can’t stand watching him hurt you over and over and you just take it. You make excuses and defend him. What the hell, Sloane?”
“It’s not his fault!” Sloane yelled back. Humiliation colored her face. Mirabella didn’t know she didn’t measure up to what Brody wanted in the bedroom. He wanted someone adventurous. He wanted someone to do things that she wasn’t comfortable doing, and when she resisted that’s when things had begun to change. That’s when he changed. There’s no way Bella would understand.
“Ladies—” Foster marched into the room. “Enough. Bella, sweetheart, as much as I agree with you, this isn’t our decision. It’s Sloane’s.”
“Thank you,” Sloane whispered.
“Oh no. Don’t go thanking me yet. You need to get your head outta your ass and realize we only want you happy. Before you try to interrupt me and lie, we both know you aren’t.”
Sloane cast her eyes down, not wanting to meet his gaze. They both loved her. She knew that, but it wasn’t the same as having someone to hold at night. To chase away the fears and show her there were better days ahead. They had that.
“All right, Max and I are gonna head out. Don’t scratch up any furniture with your cat fights.” He winked again and headed for the living room where Max had sat silently listening to the whole conversation. Now she really felt like an ass. Great.
***
Max
How could cheating on her not be Brody’s fault? Max couldn’t wrap his mind around that. Unless she told him to go fuck around, it did
n’t make sense. The conversation—which he’d made no attempt to ignore—between her and Mirabella inclined him to believe she knew about more than one indiscretion. Maybe Foster could enlighten him a bit.
“What’s the story with those two?”
Foster sighed. “They’ve been seeing each other for about a year. He’s been screwing around almost as long. I try not to get involved, but Sloane is a sweet girl. She’s family. Even though I don’t volunteer information, if she asks me, I won’t lie either.”
“I get that. What I don’t get is why she stays. She’s beautiful. She seems smart and funny. Why waste her time with him when she could do better?”
Foster glanced over at him, a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth. Max tried to act like he didn’t notice. They rode in silence for a few miles before Foster had to press.
“Are you throwing your hat in the ring?”
“What are you talking about?” Max snapped.
“Sloane. You have a thing for her.” Foster laughed.
He had a thing for her, all right. Every time they were in the same room, he had to stop himself from touching her. After seeing Brody’s arm around her this morning, he’d wanted to throw her down and cover her with his body. Leaving only his scent on her. What the fuck. He wasn’t some kind of animal. He needed to stop thinking of her that way. She was off limits.
But as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking of the kiss they’d shared in the hallway of her building. Brody called her cold at the strip club, but he couldn’t reconcile the woman Brody spoke about with Sloane. She was so hot; he’d felt like he would burn up in flames when his tongue met hers.
“Earth to Max.”
“Huh? Oh, it’s a shame.”
“Oh yeah, you’re interested.”
“Fuck you, man.”
“That much, huh?” Foster cackled with uncontrollable laughter.
Best Man For The Job (The Men of Fear Incorporated Book 1) Page 3