KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three

by Juliet Braddock

  Cold and shivering, Maxine found little shelter beneath the hood of Drew’s vest, but she soldiered on, taking two steps at a time.

  A race ensued once they’d reached the top with Maxine and Drew clearly in a bid to outrun Etienne. However, they made sure to calm themselves down before heading into the quiet lobby.

  They’d managed to slip into the elevator just as Etienne strolled through the front door. With a tap to the “Door Close” button, Drew made sure they’d be returning to their room alone.

  Inside the suite, however, Maxine began to strip off her clothes.

  “What the hell are you doing now?”

  “Well, since Etienne interrupted our adventure in the wild…” she said, sliding up to him in nothing but her ballerina flats.

  “Oh, little one…” Drew began, his voice touched with disappointment. “You wanted Rain Sex under the gazebo, didn’t you?”

  Sadly, she nodded. “Uh-huh…”

  “Where’s your trench?” he asked, suddenly turning to the closet. With a toss of the raincoat, he called out to her, “Put this on…”

  “But…Rain Sex…has to be…naked…”

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he minded her with a sour face. “I know that, little one.” Torso bare, he also reached for the extra blanket on the shelf and passed that to Maxine. “I just don’t want the rest of the world to see you before I fuck you in it…”

  And then the rapid patter of a fist hit the door. “Monsieur…”

  “Tell him to go away…” Maxine begged as she shoved her arms into her coat. If clothing could talk, this little number would have so many stories to tell.

  “You can sit outside the room, Etienne!” Drew shouted through the closed door. “It’s not raining in the hallway.”

  Dragging the desk chair with him, Drew pulled it into the tiny foyer. “Here you go. Nice and comfy…”

  “I’ll be leaving in a bit,” Etienne was quick to remind Drew. “My replacement will be—”

  “Yeah, tell him to keep the chair…”

  With the thud of a wrecking ball, Drew slammed the door and kicked off his shoes. “You,” he pointed his finger. “On the terrace….”

  Bouncing up and down, she splashed in the tiny puddles that had already formed on the wraparound deck. Meanwhile, Drew busied himself by curtaining the wrought iron railing with the blanket. He had to make certain that no one across the river with a telescope could see what they were doing.

  “Come here, Maxine…” he said, ripping at his belt buckle. “I need you…right here…right now…in the rain.”

  A flash of lightening lit up the blackened sky, but nothing could deter them from their mission. Flopping down to the rattan lounger, Maxine hoped it would hold them both.

  “Now, off with the coat…” he ordered.

  Maxine pulled away her jacket only slightly at first, teasing him with a shake. As she tugged the coat away, she could feel the rain draining down between her breasts while she watched Drew struggle out of those wet, white pants. Certainly the chill did nothing to deter his arousal.

  “Cock…” she murmured as she settled back on the soggy cushion and opened her legs wide. Water, water everywhere—she thought she just might slide right on to him. “Need Kind Sir’s cock…”

  “Need to get you back to New York,” he countered. “You’ve forgotten all about Patience and Fortitude since we’ve been gone…”

  As he descended over her, Maxine reached out and asked, “May I, Sir?”

  The grin of a Cheshire cat spread across his face. “You may…”

  Pellets of rain nearly pierced her skin. Already so tender with want, her nipples felt so alive against the sting of the cold torrent showering them. While she took him in her hand, she could taste the salt and sweat rolling down Drew’s face as she stretched out to kiss him.

  Then Drew eased himself over her, and the woven bamboo seat shifted beneath them, creaking with every slight move. Still, he couldn’t resist the buck of her hips as she guided him inside her. “Fuck me, my little slut…”

  Slippery bodies writhed against each other under the crash of thunder and blaze of lightning. Hard and fast and sloppy, Maxine met his every thrust while the downpour continued in the darkness of night. Her hair was soaked, her body drenched, but she carried on, slipping and sliding against him. The frigid feel of the night air mingling with the prick of each raindrop relegated her to the depths of her desires, where pleasure and pain brought her to the thrilling heights of pleasure.

  “Fuck me harder, Drew…harder…” she wailed as he dug his nails into her breasts, just to get a firm grasp of slick skin. “Fuck me in the rain…like the little slut I am…”

  “Come, dammit!” he cried out, losing his own hold on his gratification. “Right now…and tell me…”

  “Coming now…oh, yes, bite my nipples…oh, Drew…more!” she screamed as she dug her fingers into his dampened curls to pull him closer. “Can’t stop coming…keep fucking me…please…”

  Always one to oblige, Drew gave her just that. With the steady and slick drive of his cock, she shrieked in fervid lust. And Drew navigated her body with the precision of an Admiral, guiding her until they both just jumped overboard.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Yeh-esss!” she moaned in pure delight. “More…please more…fuck me…”

  Those sapphire blue eyes bore into her beautiful emeralds, watching as she begged him to take her with absolute abandon.

  “Hurt me, Drew!” she begged. “Hurt me, please…with your cock…please…”

  Now, they were both out of control as another bolt of thunder cracked above, rattling that tiny countryside town. He’d pinned her with his entire body as he hammered away, elongating the last few precious seconds of their collective orgasm.

  Even as he stilled above her, Maxine trembled in the midst of their rough loving. Given the weather, though, Drew was quick to lift her into his arms and carry her inside the room, forgetting the drenched clothes and blanket behind them. The door rattled as he carried her on toward the bathroom for a nice steamy bath before he tucked them both into bed.

  “Monsieur McKenzie…are you alright? What is going on in there?” Etienne demanded.

  “He really doesn’t wanna know,” Maxine muttered against Drew’s damp chest. “Guess he heard me…”

  “I think people in Paris probably heard you…” he said as he helped her to the bathroom floor and wrapped her in a thick velvety robe. “That was a showstopping performance, Mrs. Mack…”

  “That was so much fun!” she yelped as he began to draw a bath for two. “Can we do it on our terrace in the rain back home?”

  “Maybe…behind a screen,” he considered the possibility while Etienne continued to fuss outside their door. “And if you keep your mouth shut.”

  “Stop it out there!” Maxine hollered to their body guard as she bent around the open bathroom door. “We were just playing in the rain.”

  “Playing in the rain can get you arrested!” Etienne insisted as Maxine slammed the bathroom door to avoid any further discussion.

  Readily, she fell right into Drew’s open arms. “Did you hear him, Drew?”

  “Yeah, and fuck ‘em…”

  “You hired him…”

  “I hired him, but I married you…” he said, taking her hand and pulling her into the tub with him, sloshing the water all over the walls and floor. As the bath continued to fill, his lips found hers yet again. Round Two was about to begin. “And if I’m going to get arrested and share a cell with anyone, Maxine, I’d do it with you…”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Okay, little one, I don’t need to look at the menu to tell you that I already loathe this place…” Drew said, eyeing up the wine list of personal suggestions by the sommelier. Clearly, Cranky Drew was in need of a drink.

  “We just got here,” she reminded him. “What could possibly have twisted your boxer briefs in the five minutes since we arrived?”

  Le
Taillevent was indeed the finest restaurant in Paris, if not one of the top epicurean hubs worldwide—the perfect way to spend their final evening in Paris. Appropriately christened after the very first French cookbook author whose work dated back to the fourteenth century, the eatery boasted the most exquisite dishes in French cuisine, culling inspiration from several regions throughout the country.

  The private dining parlor on the second floor—accentuated with embroidered silk wallpaper and red lacquered finishes on the richly carved mantle and furniture—afforded them the ideal spot to celebrate their bittersweet final night in France. While the room could accommodate up to a party of a dozen people, a single table was set by the fireplace just for them.

  Quietude ensued, allotting them some time to reflect on their first expedition as husband and wife. Their cherished moments together, so completely alone, affirmed not just their love for each other but the vows they’d taken just two weeks ago. From their palatial suite at the Ritz to their own private dungeon in the castle, they’d already shared memories that most people would never encounter in an entire lifetime.

  Upon their return to Paris, they checked into the Plaza Athenée, so easily recognizable by its bright red awnings and flower-boxes that framed each and every window. The Royal Suite was everything and more that Maxine had envisioned. The rooms within provided picture-perfect views from every angle—the Eiffel Tower, the luxury shops on Avenue Montaigne and the courtyard framed by the vine-covered façade.

  Appointed with Empire era décor and delicate antiques from the time period, their temporary home away upheld simple majesty with canopied beds and a gigantic marble bathroom that rivaled that of their suite at the Ritz. And Drew was just delighted that he didn’t have to suffer the horrors of wearing a peach bathrobe.

  Throughout their final days in the city, they played at the Pompidou Center, with Drew attempting to sway Maxine toward his penchant for modern art. Climbing the hills of Montmartre, Maxine fell in absolute love with artists’ colony vibe on every corner of the steepest neighborhood in Paris. They’d made a stop at the Museum of Erotica, where Drew bought her an illustrated copy of BDSM Beauty and the Beast, written in French. They’d even managed a march up the steps to Sacre Coeur, which boasted the most spectacular view of the city.

  As their honeymoon neared its quiet end, they were both left feeling so sated and so very lucky to share their lives together. Even with the pall of the Dungeon break-in back in New York, they’d once again joined to support and comfort each other. And their celebration that evening was tainted only by Drew’s overwhelming love for the woman he married.

  “That son of a bitch maître d’ was checking out every last square inch of your flesh the entire way to our table,” Drew insisted over the menu.

  Maxine just loved when jealousy caught him in its stronghold. That red hue fanned out over his face, and those nostrils flared.

  “And I will go as far to say that he absolutely ogled your ass, Maxine,” Drew went on. In truth, Maxine was wearing quite a sassy little number that evening. The form-fitting, iris jersey dress by Armani that enhanced every curve in her body—from the gathers between her breasts to the ruching at the hip.

  “Oh, I’m sure he wasn’t, dear husband,” Maxine smiled and reached across the table to take his hand in hers. Admittedly, her gesture was of the patronizing nature.

  “You have not seen your ass in that dress, little one,” he said. “You’d know what I mean if you did…”

  “Perhaps I should err to your judgment,” Maxine relented. “No one knows my ass quite like you do…”

  Silenced by the entrance of the sommelier, Maxine snickered at the turn of their conversation. All the while, she had her own fantasies of her husband, playing in her filthy little mind. That stone-colored Burberry suit paired with a simple navy button-down shirt induced her own hankering to rip his clothes off.

  However, since their return to Paris, Drew had decided that they needed to practice behaving while in public. Yes, they did indeed have the run of that private dining room, but they also had an image to uphold back in New York. Drew’s downfall, though, was his inability to curtail his own lust.

  While Maxine had her naughty, sassy moments—to which she readily admitted her own very guilty conduct—one of them had to maintain a sense of control. In her submission, he’d taught her restraint, and Maxine fully intended to exude caution therein.

  With the wine chosen, they were left alone again, and Drew reached for her hand across the table. As always, he could read her thoughts just by the look in her eyes. And he smiled at her, apologetically.

  “You’re right, Maxine,” he admitted without a trace of reluctance.

  “Two indiscretions this evening, Kind Sir,” she teased. “Name them…”

  “My temper and my impure thoughts and foiled actions…”

  “And you said I’d make an awful Domme!”

  “You enjoy the pain too much, Maxine,” he retorted. “You’d be jealous of your own whip-wielding hand…”

  Dropping her head in mock irritation, she teetered under her breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right again!”

  “Damn you, in that fucking dress, though…”

  Rather than engaging in flirtation, however, Maxine sat up straight and folded her fingers into his. There was something on his mind, and she needed to get to the bottom of it. Yesterday.

  “Gonna talk to me, Monsieur Mack?”

  Drew shifted rather nervously in his seat and pulled at the top button of his shirt. Guilt plagued him. However, he was rather uncomfortable with soiling the last night of their honeymoon with an in-depth conversation on his concerns for their future.

  “You’ve been doing a lot of deep thinking lately, haven’t you?”

  “Well, a lot has happened in the last couple of weeks,” he said. “We both have so much to consider right now. Our lives are about to change again...”

  Drew certainly did have a lot on his mind. Any minute, he was about to find out about the Tony nominations. Maxine could only hope that they’d have the chance to finish dinner before the calls and texts began to pour in. Meanwhile, he worried about anything and everything he could imagine. She couldn’t just dismiss him.

  “We’ve endured change already, Drew,” she reasoned. “We survived. And we came out stronger. I didn’t marry you for the pretty times. I married you because I love what’s in that mind and in that soul.”

  “How about we try to enjoy this meal and the last night of our honeymoon together, Mrs. Mack?” he suggested.

  “Sounds,” she said, raising her glass to hers, “like the perfect plan…”

  And perfect their evening was, down to every last detail. Throughout dinner, they maintained a discreet intimacy between them—touching each other’s faces, holding hands, or just sitting so very close to each other for a few whispers—even though no one else was in the room. All the while, Maxine clung to the memories, knowing that there were many more down the road.

  They reminisced about their trip, and while neither one of them ever wanted to leave Paris, responsibilities on the other side of the ocean did indeed call.

  After dessert, neither one of them were quite ready to head back to the hotel with any urgency. It was a gorgeous spring evening, and with only a twenty-minute walk to the Plaza Athenée from the restaurant, Drew suggested they hoof it, with Etienne’s team following in their car.

  Strolling hand-in-hand wasn’t close enough for the McKenzies that evening, and they wrapped their arms around each other as they headed toward the Champs Elysees. A twinge of sadness enveloped her as she realized that this would be the last of Paris that she’d see for a while.

  Behind them, the Arc de Triomphe soared over the boulevard, with Place de la Concord facing them from the opposite end. Yes, it was almost like strolling through Times Square in New York, with all of the chain retail spots and tourists, but Maxine couldn’t resist one last glimpse before they headed home.

  Drew�
�s phone rang to disrupt their fleeting, sweet moments of peace. However, his eyes were smiling after he’d pulled his precious device from his pocket. “Jeffrey…”

  “Take it!” Maxine said with her own smile and released her arm from his waist.

  “What do you want?” Drew playfully barked into the phone. “Last seconds of my honeymoon here, you know…”

  “Don’t be an ass, Mack! Put me on speaker,” Jeffrey snorted. “Maxine, are you there? Will you smack him for me?”

  “Can’t do that, Boss!”

  “Okay, you honeymooners…I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing…but brace yourselves…” Jeffrey began. “Guess who’s got a Tony nomination?”

  “Yay!” Maxine’s glee echoed all the way down the block. “It’s your year!”

  “Fuckballs….” Drew shouted, so eager to get the gossip from Jeffrey. “What’s the chatter? What are the odds? Who’s up against me?”

  “Oh, they’re all losers!” Maxine said as Jeffrey rattled off the names of the other nominees.

  “And just so you know, the Times and USA Today have already stacked the odds in your corner,” Jeffrey added. “That’s never happened before, Drew. You’ve never been favored to win.”

  “Don’t remind me, asshole!” Drew spat. “Shit…this is fantastic news!”

  “Yeah, well…I know you’re my best friend, Drew, but no one deserves this more than you,” Jeffrey said. “We’re all rooting for you, buddy. And I think everyone in the theater community is, too. There were quite a few cheers at the press conference this afternoon when your name was announced.”

  “Jeffrey, thank you,” Drew said, his humility rising. “You’ve been with me from the beginning…”

  “Only because I know genius when I see it on stage, Mack, and you’ve got it. Make room on the mantle.”