Loving the Bastard

by Marteeka Karland

  “So,” he said when they’d sat on the couch after finishing in the kitchen. “In this fictional world of yours where we’re getting to know each other, what do we do?” Max injected as much sarcasm as possible, needing to get a grip on the situation quickly..

  “We could watch TV,” she said with a shrug. “Any programs you favor?”

  He smirked. “I don’t watch TV. I get my news on my phone on the way to work and anything else is meaningless drivel. Try again.”

  Zeta pursed her lips but continued undaunted. “Movies, then.”

  “Strike two.”

  “Meaningless drivel,” she muttered.

  “Exactly.”

  “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “There has to be some kind of music you like. Maybe something to relax by.”

  Max started to shoot her down again, but something stopped him. Why not humor her? Few women fascinated him the way Zeta did. For that alone she deserved a little of his time.

  “I like the piano.” He gestured toward the corner. “The sound…soothes me.” The admission was harder than he’d thought. He didn’t like admitting to weakness, and telling her he liked piano music seemed to be divulging one.

  Lips parted on a breath, Zeta gave him a startled look. “What’s your favorite?”

  He shrugged. “I just like the sound of the instrument. I suppose it depends on my mood.”

  “I suppose it does,” she said. Her eyes drifted toward the piano. The glossy white instrument was spotlighted with soft lighting by design, but moonlight from the clear night sky filtered through the glass like a beacon. When she got up and moved in that graceful way she had to sit at the keyboard, Maximilian found himself holding his breath. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected in that moment, but the skill and comfort with which she played certainly wasn’t it.

  Like she might caress a lover, her fingers stroked the keys with a delicate touch. The light, airy “Clair de lune” sang out with a rich sound from the piano he’d added to the room as an afterthought. Had he been listening to a professional recording, Max doubted the music would have been more pleasing. For several moments, he just sat there, stunned at the treasure he had in his home.

  For a long while, he didn’t move, scarcely breathed for fear that, if he did, the spell she wove would be shattered. The complex and intricate, deft movements of her fingers astounded him. The quality of her playing was a surprise he had never seen coming. When he finally stood and moved toward her, he continued to watch in fascination as she lost herself in the music, her body swaying hypnotically as she played, her fingers, hands, and wrists moving in fluid motions that seemed to be a dance to the song she played.

  Unable to help himself, Maximilian closed his eyes and drifted on the tranquil lake she conjured. Moonlight reflected on nearly still waters, the merest ripple disturbing the smooth surface. He could almost see the wind dispel the moon’s image as the notes swelled and her fingers danced over the keys, the water rippling beneath her touch as much as the wind’s. The beauty she created astounded him, took him to a place of perfect peace and tranquility he’d never thought to see.

  The movement was only five minutes long, but Maximilian felt as if he’d run a marathon by the time her fingers parted from the ivory. And his cock was as hard as iron. Who’d have thought simply listening to a woman play the piano could be so arousing?

  As her hand lifted from the last chord, she looked up at him, a surprised look on her face when she met his gaze, as if she hadn’t heard him approach. Without letting her drop her hand, he took it in his own, tugging her to her feet. Her eyes wide with shock and lingering emotion from her passionate recitation, Zeta let her hands settled on his chest while his arms circled her like a steel band.

  With infinite care, giving her time to pull away, Max descended on her mouth slowly until his lips touched hers. He tasted passion on her breath, the silvery glow from the moon making the skin on her face gleam before his eyes drifted shut and Max lost himself in that kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  Zeta wasn’t exactly sure when she’d consented to Max’s hot, possessive kiss, but she found herself not only allowing it, but returning it as well. Parting her lips, she accepted the thrust of his tongue eagerly. Max’s answering grunt followed by a slight tightening of his arms around her made her sigh into his mouth. The man was wrong for her on so many levels it wasn’t even funny, but her body seemed to crave his. Even now, she felt her own wetness eagerly readying her for him.

  Which so wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

  But, damn, she wanted it to. She wanted Max to be the man she needed him to be. There were glimpses of a compassionate soul inside him from time to time, but he always closed himself off to what he probably saw as softness. A weakness. Still, it was enough to give Zeta a lingering hope he would prove to her he wasn’t the cold-hearted bastard he presented to the rest of the world.

  The feelings stirring inside her when he kissed her were even more pronounced than they had been in his office. Zeta found she wanted to let him take this farther, wanted to say to hell with all of it and give in to her baser nature. There seemed to be a wildness stirring within her she couldn’t fight. Wasn’t even sure she wanted to fight.

  Just before she got completely carried away, Maximilian ended the kiss, sliding a hand up to her cup face. His thumb feathered over her cheek, sending little shivers through her with the small contact. For several moments, she searched his eyes for what she needed. Lust shone there, unmistakable and with an almost violent intensity. His need was so primitive, so opposite to the music of a few moments earlier it shook her, and she started to pull away. But Maximilian tightened his hold around her, the hand cupping her head so gently now fisting in her hair with a little forbidden, delightful bite.

  Before she could do anything more than whimper in need, Max’s lips found hers again. This time, his tongue surged between her lips with a hard demanding thrust. It was a show of possession, of domination. One the woman in Zeta couldn’t deny.

  When he lifted her, Zeta needed no urging to wrap her legs around him as he walked them to the couch. There were a hundred reason why this was a bad idea. Important reasons why she needed to stop before she was too far gone to give a damn about the consequences. Unfortunately, none seemed forthcoming at the moment. The only thing that mattered was that impossibly hard ridge pressing between her legs as Max laid her down and covered her with his body.

  Instead of trying to rid her of her clothing, Max wrapped his arms around her so tightly Zeta thought he might squeeze the breath from her. It wasn’t uncomfortable though—more like he was afraid she’d get away from him. Still his lips were fused to hers in a soul-searing kiss. All the emotion, all the passion she’d poured into her music seemed to have flowed straight into Maximilian. Zeta tasted more than simple lust on his lips. It wasn’t love or anything remotely like it, but a need more elemental even than that. It was like instinct told Max he needed, and she could provide. As if Zeta hadn’t already known he needed something from her. If ever there was a man who needed her, Maximilian was him. The hard part was getting him to admit it.

  And with that thought, reality slowly seeped in around her, bringing her out of the haze of lust and pleasure Maximilian had woven so expertly around her. When she stiffened, he growled. At first, she thought he might refuse to let her up, or even to end the kiss. Then he gradually softened his mouth, simply brushed it over hers for several moments before raising his head.

  “You have to know this is inevitable. I will have you, Zeta. All for my own.”

  “Really?” Zeta hoped she managed to pull off a haughty look, but the breathless word she’d spoken probably ruined the effect. “I thought we could have discreet affairs.”

  It was Max’s turn to stiffen then. As if he’d only just realized the implications of what he’d said, he pushed himself off her, standing and taking a step backward. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth once like he might be tryi
ng to wipe her taste from his lips before stumbling into the end table. That pulled him out of the lust-laden atmosphere and crash-landed him back to reality if his expression was any indication. He looked furious, like it was all her fault. Then his face blanked, the businessman completely in control of his environment. One simply biding his time to move in for the kill.

  “Naturally,” he replied, though not as smoothly as Zeta suspected he wanted to. “But only after you’ve conceived my heir, and the paternity has been fully tested. After that, be my guest.”

  Max marched out of her suite, back stiff, head held high. Deep inside, Zeta knew this was a mistake. Not in the war she waged to crack Max’s icy exterior, but in the battle to keep her heart in check. She’d just seen a side of him she suspected no woman ever had. He’d looked at her with longing and unfettered lust in his gaze. Lust laced with a need so great it bordered on pain. He’d wanted her with every fiber of his being for about a minute. The only thing that had stopped him was her reaction. Otherwise, they’d be naked and fornicating in the living room.

  He’d held her so tightly! Wrapping his arms around her like he’d never let her go. Maybe that was normal for him, but didn’t most men use one hand to…grope? Not Maximilian. He’d wrapped her up in a cocoon of male muscle and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

  So what did she do now? More importantly, how did she proceed without losing herself in the process?

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hey, mister.” The kid, Trevor, tugged on Max’s sleeve to get his attention. Actually tugged on his sleeve! “You got a dollar?”

  “Isn’t this where we started the last time?” Max growled. Instead of being intimidated and backing off, the boy beamed at him, obviously pleased Max remembered him. Again, the kid held out a grubby little hand as if he fully expected Max to simply hand it over.

  “When was the last time you washed your hands, kid?”

  Trevor shrugged, unconcerned and still holding out his hand.

  With an exasperated growl, Maximilian stood, grabbing the boy by the shirt collar because he was seriously afraid of the germs and bacteria crawling all over him, and marched him to the bathroom.

  “First rule when going for a job interview? Be clean. That means face, hands, teeth, hair, body, and clothes. We can’t get you in the shower, so we’ll make do with what we’ve got here.” Max turned on the hot water, letting it heat while he got paper towels from the dispenser, then adjusted it to an acceptable temperature.

  Wetting the towel and applying a small amount of soap, Max instructed, “Wash your face.” With scowl, the kid gingerly circled his cheeks with the wet paper towel as if he were afraid of getting something icky on him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Max said in an exasperated tone as he took the towel from Trevor.

  Careful not to get soap in the kid’s eyes, Max washed his face thoroughly before helping him rinse. Then he made the kid scrub his hands, using the towel to dig under his nails to get the worst of the dirt and grime. There was no toothbrush to be had, so Max had him use his wet finger to run over his teeth front and back before washing his hands again.

  “Come on, Mister,” Trevor complained. “I’m only going to get dirty again. Besides, ain’t going to a job interview.”

  “No? You expect me to just give you money?”

  “Yeah. You did last time.”

  “I did not. You earned the money by performing a task I set for you. By exceeding my expectations you earned extra money. So, in a way, you applied for a job. Same thing today. You want money, you have to apply for the job.”

  The kid didn’t look convinced at first, but then brightened. “If I do good again today, will you give me extra money today, too?”

  “What did I just say, kid? I’m not giving you anything. You have to earn it. And I have to say, you’re not off to a very good start.” When Trevor’s expression fell and he hung his head, Max found himself amending, “But at least you’re more presentable now.” He ushered the boy back into the common room of the Y, his eyes automatically seeking out Zeta. He told himself it was because he needed her to get the little scamp away from him as soon as possible, refusing to acknowledge how he drank in the sight of her when his gaze landed on her.

  Today, she’d again insisted on jeans and a casual shirt. For her part, the material seemed to hug her ass, making him itch to squeeze the generous globes. Her turtleneck sweater clung to her hips, gently hugging every inch of her body from throat to waist, including those luscious breasts of hers. He’d had those breasts mashed against his chest only a few days ago and hadn’t thought to cup one to see what it felt like. For that he wanted to kick himself. But at the time, all he could think about was her exquisite taste, the perfect way she fit in his arms, and the rightness of the whole situation. Since that time, he’d avoided her, making excuses not to see her, to avoid being in her suite, the place she called home. Mainly because, when he thought of coming home after work, it was that suite of rooms with the curvy little Zeta Lawless he pictured in his mind. That simply wouldn’t do. At all.

  “What’s Miss Z teaching today?” Max asked.

  “They readin’ a book and takin’ tests.”

  “So, reading comprehension. You do what she tells you, do well on your test, and I’ll give you a dollar.”

  “I want five this time,” Trevor said, not missing a beat.

  “Then you have to make a hundred on the test.” Kid wanted to play hardball? Max could play hardball.

  “Done!” Trevor stuck out his hand, obviously wanting to seal the deal. Max took it gladly. Anything to get the kid away from him so Max could go back to contemplating what to do about Zeta.

  Only he found himself watching the kid nearly as much as he did Zeta. Trevor bounded over to Zeta and held out his hand. She placed a book in it, ruffling his hair as she did. The smile she sported seemed to light up her whole face. Hell, it lit up the whole damned room. How could one woman be so fucking beguiling? How could he be so obsessed with her?

  And it wasn’t only her. He’d taken an unwitting interest in her band of misfit students. Many of them joined her here to stay out of trouble or gangs. Some simply had nowhere else to go. Trevor and Shani stayed at the Y until their mother got off work cleaning at the motel. After some looking, Max had found Zeta hadn’t been exaggerating about the place either. It was definitely a seedy joint, renting rooms by the hour and swarming with prostitutes and pimps. Drug dealers followed, and Max had actually grown concerned for the woman’s safety. If the mother fell into that lifestyle, the children would surely follow. Well, that was something he could help. But, as always, he’d demand a price.

  As if he’d conjured the kid’s mother, Max’s best friend and the man he always called when he needed information rang his cell. “She’s on her way in,” Samson informed him, no emotion coloring his voice. “Had a particularly hard day. Now would be a good time to strike a deal with her.”

  “Thanks for the information,” Max muttered, not drawing out the conversation. Needing to get to her before she got far enough inside for the kids to spot her, he met her at the door, drawing her aside to make her an offer she’d better not refuse.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zeta saw Maximilian take Trevor and Shani’s mother aside before she came for her children. At first, she was wary. Maximilian could be abrasive and insulting at the best of times. Fortunately, they seemed to have a civil conversation ending with Max giving her a card—likely his business card, but Zeta couldn’t imagine why. She shrugged. It wasn’t any of her business as long as Max didn’t do anything to make the young mother feel bad or less than what she was. In truth, Zeta admired the woman. She did what she had to do to provide for her children. Did they always have enough? No. But it wasn’t for lack of trying.

  Even now, coming from what had to be a horrible, dirty job, Debra was clean and neat, if not fresh looking. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, but the shirt was tucked in and plain with no writing or images. A thin belt cinched
her waist, and her hair was in a tight bun with only a few thin strands escaping the confines. She smiled at Maximilian, thanking him for the card before she went to her children.

  Trevor made a beeline for Maximilian with the results of his Accelerated Reader tests on two books he’d read that afternoon. They were at his grade level, and the child had breezed through them, making a perfect score on both tests. Zeta suspected the child had been holding back on everyone but was now coming out of his shell for one reason and one reason only. To impress Max. And to claim his money so he could buy his sister and mother a hot dog.

  When he waved the printout in front of Max’s face, Max turned to Zeta with a raised eyebrow. She grinned and nodded at him. Yes, the child had indeed aced his AR test. Pay up, sucker.

  Zeta hadn’t failed to notice how Trevor had cleaned up before coming to her for his assignment. When she complimented him on how nice he looked, the boy had looked first startled, then his chest had swelled with pride. “Max said I always had to look my best when getting a job,” he’d said. Of course, Max would make this out to be something as important as a job. And, really, he was right. If Trevor approached it as such, he’d always be prepared when he got to the higher levels in school. Not only that, but his self-confidence would be much higher. The man was perfect to impress a youngster like Trevor. If he’d just take it seriously, Max could be such a good role model for all these kids. And God help her if her heart Max ever decided to take on that role.