“I happen to enjoy cooking,” he informed her, sipping his wine as he watched her.
Not a quality she would’ve expected from a man like Max, but something that certainly intrigued her.
“I try to steer clear of the kitchen,” she told him truthfully. “Cooking is not my strong suit.”
Max set his glass on the table and picked up his fork and knife. “What is your strong suit?”
Courtney felt more heat infuse her face. The question hadn’t been at all sexual, but her thoughts instantly retreated to the last time she’d seen him, to the way she’d nearly come apart in his arms.
“I’m fairly good with a gun,” she finally told him, cutting her steak before taking a bite.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” he said gruffly.
After chewing, she peered up, realizing Max was still watching her.
“How is it?”
Courtney took a sip of wine.
“Likely the best I’ve ever had,” she found herself saying.
Max’s lips curved upward. This time there was definitely something inherently sexual in his wicked gaze.
And the sad part … something inherently sexual inside her responded in kind.
□»«□»«□»«□
Max hadn’t expected Courtney to come tonight. To his house, that was.
When he’d finally given in to the urge to contact her, he’d fully anticipated a rebuttal.
Then again, he knew what she was after, so offering the invitation had been a gamble of sorts. To see her or not to see her? It had been a question that had plagued him for three weeks, to the point he couldn’t take it any longer. His thoughts hadn’t veered far from her since the moment he’d met her, and now that she was there with him, he had to wonder why he’d taken so long.
The instant she’d stepped into his kitchen, wearing that sexy bronze dress and the fuck-me heels, her long, dark hair hanging over her shoulders and her bright gray eyes flashing with heat, he’d been flooded with memories of her kiss, her touch, and the sweet moans he’d wrought from her when they’d consumed one another in the hallway. He’d replayed that scene over and over again in his head for weeks, trying to determine whether or not it’d been real, wondering if her touch, her taste, could’ve really been as magnificent as he remembered.
He’d only been left wondering for a second once he laid eyes on her again. She was everything he remembered and then some.
There was certainly curiosity in her nearly colorless eyes, but there was more than that. There was heat and intrigue and … lust. The woman might’ve been there on a job, but she was just as interested in the chemical reaction between them as he was.
Somehow he managed to eat his meal, watching her while he did, anticipating the questions he sensed she wanted to ask.
“From what I’ve read about you,” Courtney prompted as she wiped her mouth with a linen napkin, “it sounds like you’re rather close to your family.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” he countered, smiling back at her.
“So that’s how you want to play?” she asked.
Max placed his silverware on his plate and retrieved his wineglass. “I prefer the direct approach.”
“I can see that,” she mumbled softly. “So are you? Close with your family?”
“What do you consider close?”
Courtney glared back at him, which only amused him.
“We’re close,” he said simply. “And you? Are you close to yours?”
“Very,” she answered readily.
“You have more of an extended family, correct?”
“I see you’ve done some checking up on me, have you?”
“Of course.” He didn’t see any reason to lie to her.
“Yes, it’s rather extended. But I’m sure you’re familiar with that. If I’m not mistaken, there’s no blood relation between you and some of those you’re closest to.”
Max liked her. He liked how straightforward she was, how she spoke her mind. It was refreshing, even though he knew she had an ulterior motive.
The two of them continued to eat. Thankfully the questions lulled for a little while; however, the silence that ensued wasn’t awkward. Max found it rather comfortable to sit with her, neither of them having to speak just for the sake of filling the silence.
Once they were finished, he cleared away their dinner dishes and returned to the table with more wine, tossing out an off-the-cuff question as he did. “Where’d you go to college?”
Casually sitting in his chair, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee and regarded her while he waited for a response. She appeared unfazed by his curiosity.
“Texas State. Two years and then I’d had enough. I came home, went to work for my father.”
“So, you had an interest in security?”
“Something like that,” she said with a cheeky grin.
Little did Courtney Kogan know, but Max had an entire dossier devoted to her. He knew everything there was to know about her, from the last guy she’d dated and how long that had lasted, her blood type, the results of her last physical. He likely knew more about her than she did about herself, right down to the minute she was born and the fact that her mother had had an emergency C-section, three weeks prior to her due date, and her father had been on an op at the time, not making it home until Courtney was almost a full day old.
In Max’s world, he knew better than to trust anyone. She might believe he was merely interested in her on a physical level—and that was true, he was—but Max was also attempting to keep her close. If she wanted information, he’d make sure she received it. But only the details he wanted her to have.
“What about you?” she inquired. “Where’d you go to college?”
“I didn’t,” he informed her.
“You just worked your way up in the organization?”
“Organization?” he asked, grinning. “What is it that you think I do?”
“Land development,” she replied without missing a beat. “And one of your brothers is in the waste management business.”
Well, she was right on those counts. That was the basis of his family’s business. At least from the outside looking in.
“Don’t forget the nightclubs,” he offered.
“Right. How could I have forgotten? Devil’s Playground, is it?”
“That’s one of them,” he told her. There were several others in the Dallas area, along with one in Vegas and another in New York, but he didn’t bother to share that information. If she was curious, she’d ask.
“So, like I said, you just worked your way up?”
Max smirked. He liked that she thought she had the upper hand. He knew what information she had on him; some of it had actually been strategically planted. “It’s not difficult to move up in a world you were born into,” he told her. “But I suspect you’re familiar with the concept.”
Courtney nodded, holding her wineglass close to her lips. “So you’re not just a businessman?” She took another sip of wine, and he watched her throat work as she swallowed. He wanted to put his lips on the slender column of her neck.
“I never said that,” he answered quickly.
“No, but you alluded to it.”
“I never allude to anything, Courtney.”
“No?”
“No,” he assured her. “Direct is definitely my preferred approach.”
Max noticed the challenge in her gaze, and it turned him on. The air crackled; electrical impulses made his heart rate speed up, his dick throb. His reaction to her wasn’t unheard of because, since the dawn of time, men had been attracted to beautiful women. But this… This was potent, powerful, impossible to ignore, and Max wasn’t interested in playing games. He wanted her, and he fully intended to show her what she was getting herself into by being with him, even if she thought she was the one interrogating him.
He stood and held out his hand for her to take. When she placed her delicate fingers in his palm, he helped her
to her feet. Taking the two wineglasses, he set them on the cabinet behind him, then turned to face her.
Her eyes widened as he closed the distance between them, backing her up until her ass bumped the table.
“As amused as I am by this conversation,” he told her with a slight grin, “I’m gonna kiss you now, Courtney.”
He paused briefly to see if she would refute him, but she didn’t. When her gaze dropped to his mouth and she nodded her head ever so subtly, Max’s dick twitched, thickened.
Cupping her face, he grazed her lips with his thumbs, forcing her mouth open as he leaned in. The way her breath hitched as his mouth hovered precariously close to hers only made his dick harder. She wanted him; there was no doubt about that. The powerful physical reaction they’d had to one another a few weeks ago hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it had intensified.
Unable to resist any longer, Max licked his way into her mouth, her tongue meeting his, tentative at first, but then the fire he remembered ignited, and Courtney was kissing him back with fervor. He took another step closer, pressing his rigid cock against her belly, wanting her to feel what she did to him.
“Touch me, Courtney,” he commanded gruffly, speaking the words against her sweet, luscious mouth.
He felt her shift, her hands hesitantly sliding up his chest. Her breathing was labored, her eyes locked with his as he allowed his body to acclimate to her touch. It was just as he remembered. Cataclysmic. Every one of his senses went on high alert, anticipation steadily growing until the ache was so fucking strong he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep from taking her right there on the goddamn table.
Sliding his hands down her body, he gripped her hips and lifted her, setting her on the surface and coming to stand between her thighs. Her legs widened, the short skirt of her dress riding higher on her tanned thighs. While her hands rested on his chest, he peered down, admiring the way her nipples puckered beneath the thin bronze silk that covered her. The dress was little more than a nightgown, and Max fucking loved it.
He could see the outline of her gun secured to her thigh beneath her dress, and he slowly slid it from the tiny lace holster, setting it on the table beside her before flattening his palms on her thighs, lifting his gaze to hers as he caressed her smooth skin.
“I’ve dreamed of touching you again,” he told her. “Hell, I’ve even fantasized about laying you out right here on this table and feasting on you while you beg me to make you come.”
Her breath hitched again.
“Is that what you want, Courtney?”
Her hooded gaze never separated from his as her lips parted ever so slightly. “Yes.”
“Tell me again,” he ordered.
Her throat worked as she swallowed, her hands easing down his torso, coming to a stop over his, which were still resting on her silky thighs. She moved his hands higher, forcing the silk of her dress up more. “Yes,” she whispered. “This is what I want.”
That time her words held more conviction, as did the way she aggressively forced his hands between her legs.
Max slid one finger beneath the thin barrier of her panties as he kissed her again. She hissed in a breath when he dipped between her slick folds, stimulating her clit. She was so damn hot, and her soft, sexy moans encouraged him.
The kiss went nuclear, her legs spreading, her ankles pressing against the backs of his thighs while her fingers found the back of his head, lacing in his hair as she pulled him closer. Lips and tongues dueled as he used his free hand to slide the thin straps of her dress off her smooth shoulders. She shrugged out of them, baring her perky tits as he cupped one in his big hand, fondling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, watching it harden more. Max hovered over her, forcing her to her back on the table. He kissed his way down to her breast, licking and sucking her nipple while he fingered her, slipping inside her warm, wet heat, fucking her with one finger, then two.
“You’re wet for me,” he mumbled. “You like this.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t expect a response.
Her back bowed, and he devoured her tit, sucking hard as she cried out, her hips bucking upward, her cunt grinding against his hand. Unable to resist tasting more of her, he switched, laving her other nipple with his tongue before nipping it with his teeth and sucking it into his mouth.
“So fucking beautiful,” he groaned, releasing her nipple and trailing his mouth lower.
Max pushed her dress up, the silk ringing her middle and leaving most of her sinfully delicious body bared to his hungry gaze. Dropping into the chair, he pulled her panties to the side and buried his tongue in her pussy, licking her as she cried out, begging him not to stop, pleading for him to make her come.
She was so fucking hot, so damn responsive, Max wasn’t sure either of them would survive this, but he damn sure had no intention of stopping until she’d come in his mouth, until she’d given herself over to him completely.
He impaled her with two fingers, twisting his hand around, buried deep inside her as he sucked her clit between his lips. It only took him a second to locate the spot he was seeking, and as he rubbed, Courtney’s cries grew louder.
“Max!”
Doubling his efforts, he flicked her clit with his tongue, then began relentlessly fucking her with his fingers until her pussy clamped down on his hand.
“Oh, God! Max!”
Max didn’t intend to go any further tonight, satisfied with how she ignited, coming apart at the seams. For now, anyway. Considering he found so much pleasure in making her come with his tongue and his fingers, he forced himself to refrain from taking her right there on the table. As much as he wanted to plunge deep into her, fucking her until she didn’t know her own name, he knew he had to take things slow.
And slow in his world, as she had just found out, was definitely a relative term.
Chapter Six
Her mental state?
It’d be best not to assess it right now.
Present day
March 3rd
Courtney stormed into her house, flipping on lights as she went, deliberately making as much noise as possible. She couldn’t ignore the frustration that had built inside her after the events of the night.
Why the hell had she thought she could waltz right up to Max, confront him for the sake of an op, and not be affected by him? It wasn’t as though she’d ever been successful at it before. So why had she thought tonight would be any different?
She wasn’t sure she would ever have the answers to those questions, nor did she intend to ponder them, either. Trying to figure out this crazy reaction she had to that man was an incredible waste of time, and she’d done enough of that over the past two years.
It was just a damn good thing she wasn’t alone, or there was no telling how she would’ve opted to release that pent-up anxiety. She’d never been the type to hold back her emotions, and Max was her sore spot. Her Achilles’ heel. Always had been.
Courtney sighed, refusing to think about him anymore.
Kicking off her heels, sending them both flying into the wall beneath the breakfast bar, she pulled her gun from the lace holster on her thigh, checked it as she always did, and set it on the counter with her cell phone.
“Can I get you somethin’ to drink?” Courtney asked RT when he followed her inside, closing the door behind him.
“Sure.”
Courtney caught his incredibly cautious tone but chose to ignore it. During the drive back to the compound—the appropriate description for the large amount of gated land her family occupied with several houses spread throughout—neither of them had said anything. Not one single word. It’d been the most peace she’d had all night, despite all the thoughts of Max that continued to batter her brain.
Not that she could necessarily blame RT for walking on eggshells. She was on edge, and by choosing to keep her company, he was directly in her path of destruction. A place he probably didn’t want to be on a good day.
And today certainly wasn’t a good day.
Well, looked like the blessed silence was about to come to an end.
Pity.
“Of course,” she lied.
Courtney doubted she would ever be okay again, but as much as she liked the guy, RT wasn’t the one she would choose to share her innermost secrets with. Seemed she didn’t have anyone to do that with these days. It wasn’t easy to tell the people she was closest to that she’d fallen in love with the devil and had spent the last year of her life trying to find her soul, trying to forget the dark world she’d succumbed to. They wouldn’t understand. She didn’t even understand it herself.
“Talk to me,” he demanded, the squeal of wood against wood sounding from behind her as he pulled a chair out from her kitchen table and proceeded to drop into it.
“Nothin’ to talk about.” She retrieved a bottle of vodka from her freezer, along with two tumblers, two shot glasses, and a can of 7-Up. Hip checking the refrigerator door closed, she carried her loot to the table and set it down in front of RT.
“What’s goin’ on between you and Max Adorite?”
And there it was. The question she’d been expecting all night.
Hell, she’d thought she would be peppered with questions from more than just him after the debacle at Max’s. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Courtney’s best friend was safe and sound, and likely in Trace’s bed about now, Courtney knew her brother would’ve been standing right alongside RT, interrogating her about Max until her ears bled.
“Nothin’.” And that really was the truth.
There hadn’t been anything between her and Max for nearly a year. Eleven months, one week and three days, to be exact. Not that she’d been counting, but during that time Courtney had managed to stay far, far away from him. There for a while, she’d actually thought she might be at a point where she could move on, but that hadn’t been the case. Sometimes she wondered whether she ever would.
“Try again,” RT stated, reaching for the bottle of vodka and the two shot glasses, ignoring the 7-Up entirely.
Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) Page 5