by Peggy Hunter
All right.
"Max,” she began, “there's no need to follow through on this whole mistress thing. You can just drop me off a few blocks from here, preferably at a bus stop—"
"Drop you off?” Max's deep brown eyes were brilliant as he gazed at her.
"Well, yeah,” she said hesitantly. “I mean, come on, this was fun while it lasted but..."
The window in front of them lowered. “Where to, Mr. Barton?"
"Ms. Masters’ condo, Bruce."
"What?” Lacey leaned forward as the window rolled back up. “Hey, Bruce, the nearest bus stop is good.” She flopped back against the leather seat, knowing Bruce hadn't heard her.
"I'd have thought you'd be anxious to see your luxury condo,” Max said easily. “After all, it's part of the prize."
"A prize I didn't want,” Lacey replied. “You knew all along I didn't want any of this."
Max cocked his head slightly as a frown marred his handsome face. “Really? I thought it was all part of the game."
Lacey huffed as she folded her arms over her chest and looked straight ahead of her. “Trust me, it was no game."
"No,” he said smoothly. “It wasn't a game. In fact, I knew you were the one from the start. The show was...” he hesitated before continuing, “a formality of sorts. We both knew how it would end."
Lacey wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Is this guy for real? “Excuse me?” she said through clenched teeth. “Just how dense are you? I did everything I could to discourage you."
"Yeah, the viewers loved it.” Max smiled. “But I knew you were playing up to me. The other girls were stumbling over themselves to impress me. You went to great lengths to push me away. You knew full well it'd lure me."
Lacey threw up her hands. “You just don't get it!” she cried. “I wasn't trying to lure you. I did everything I could to turn you off."
Max grinned ... a lazy, sexy, all-too-inviting grin. Lacey's stomach flip-flopped; her fingers itched to touch his handsome face. Her core moistened in anticipation. Lacey shook it off. She wasn't going to be drawn in again. No matter how exciting Max was, she could not, would not, let him infiltrate her life.
"Well, this is awkward,” Max said smoothly. “You thought you were driving me away and all I could think about was sinking my cock into you."
Lacey's mouth went dry as her body went rigid. She made a valiant attempt to banish all thoughts of Maxwell Barton sinewy body pressed against hers as his thick, hot penis penetrated her core.
No one would blame her for not being able to do it. After all, Max was one sexy guy, known as Toronto's sexiest millionaire. What red-blooded woman didn't imagine having sex with the guy? The fact she hadn't had sex for a few months didn't help either.
Lacey squeezed her eyes closed in an effort to force the erotic thoughts from her mind. Fool! You damn stupid fool! How could she so easily forget the last time she slept with a millionaire? How could she forget that she still had gaping wounds or how she swore she'd never go there again?
Lacey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, maybe you should have done your research,” she said stiffly. “If you had, you'd know I was a reluctant contestant."
"What makes you think I didn't do my research?” Max asked. “I did. In fact, I had my people check you out thoroughly."
Lacey's eyes flew to him. “What?"
Max grinned, a sultry, sexy grin that lit his rich brown eyes. “I'm a rich man, Lacey,” he said. “I had to be sure you weren't after my money."
"If you were afraid to be taken, why the heck would you appear on a show like Who Wants to Be the Millionaire's Mistress? You had to know all the contestants were after your money."
"I had my reasons,” Max said vaguely. “And yeah, each and every contestant thought they'd win a piece of me.” He hesitated before he added, “Except you. You didn't have an agenda."
Lacey snorted softly. “You clearly didn't do your research."
Max chuckled. “Are you referring to the fact you're homeless?"
Lacey gasped but before she could reply, Max went on.
"Having a luxury condo to use for a year should mean a lot to you since you have nowhere to live."
Lacey fixed her eyes ahead of her. She had no intention of admitting it was a definite bonus.
"Or are you referring to the affair you had with Zachary Billings and how he fired you when you demanded he leave his wife?"
Lacey stomach clenched as cold fingers circled her heart. When she turned to face him, Max quickly went on. “Was that about money? I don't think it was."
Lacey's body went stone cold. He knows? She gasped and sputtered. “You don't know—"
"Nor do I care,” Max cut in. “Billings’ loss is my gain."
"But—"
Max's face clouded ominously as he cut her off again. “I already said I don't care."
Lacey bristled. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? How dare he shove what she had with Zachary Billings aside as if it hadn't mattered?
She'd loved Zachary with all her heart ... with every ounce of her being. If Max thought he'd had a thorough investigation done, he was sorely mistaken.
"There's a lot more to it than you know,” Lacey said. “In fact—"
"We're here,” Max said, cutting her off yet again.
Lacey bit back the scream curling in her throat. Her heart pounded as her blood heated. “Stop cutting me off!” she cried.
Max raised a lazy eyebrow. “That temper wasn't just for the good of the show, was it?"
Lacey's mind reeled. How was she supposed to reply to that? Her temper was what got her into the situation she was in to begin with. Her temper was why she not only lost the love of her life but her job and subsequently, her apartment, her car, her dog and just about everything else she owned.
But she wasn't about to admit all that to Maxwell Barton. Best to keep her big mouth shut for a change.
When she didn't reply, a slow smile crept across his lips, making her shiver again. “We can talk about the issues with your former employer some other time. I want to show you the condo. I think you'll be impressed."
When the window in front of them rolled down, Max looked at the chauffeur. “What is it, Bruce?"
"The paparazzi, Mr. Barton. They're as thick here as they were at the studio."
"Thanks for the warning,” Max said before the window rolled back up. He turned to Lacey and took a deep breath. “Right. Just so you know, we're not saying a word to the reporters. Just follow my lead."
Before Lacy could reply, Bruce opened the back door. Max grabbed her hand and led her out of the limo. He held her close as flashbulbs blinded her. She kept her head bowed and blindly walked with him, feeling safe in his warm embrace.
"Ms. Masters, how does it feel to be Maxwell Barton's latest kept woman?"
"Are you going to have sex tonight?"
"Is Maxwell your dream man?"
Bruce led the way to the waiting elevator in the lobby of Hotel Gregoire. She had no idea where she was being led but instinct told her to trust Max. She felt tremendous relief when they stepped inside the elevator.
As the doors slid closed, a reporter asked, “Ms. Masters, how do you think Zachary Billings will feel knowing you're having sex with his nemesis?"
Nemesis? What the hell?
Lacey's blood chilled as her hands shot out to keep the elevator door from closing. Firm hands closed over her shoulders and pulled her back.
"Now isn't the time, Lacey,” Max said softly into her ear. He held her against him as the doors slid closed.
* * * *
Max snickered as he slid the keycard into the condo lock and pushed the door open. If Lacey thought she could run away, she was sadly mistaken. She was in this sham as deep as he was and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her escape now.
Besides, since he was forced into the situation, there was no reason not to enjoy it. Ms. Masters was a sweet little creature and it seemed fitting to have her as h
is personal prize after enduring weeks on the fucking game show.
Max grinned at Lacey's soft gasp when he flicked the lights on in the condo. Of course she'd be suitably impressed; it was the most luxurious condo available in Toronto and, since she was homeless, he suspected anything short of a box in an alley would impress her.
The game show producers offered a condo on the upper east side of the city. Max took one look and nixed it. It wasn't suitable for someone as beautiful as Lacey Masters. He found his own hideaway for the woman he intended to own, body and soul. Only the best for...
Max chuckled again. The very idea made him feel like a Neanderthal and yet, he'd won ownership of Lacey fair and square.
...his mistress.
He watched as Lacey walked around the well appointed living room. Delicate fingers absently grazed the supple brown suede sofa as she gazed at the gigantic entertainment center encased in the handmade oak armoire. She didn't stop to examine the assorted electronics. Instead, she turned her attention to the well equipped bar and the kitchen tucked behind it.
"This is a lot more than I'm used to,” she said nervously.
Max stood back, enjoying the fact she was out of her element. After she peered into the kitchen, she made her way to a closed door. She looked at him questioningly.
"Go ahead."
Lacey pushed the door open and gasped again when she took in the fully appointed bathroom. She looked back at him. “A whirlpool tub? Looks big enough to hold five people."
"We just need room for two,” he quipped.
Lacey's blue eyes darkened. “Yes, well...” Her voice trailed off.
Max moved to the sofa and lazily threw himself onto it. All right, he'd played along long enough. He nodded to the door beside the bathroom. “That's the bedroom,” he said. “Go in and freshen up. There's a robe hanging on the door. Put it on when you're ready and come back."
Lacey frowned. “Excuse me?"
Max rolled his eyes. He'd also had enough of her innocent stares. “You know damn well what I mean. Take your clothes off and put the robe on."
Lacey's eyes rounded, her hand flew to her chest. “You expect me to—"
"Of course,” Max replied impatiently. “What did you think would happen?"
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Chapter 3
Max winced as the woman kneeled between his legs and wrapped her long fingers around his engorged cock. He drew a deep breath when he felt her tongue touch the tip before her mouth closed over it. He sank his fingers into her hair as he peered down at her.
"Harder,” he said through clenched teeth. “Suck me harder."
She obliged, pumping her hand over his long shaft as her lips tightened over him.
Max threw his head back and squeezed his eyes closed. “Yeah, babe,” he said. “That's it."
He loved the soft slurping sounds she made as she continued to suck him. Her lips smacked each time she pulled them off his swollen cock. She let out a long breath just before she opened her mouth to take him in again.
When Max couldn't take it anymore, his fingers wrapped around her arms and pulled her up. She gazed at him, her eyes glazed with desire. She smiled as she braced her knees on either side of him on the sofa and slowly, methodically lowered herself over him. She hesitated at the cusp ... just when his cock would have opened her.
Max groaned impatiently. After the events of the day, he wasn't in the mood to be teased. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down over him with force.
She cried out when he rammed into her. His cock slid into her soft sheath, filling her completely, taking everything she had and demanding more.
Max was relentless. He needed all of her and would not allow anything less. She howled when he pushed her to the brink. When she would have pulled away, he gripped her hips and pulled her down over him harder. She wouldn't escape. Not today.
The orgasm, when it came, ripped through her with tremendous force. He held her against him until she collapsed over him. Only then did he allow the torrent of desire he'd been holding onto for many weeks to finally flow.
With that, his body collapsed into the sweet realm of satisfaction. He'd sleep tonight for the first time in weeks ... for the first time since he'd laid eyes on Lacey Masters.
His eyelids felt heavy as relief coursed through his body. She moved off his lap and rested on the sofa beside him.
"I'm hungry,” she said. “Wanna order a pizza?"
Max's eyes opened reluctantly. Fuck. “Uhm,” he hesitated, searching for a way to tell her gently. “Look, Mary—"
"I know,” she interjected. “You want me to leave."
Max blinked. “I'm sorry..."
"Don't be,” she said as she picked up the clothes she'd discarded on the living room floor. “It's always been about the sex and that's the way I like it."
Mary was the one woman he knew wasn't looking for a relationship or money. The daughter of a shipping magnet, she'd been burned a few times too. Sex with Mary was always explosive but she didn't want anything more than he did.
"Well, you can stay the night if you want to,” Max said. He might want her again after he'd had a nap.
Mary shook her head. “I don't think so,” she said. “Things are different now."
Max frowned. “How?"
She chuckled. “I watch TV, Max. I know you're nuts about her."
"And yet I'm here with you,” Max pointed out.
Mary nodded lightly. “Yeah. She must have tossed you out. When you fucked me, you were thinking of her."
Had he been that transparent? It wasn't his style to let a woman know he was thinking of someone else when he was screwing them. “I'm sorry."
Mary smiled as she stepped into her bright red panties and pulled them up. “No prob. What we had was fun, but it's over. I'm okay with it.” She smiled as she stepped into her skirt and pulled it up to her waist. “Call a taxi for me, will ya?"
When Max picked up the phone, Mary pulled her bra and blouse on. She walked out the door without a backward glance. She left Max sitting on the couch, his cock hanging between his legs, his mind on Lacey.
Who knew Lacey would take issue with his insistence that she get naked? After all, hadn't he earned the right to have her in his bed after choosing her for his mistress?
He knew she had a fiery temper but wasn't prepared for the explosion she'd unleashed the moment he'd made his demand. If he intended to get her into his bed, it seemed he'd have to take a different approach.
And so, finding himself alone after walking out ... or rather, running out ... of Lacey's condo, he went to the pub closest to his home. Mary was there and one thing quickly led to another. He regretted that he hadn't held out long enough to devour Lacey but, considering how badly he'd failed tonight, it could be some time before he'd manage to talk her into his bed. And Max had needs.
Mary certainly helped scratch the itch that had dogged him for weeks. But it wouldn't be long before his hunger grew again. Just the thought of Lacey Masters made his cock tighten with need.
He'd have her. One way or another, she would live up to her end of being his mistress.
* * * *
"You should see this place,” Lacey said into the portable phone as she languished on the king-size bed. “It's the penthouse suite on top of Hotel Gregoire. I'm on the twenty-seventh floor."
"I'm still trying to figure out why you tossed Maxwell Barton out,” Rachael Meadows replied.
"He was too sure of himself,” Lacey replied, knowing her best friend would understand. “I'm sick of pushy millionaires thinking they own me."
"Well, come on,” Rachael replied. “This one's a far cry from the fuck up you had with Zack. At least he's not married."
Zack? It was oddly disturbing that her best friend, and former co-worker, referred to him as Zack. Only those close to him were allowed to call him that.
Lacey's heart ached remembering her last day at Billings Enterprises. After a year-long affair, she'd grown weary
of Zack's unkept promises and demanded he make a choice once and for all. Either his wife or her.
Zack assured her that she was his chosen one. But then, out of the blue, Bonnie Billings, his wife of twenty-six years, walked into the office and gave Lacey a reality check.
"You aren't the first and you won't be the last,” the fifty-year-old woman told her. “Don't be foolish enough to think you'll ever change him. He'll never leave me."
Lacey then discovered she was one of a long line of women Zack had had an affair with. All of whom ended up the same as Lacey ... unemployed and, as far as the corporate world was concerned, damaged goods. Short of leaving her beloved city, Lacey knew finding another job in Toronto would be no easy task.
So when her former boss insisted that only those close to him call him Zack, why had Rachel done so just now? Was there something her best friend was keeping from her?
No, of course not. Lacey gave herself a mental shake. Rachael would never do such a thing. The fact she'd referred to him by his shortened name had to be a mistake.
"Yes,” Lacey replied sadly. “If only I knew then what I know now."
"All's not lost,” Rachael said cheerfully. “I know how you felt about staying with me after you couldn't afford your apartment. Even when Maxwell dumps you, you'll still have the use of the penthouse suite for a year and the money you won. I heard Barton actually bought the place just for you. Apparently he didn't like the condo the producers of the show offered."
Even when Maxwell dumps you.
Lacey winced. When, not if. Even Rachael knew.
"Yes,” Lacey said, “it is good to know I won't have to mooch off anyone before I get back on my feet."
"You weren't mooching. I loved having you here."
A soft tap sounded on the door. “I have to go, Rach,” she said. “Someone's at the door. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"You better,” her friend said.
Lacey hung up and padded through the massive apartment. She pressed her hand against the door. “Who is it?"
"Room service."
Lacey frowned. “I didn't order room service."
"Breakfast, ma'am, compliments of the hotel."
As if on cue, Lacey's stomach growled. She realized she hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before.