by Linzi Basset
“How could I have been so reckless,” he berated himself. His voice sounded hoarse in the quiet cab of the car.
He hadn’t gone to Jack’s house with the intention of having sex with Joanne. He’d just wanted to be close to her, to ensure that she was safe and secure. All he had planned to do was to quietly sit there watching her, drinking in her beauty as she slept.
His mind wandered back to the news that Keon had shared with them earlier. He had been shaken at the vision that had flared in his mind at the time, of Joanne cuddling a tiny baby in her arms while gazing lovingly into Max’s eyes.
Max barked out a laugh. “I can imagine the catatonic fit she’ll have at that thought.”
Nobody would believe that Master Jag, the lover of variety, had dreams of babies. Most of his friends would outright laugh at that notion. So had he, for that matter, when he’d realized what he was daydreaming about.
“Even if I were ready for that kind of commitment, Joanne just suffered a year-long ordeal. She needs to find her feet, not be saddled with a baby she doesn’t want.”
The reality struck home once again. The possibility of her being pregnant was real, especially after the number of climaxes he’d had inside her the previous night.
His palm hit the steering wheel with a hard whack. “Fuck! You just can’t do right by her, can you?” He was the older, the wiser one and as a Dom, the one with the control. He should’ve thought of it before having sex with her, but she’d been so sweetly seductive, he’d lost the ability to think straight.
The drawn-out sigh carried him through his front gate and up the driveway toward the front of his house. He was surprised to notice Jack’s truck parked there.
“Probably to give me another lecture,” he muttered as he pushed through the front door. The murmur of voices and bursts of laughter guided him toward the large open living area that faced the swimming pool. He came to a halt under the arched entrance.
“Damn, I forgot they were coming for a visit,” he mumbled sotto voce as he recognized Paul and Regina Blackmore, sitting on either side of Joanne on one of the oversized sofas. Jack was leaning against the fireplace with a content smile on his face.
“Finally, he decides to grace us with his presence,” Jack said dolefully when he noticed Max hesitating in the doorway.
“Had I known to expect company, mate, I would’ve been home earlier,” Max quipped sharply, his tone clearly portraying his annoyance at Jack for not warning him in advance.
Max’s gaze was caught by deep amethyst pools when Joanne’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice. A question that Max couldn’t decipher flashed in their depths. His lips curved in a reassuring smile. His eyes followed the silky dark tresses as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. His breath hitched in his throat.
She was wearing his collar—openly and without any coercion.
“Max, my boy! It’s been a while,” Paul greeted him jovially. He got up and yanked Max closer in a bear hug. Max always felt like a long-lost son returning home when the huge man greeted him.
He had to swallow back the lump that formed in his throat, like he always did, whenever he was in their presence. They always treated him like one of their own, from the day he was orphaned at sixteen when his parents had died in a car crash.
Max had refused to go and live with his aged aunt in London. She’d been only too happy to sign over her guardianship to the Blackmores, who had insisted he live with them. He’d inherited a substantial amount of money after his parent’s death, which Paul had guided him to invest and grow from a young age.
Max’s eighteenth birthday present to himself had been an apartment, close to college. It had been a no brainer at the time, Jack had moved in with him. Paul and Regina hadn’t blinked an eye at the decision. They had trust in how the two youngsters had been brought up. They had been responsible and mature way above others of the same age.
“Come and give me a kiss, Maximilian,” Regina ordered with widespread arms. Joanna smiled at the pained expression that crossed Max’s face. Apart from his own mother, only Regina and Joanne dared to use his full name.
“I hope you don’t mind, mate, Dad and I have started the barbeque. I’ve raided your fridge and found some very succulent looking ribs. I figured it would be an improvement over your usual mid-week Chinese take-out,” Jack said as he passed Max a cold beer.
“Of course not,” Max replied, still trying to figure out why they were all gathered at his house in the first place.
“Let’s go and see what’s in Max’s pantry,” Regina said as she got up. “We can’t just have protein for dinner.” She gave Max a sharply reproachful look. “Chinese take-out, Maximilian? Didn’t you learn anything from me?” She walked closer and tapped him on the nose. He couldn’t shake the feeling of a young child being reprimanded. “This big body of yours needs proper nutrition.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said dutifully amidst Jack’s deep laughter in the background. Then he was engulfed in a tight hug.
“Thank you, Max, for finding my little girl and bringing her back home safely. We’ll be forever in your debt.”
Max smiled at her. “No one is in my debt. Joanne is back where she belongs and that’s all that matters.”
“Yes, talking about back where she belongs,” Paul’s deep voice was warning enough for Max. “It seems you and I need to have a little talk, young man. My little girl living with you? I’m not sure I like the notion of that.”
“Dad, please. I keep telling you that I am not a little girl anymore. I’m a grown-up,” Joanne huffed in a cajoling tone.
Max stared at her, his mind rushing around as the cogs in his brain tried to connect the dots of the conversation. Jack pumped him in the back and whispered from the side of his mouth, “She decided this is where she wants to stay. I brought her stuff over this morning on my way to work.”
“Thanks for the advance warning, asshole,” Max whispered back.
“My pleasure, fucker,” Jack said with another deep chuckle.
“You, little lady,” Paul said as he brushed his hand over Joanne’s hair, “will always be my little girl and no matter how well I know Max, it’s my duty to look out for you. Besides, Maximilian,” Paul stressed the use of his full name, “you are ten years older than her.”
“Oh, here we go,” Jack taunted Max with a slap on the shoulder. “I’ll get the ribs on the fire and leave the two of you to box this out—”
“There will be no fisticuffs! Do you hear me, Dad?” Joanne slammed her fists on her hips.
Max couldn’t hold back the tender smile which Paul and Regina intercepted with relieved looks. He pulled Joanne into his arms and kissed her gently on the lips.
“I’m a big boy, baby and I assure you I can take care of myself but if you hear me cry for help, you’re welcome to come running, all guns blazing.”
Joanne narrowed her eyes. “I’m glad you find this so amusing, Maximilian. In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve never been able to best my father in a fight.”
“Don’t give him ideas, Jo.” He laughed at her expression and cupped her face, staring deep into her eyes, completely ignoring the two older people watching. “Thank you, luv. You have no idea what it means to find you here in my house . . . wearing my collar.”
“This is where I belong. I realized that once again last night but know this, Maximilian, we will have a talk. A long one. I have certain conditions—”
Max silenced her with another deep kiss. “Later, baby. For now, don’t spoil my joy.”
He hugged her close and buried his face in her fragrant hair. He closed his eyes and allowed her essence to fill his mind, his heart and his soul. Elation surged through him. Finally, his life had direction.
“Now, off you go. I’m starving.” He glanced at Regina. “And I can’t think of anything more mouthwatering than your potato gratin and mushy peas to go with the ribs. I’ve been craving them lately.”
“Then you shall have them. Come, my dear
, let’s get busy.” Regina and Joanne walked toward the kitchen with their arms around each other.
“It’s a sin that she had to color her gorgeous golden hair dark,” Paul said with watery eyes as he watched them leave.
“It was necessary for her to keep her disguise intact. I’m sure that she’ll let it grow back . . . once she’s ready,” Max said in a quiet voice.
“What are you saying? Once she’s ready?”
“She’s been through a lot. We need to give her time to come to grips that it’s all in the past. She has to make the decisions about the direction her life is going to take. That includes something as simple as coloring her hair.”
“You’re right but I can’t get over how strong my little girl had to have been to survive on her own for so long, especially in the role that she had to play in the process.” Paul’s gaze darkened. “Jack told me that she hadn’t been raped,” his voice cracked on the last word. “Is that the truth or is he trying to spare us.”
“She wasn’t raped.” Max shook his head. “As much as it pained me to even think about it, Joanne would never have given in; she would’ve killed herself before she would’ve allowed anyone to defile her. I can only imagine how difficult it had to have been to watch the other women suffer a fate she’d been able to escape.”
“I thank the lord every day that she was saved from such horror.”
“She carries a lot of guilt because of that. You need to realize that it’s going to take some time for her to become the carefree young woman we used to know.”
Paul nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look down his nose at Max. “Now, young man, what exactly are your intentions with my daughter? I might love you like my own son but goddammit, Max, you’re ten years older than her.”
“And you are eight years older than Aunt Regina,” Max reminded him in a calm voice. “Age isn’t a factor and you know that better than anyone . . . not when you love that person more than life itself.”
“And you do? Love Joanne?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And this you decided overnight the moment she returned to the US?” Paul kept prodding.
Max shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He had a suspicion that Paul already knew the answer. Jack was too close to his father not to have told him the entire sordid tale.
“No. Joanne and I were a couple five years ago and yes, now I do deserve that fist in the face. I was the one who broke her heart then . . . ugh! Fucking hell!” He puffed and covered his nose when pain exploded in his face as Paul did exactly that.
“Here. You’re bleeding,” Paul said in an even voice, holding out a pristine white handkerchief. “Don’t give me that look, Max. What the fuck did you expect? Had I known about it then, I would have wiped the floor with you.”
Max started talking then, giving the same detailed explanation to Paul, as he’d done with Jack. He didn’t keep anything back. Jack’s parents were aware of the lifestyle they led and had never judged them. Paul wasn’t all too happy to know that his little princess daughter had followed in their footsteps.
“My daughter clearly has feelings for you, Max but I warn you, hurt her again—”
“It’s not going to happen. I love her and all I want to do is make her happy.”
“In an open relationship? I don’t hear the word commitment or marriage coming from your lips, Max.”
“When the time is right, but I’m not going to push her. Not now. I refuse to take advantage of her vulnerability at the moment, Uncle Paul.”
“That’s what I needed to hear. Very well, Max. I entrust my daughter into your care. I know you will look after her, but I warn you, don’t make me regret my decision.”
“Is this tête-à-tête going to take much longer?” Jack asked from the open sliding doors leading outside. “I need help at the grill. Get your lazy ass out here, mate. Dad, grab us some more beers, won’t you?”
The evening was over too quickly. Now that everyone knew about him and Joanne, Max couldn’t stop touching her. His hands didn’t stray far from her body. Either with a loving slide over her cheek, a brief hug of affection or a possessive hand curled around the back of her neck.
Joanne reciprocated with a fair amount of touching. She basked in the attention Max gave her and loved how she could openly flirt with him without worrying what her parents’ reaction would be.
The only dark cloud that colored her vision of their future, was the discussion they’d had at Precision Secure a week ago. The man responsible for her abduction was still out there. The fear, that she hadn’t voiced out loud, had been that Sheikh Juhayman bin Mohammed might find out who and what Jarrah Farooq really is. And when he did—not if, because Joanne knew her abductor would do anything in his power to keep her quiet—he would come for her.
Dabir’s cruelty, when she’d first arrived in Nadqan, would be child’s play to what Juhayman would do to her. She’d seen his methods of persuasion, as he called it. She didn’t have to imagine what he’d do a traitor.
She knew.
Sheikh Juhayman bin Mohammed would skin her alive and make her watch as he fed her skin to the wolves. A more painful death was hard to imagine.
“No dark thoughts, baby. Not tonight. Come, luv, it’s time for you to tell me why your shoes are next to mine in my closet. How did I get so lucky?”
Joanne walked into Max’s embrace and tilted her head for his kiss. She closed her eyes to ban the frightful thoughts from her mind as she gave herself over to the passion of his lips.
“You don’t like my shoes in your closet?” She teased as she slipped from his arms and walked toward the stairs. “I suppose that means I have to move to one of the spare rooms, then.”
She started climbing the stairs, deliberately swaying her hips in a seductive invitation. Her eyes were twinkling when she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Ah well, I suppose it’s a good thing I brought Master Blaster with me.”
“Master Blaster? You’re asking for a spanking on your first night back, luv. Who the hell is Master Blaster and what’s he doing in my house?”
“Why, Master Jag, he’s here to see to my sexual frustrations, of course. I mean, if I’m going to be lonesome in a spare room, I need a big cock to pound my hungry . . . eek! Put me down. You’re going to break our necks! Maximilian, stop that!”
“If your pussy is hungry, Master Jag’s cock will be the only one doing the pounding,” Max growled as he flung her on his bed and started tearing her clothes from her body.
“These are new clothes! Max, no . . . haha,” she started to laugh when he muttered his frustration, failing to get her bra unclipped.
“I’ll buy you some more. Sorry babe, but this sexy white piece of lace has to . . . go,” he promptly tore her bra in two halves and flung it to the ground. His clothes followed the same route.
There was something insanely hot about watching a man tear off his clothes with such economy. Joanne was almost panting by the time he stood next to the bed, hands low on his hips. His eyes trailed over her naked body displayed like spoils of war.
“You look fucking delicious. Open your legs for me, Jo. Ah, you know better. Wider . . . and pull up your knees. Yes, fuck, what a sight.”
He sat down between her thighs and trailed the tip of his finger on the inside of her leg, over her stomach and ended with teasing circles around her nipples.
“So responsive,” he uttered in a deep voice, his eyes on her stone-hard nubs.
“Max—”
“Shh . . . this moment is for me. I haven’t taken the time to introduce my hands, my skin and my tongue to the feel and taste of you. Not properly. Tonight, I’m going to take a leisurely stroll over all the nooks and crannies of your mouthwatering body. I’m going to feast on every inch of your skin, until I have carved the feel of it into my memory banks where it will be engraved forever.”
Joanne moaned as he traced the curve of her breasts with his hands and flipped his
thumbs over her nipples.
“Do you know why, Joanne?” he asked with his lips buried in the valley between her breasts.
“Wh-y?” she managed to stammer as he licked a slow path of seduction over the slope of her breasts.
“Because you’re it, luv. You are my forever.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I urge you to reconsider, Sheikh Juhayman,” Paul tried to pacify the fuming man. The sheikh was pacing the living room with long furious strides. They were at the luxurious safe house in Rockville, where Paul had arranged for him to stay. It was evident that his patience was running thin.
Paul glanced toward the six guards who stood to one side. Their faces were a reserved mask, but he could swear that he detected fear in their eyes. His gaze returned to the man who was glowering at him. Paul had done extensive research on Juhayman bin Mohammed. He had been the leader of his own army for many years. He was known for his cruel instinct. It was how he forced others to respect him . . . or rather, fear him. His followers knew that if they didn't do what was expected they'd end up in a shallow grave or worse, left for the scavengers in the desert.
According to what Paul had been able to uncover, once a man had been drafted into the Sheikh’s army, he never left. He was to serve him for life—however short that turned out to be. That was the kind of leader he was, no morals, no conscience, no compassion.
“Reconsider killing that bastard and his whore? No, Burgess, that’s never going to happen. I’m tired of waiting. We move tomorrow,” he sneered.
“And achieve what? Max Shaw is co-owner of a successful security firm. Believe me, you won’t get closer than fifty feet from his front gate, before you’re caught.” Paul dragged in a deep breath. “I have a suggestion.”
“Well? Do I need to drag it out of you? I warn you, Burgess, if you’re trying to double cross me, you won’t see the sunrise,” Juhayman said with a cruel glint in his eyes.
“I know how to draw Max Shaw out. If we can coerce him to come to us, half the battle is won.”