“I’m at the country club with Cynthia’s father and two of her uncles. We’re having some male bonding thing. After I get my ass dragged around for another ten holes, they tell me we’re going to have a steam.” He hissed into the phone. “Doesn’t that mean we’re all going to sit around naked?”
Em chewed on her thumbnail. “I have no idea.” Jeremy wasn’t going to be able to talk her down off her ledge. He was up to his butt in in-laws.
“Hey, gotta go. I have to find my ball. And no smart mouth from you.” He spoke to someone with him. “No, mine ended up in the rough.” He whispered into the phone. “I’ll call you back later, okay? You all right?”
Emily closed her eyes and fought to keep from bursting into tears. “Yeah, everything’s just ducky. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow at the rehearsal.”
The Senior Center shuttle bus parked in front of Trixie’s Pixies made Emily groan. It was the first Thursday of the month when the residents of the Happy Trails Home were there to get their hair done. Trixie offered a group discount and, as a result, the place was always packed.
The scent of permanent solution was thick in the air as she pushed through the doors. Every dryer was in use, and all the chairs were full. The waiting area overflowed with walkers and wheelchairs.
Suzanne was in the middle of giving Mrs. Cleaver a blue rinse while Angel teased the top of Ms. Folsom’s bob.
“Mr. Dawson!” Bridget’s voice rose. “Hands over the cape, you naughty boy!” As Em passed, Bridget hissed at him, “And if you grab my ass once more, I’ll shave half your damn head, you little pervert! Now, behave yourself!”
Trixie was in her corner. The elderly gentleman in her chair looked like he might have expired somewhere between shampoo and the chair. His eyes were closed, but Trixie was still talking to him as she cut his snow white hair. As Emily moved closer, she realized Trixie had headphones on.
“Mi scusi signore, potreste dirmi dove trovare il bagno più vicino?” She tipped her head, nodded. “Il mio portafoglio è stato rubato! Dove posso trovare un agente di polizia?”
Emily waited until Trixie’s scissors paused to tap her on the shoulder. “Ma, what the hell are you doing?”
“Oh, hey, sweetie.” She pulled off the headphones. “I didn’t expect to see you. Did you change your mind about the spray tan?”
“No, Ma, I wanted to talk…never mind. This place is crazy.”
Trixie shrugged. “First Thursday.”
“I realized when I saw the bus. What are you listening to?”
“Language tapes. I found some at the library. I’m learning Italian. Listen to this.” She stopped cutting and pointed with her scissors. “Il mio portafoglio è stato rubato! Dove posso trovare un agente di polizia? That means, ‘My wallet has been stolen. Where can I find a police officer?’”
“What kind of tapes did you get?” The man in Trixie’s chair hadn’t moved. “And…is your client dead?”
Trixie laughed. “Of course not.” As soon as she said it, she got an odd expression on her face and rushed to put her hand mirror under the man’s nose. The glass steamed and she gave a small smile. “He’s just asleep. I’m multitasking.” She pointed to her headphones. “Lesson three, common Italian phrases while traveling. I can already say please and thank you, hello and good-bye any time of the day, tell you my name, and count to one hundred, and I know all my colors. I was going to surprise you.”
“You never cease to surprise me.” The permanent solution was starting to make her nauseous. “I’m sorry I forgot what day it was. I’ll get out of your way.”
“You could come back later. The Happy Trails bus leaves at four and the bridesmaids don’t start arriving until six thirty. We could have dinner together. We’re ordering Chinese.”
“I’ve got to work.”
Trixie rubbed Em’s arm. “Try to make it an early night. You’re looking a little worn around the edges, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Ma. Just what I needed to hear.”
The warmth of the afternoon brought some blessed fresh air as she left the salon. Emily took a minute to unzip all the windows in the Jeep. Why had she even stopped here? Because she need to talk to someone and Jeremy was off chasing his balls and, well, sometimes you just wanted to talk to your mother. Emily rubbed her forehead. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. What would she have said to her? “Oh, by the way, Ma, I’m having a torrid affair with Maximo Vega, and I’m afraid I’m ruining his life as well as my career. But I’ve fallen in love with him. Could you pass the moo shoo pork?”
It wasn’t as if she could run to Max and tattle like a five-year-old and demand he proclaim his fidelity. Beverly Lavender was a certified bitch, but she was only looking out for his best interest. Maybe she had a point. The last thing Emily wanted was to stand in Maximo’s way.
Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?
A huge black pickup with dark tinted windows and off-road tires tore into the parking lot. Joe Turner, Trixie’s creepy client, climbed out of the cab and strutted into the salon like he owned the place. Did his mustache need a touch-up so soon? Maybe he was here to get his back waxed. Em shuddered.
As if on cue, her cell phone started to play the Looney Tune theme. It was the ring tone she’d picked for Cynthia. Realization dawned on her as she read the time on the phone. Dammit! She was late for her fitting!
Chapter Nineteen
Max swung into Dante’s office to check on a piece of marble he’d ordered from the quarry. He wanted to carve the second piece he’d done of Emily in a soft pink marble.
The last few days and nights with her had been unbelievable. Never had a woman inspired him as much or satisfied him so completely. Each new facet of her only made him want to know more about her. He was a man obsessed.
She surprised him at every turn. One minute she was the frenzied sprite racing past at ninety miles an hour, the next she was the most passionate, generous lover he’d ever had. Shy and gentle one moment, bold and uninhibited the next. She also shared his enthusiasm for the work. He admired her dedication and fierce talent.
And she was funny! When was the last time a woman made him laugh? God help him, he was falling for her. Hard.
Dante looked up from the note he was scribbling when Max entered. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re walking around with a freaking smile on your face.”
Was he smiling? Son of a bitch, he was. That thought made him smile even more. “There’s something wrong with that?”
“If you’re Maximo Vega there is.”
Max didn’t respond. He shook his head and pulled a clipboard containing shipping notices off the wall.
“I still think you’re crazy to get involved with that one.”
“I would explain it to you if it was any of your business, but it’s not.”
“Fine. I will admit she’s showing some fine talent around the studio, but what’s between you and her—” He held up his hands in surrender. “The less I know about you and Baskins, the better I like it.”
Max flipped through the thin receipts. “Her name is Emily.”
“Well here’s something to wipe the smile off your face.” He handed Max the note he’d been writing. “Your presence is requested—make that urgently required,” Dante pointed to his note where the words were underlined, “at the Huffington Museum Saturday night, seven thirty. There’s an opening of a new sculptural exhibit the Lavender Leech insists will be a profitable appearance for you. You get to wear your fancy-assed tux again.”
“You mean the tux I used as a cleanup rag?” Max crushed the slip of paper and hit Dante’s wire trash basket dead center.
Dante followed the path of his toss. “You enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?”
“She’s welcome to void my contract.” Max found the notice he was searching for, noted the date, and replaced the board on its hook.
“Just don’t s
crew up the Bruce Gallery deal before then.”
“If Daniel Bruce is as hot for my work as she says, it won’t matter. Trust me.”
Dante scowled beneath his eyebrows. “Do I have a choice?”
“You’ve always had a choice.”
Dante leaned back and let out a sigh. “I know. I guess I’m as crazy as you. I’ll stick around just to watch you try and juggle two of the most exasperating females on the planet and not lose your head in the process.”
Max pointed a finger at Dante. “Not losing my head may no longer be an option.”
Dante sat up straight. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for Bask—um, Emily?”
“What if I was?”
“How long do you plan on lying to her? God knows, I’m not her number one fan, but she deserves the truth eventually.”
Max ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Dante was right. “I’ll tell her. Soon. I’ve tried. There just hasn’t been the right moment, but she’s coming over later. I’m making dinner and—”
“You’re cooking?” Dante’s eyebrows tried to mate with his hairline. “Wow, you have got it bad.”
“As I was saying, I’ll make her a nice Italian dinner, light some candles, pour the wine, and when the time is right…”
“Be careful she doesn’t snap off one of your attachments.”
Four hours later, the table was set. Everything was ready. Max had forgotten how much he liked to cook. His kitchen smelled like Grandma Vega’s. She’d be proud he didn’t burn the chicken involtine. He pulled the cork from a nice bottle of Sangiovese and let it breathe.
Emily arrived a few minutes later. “Sorry I’m late.”
He reached out to her, wanting to pull her in for a kiss, but she skirted his reach. He frowned. Something was wrong. “You’re right on time.”
She put her hands on her hips and studied the floor. “I forgot there were elderly people and I was late for my dress fitting. The woman took forever. I don’t know how she’s going to finish. The wedding is the day after tomorrow. Right now, it looks like I’m playing dress up. She tells me she can work miracles.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but she was upset. Max moved in front of her and ran his hands down her arms to sooth her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes until he tipped her chin. “What’s wrong?”
She stepped away from his touch. “Nothing.”
A thread of panic wound through him. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Emily chewed at her lip. “I’ve just had a long day. Setting my final exhibit and the wedding is the day after tomorrow.” She took a breath, gave him a weak smile, and peeked toward the kitchen. “What smells so delicious?”
“No changing the subject. Tell me about your long day.”
She turned and noticed the table. “You made me dinner?”
Max slipped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn’t know what was wrong. Emily was a terrible liar. Perhaps he could get her to open up later, but his sudden need to hold her was overpowering. It might be a night for truths, but not now. Not yet. Max’s only desire at that moment was to comfort her and make her happy. He kissed the side of her neck. Her faint floral scent tickled his nose. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“You made me dinner.”
He ran the tip of his nose along the shell of her ear and whispered, “Yes.”
Her head fell back against his shoulder and tipped, giving him access to her tender throat.
He held her tight against him and kissed his way down to her shoulder. “Do you like Italian?”
She gasped as he nibbled at her neck. “I love Italian.”
His tongue traced her ear. “The food or the man?”
She gave a little whimper and moved against him. “Do I have to choose?”
“No.” He laid a line of kisses along her jaw. “Tonight, you can have both if you wish.”
Emily turned in his arms and wound hers around his neck. She sighed against him mouth, “Oh, I wish.” Then she kissed him. “I wish.”
Tugging on the belt loops of her jeans, he pulled her against his erection as he welcomed her tongue into his mouth. One hand fingered through her hair, holding the back of her head, as their kisses deepened. Backing up, he half-carried her to the couch until he sat with her straddling his lap. He growled against her mouth. “I want you. That is my wish.”
She stroked his face between small kisses. “Is anything in danger of catching fire?”
“Not in the kitchen.”
She smiled against his mouth and straightened. Crossing her arms, she grasped the hem of her top and lifted it off in one smooth motion. His cock pulsed in the tight confines of his pants. He loved that she wore no bra. He loved how her peach tipped nipples tightened with a single brush of his lips. He loved even more the way she held his head when he sucked them into his mouth.
She rocked her hips over his swollen cock until he wanted to rip the jeans from her body, but she beat him to it. Standing, she made a show out of slipping them off. Max tore the neck of his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. By the time she shimmied out of the whisper of white laced thong, he had the zipper of his jeans down. Before he could stand and finish stripping, she was between his legs, tugging on the waistband of his pants. Lifting his butt, he helped her slip them off his thighs and down. He fumbled to kick his feet free. He felt like an impatient teenager having sex for the first time in the back of his father’s Buick.
He was breathing hard and wanted her back in his lap, but Emily surprised him by kneeling between his thighs and pushing his knees wider. Oh sweet God! “Em—”
Circling the shaft with her hand, she slipped the warmth of her mouth over the end of his cock. His head hit the back of the couch as a deep moan rumbled out of his chest. Holy shit! Quick licks of her tongue over the sensitive tip had him panting, clutching at her shoulder, pushing his fingers into the softness of her hair, but before he lost control, she rose and straddled him again.
Her breathing matched his. She wasted no time impaling herself upon him.
“Ah!” Max surged upward surrounded by the slickness of her sex.
Riding him hard, she leaned over and kissed his panting mouth as he held tight to her waist and moved with her. He tasted his muskiness on her tongue. She was hot and tight, and he was racing toward an earth-shattering climax when he realized in their rush he hadn’t put on a condom.
“Em…wait… I don’t have a condom.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “I’m…sorry. I got carried away…It’s safe, though. I…won’t get pregnant.”
“No?”
“I’m on the pill. But…we can…stop, if you want.” Her fingers were digging in to his shoulders. Her body shuddered around him as she tried to cool her fever. She moved to get off him.
“No!” He wouldn’t let her go. “Don’t stop now.” He pushed upward.
“Oh, thank God!” She rocked over him, faster now. Making tiny circles with her hips she released little gasps of pleasure.
Her walls quivering around him, bathing him with her juices was more than he could bear. His fingers bit into the tight round flesh of her ass and he thrust deep. Hot semen shot from his bursting cock. “Ahhh,” he groaned low and guttural as he pumped into her.
Emily continued to ride him. Sweat glistened on her body. He licked it from her skin as he continued to stroke her breasts. His cum ran from her, soaking his lap, as he teased the sensitive flesh where they were joined. Watching her respond to him, losing herself in her passion, he wanted to give her the same pleasure she’d given him. His strokes got bolder. He wanted to kiss every inch of her. Taste her on his tongue. Feel her body climax around him.
Swirling his fingers first one way and then the other, he pressed harder against her sensitive flesh.
“Max!” The rocking of her hips quickened. Her knees tightened along his hips. Her back arched.
Sucking a taut nipple into his mouth, he nipped at it with his teeth. She tasted so s
weet. His tongue teased while he increased the pressure on the play of his fingers.
Emily’s body jerked as the first wave of her orgasm crested over her. The walls of her vagina squeezed and contracted around him. He held tight to her, delighting in the sounds of her pleasure as the tremors peaked within her body and settled into a long, satisfied tremble.
“Oh, Max…” She gazed at him. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Her hair was a tousled mess and damp at her temples. Her lips parted. She struggled to catch her breath. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The immediate rush of love he felt for her in that moment took his breath away.
She wiped at the sweat on his face and leaned in to kiss him. “That was…” She kissed him again. “…the most amazing…” A serious expression crossed her face, “I’m sorry about the condom. I swear, I’m fine. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“It was my fault. I started this.”
“But I was the one to take it from zero to sixty in less than a heartbeat.”
He brushed at her damp hair “You weren’t alone.”
“I know, but…” she chewed the edge of her lip.
Emily still straddled him, still held him within her.
He kissed the lip she chewed. “Your passion is nothing to apologize for. Just for the record, you don’t need to worry, either.”
She nodded. Something passed over her eyes, but she closed them and kissed him before he could figure out what. Em laid her head on his shoulder, and he pulled her tight to his chest, fitting them together like erotic puzzle pieces. Her gentle heat surrounded him. She was perfection in his arms.
She sighed and brushed his skin with her lips. “I could stay like this forever.”
“Good. I don’t want to let you go.”
Emily lifted her head and sniffed, “If only your cooking didn’t smell so yummy.”
He smiled into her hair. “We have worked up an appetite.”
“I think we worked up a fine appetite. I’m starving.” She kissed his shoulder. “Could I shower before dinner?”
“Of course. I’ll finish things in the kitchen.” Neither of them moved, as if neither wanted to break the spell.
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