Baring It All

by Rebecca Hunter

  “Marriage,” she said, then laughed. “What M word did you think I was talking about? Max?”

  He snorted. “You said it. Not me.”

  She rolled her eyes and took another bite of a maki roll. Her smile faded. Was she thinking about Wayne or one of the other assholes she had dated? Max had plenty of faults, but he definitely wouldn’t treat a girlfriend like his administrative assistant...though that could make for some fun bedroom play. Back to the point: if those were the kinds of men she was dating, then there was no reason not to extend their arrangement for a little longer after they left Green Island.

  Max set his plate aside and took hers off her lap. He tugged her gently and gave her a suggestive smile. She took the hint, turning and climbing on top so she straddled him. Her dress was hitched high up her legs, and he ran his hands up the soft skin of her thighs.

  She relaxed in his embrace. This was everything he could want. His blood was running south fast, and he had the urge to unzip, pull it out and ask her to ride him hard. Goddamn, it was hard to resist. But for now, he wanted her in his arms, just like this. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. There was so much heat.

  He wasn’t ready to let Natasha go, but if this was temporary he wanted to leave her with something. That must have been why the next words came out of his mouth, so much more intimate than sex.

  “I think any man with an ounce of sense wouldn’t give a fuck about running errands or housework or any other thing like that. Not when he has someone like you,” he said. “And outside the bedroom, every touch should be a reminder that he’s the person in the room who makes you truly happy.”

  Right now, Max hoped like hell he was that man. And he had to figure out how the hell he was going to keep being that man for just a little longer.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NATASHA’S HEART GAVE a leap, and she tried so hard to fight the swell of messy emotions his words stirred in her. Max’s fingers lingered on her skin, and a shiver ran through her. His eyes were hot, intense, and there was no teasing smile on his lips. Something was happening between them, something more than just the sexy fun he had promised. She swallowed. Her breasts brushed against his shirt as she breathed, in and out, caught in this endless moment of intimacy. God, she could fall for Max so easily. Maybe she already had.

  Max seemed to be doing some of his own contemplating.

  She tilted her head, thinking through his words. “Does it work that way? That you can make someone happy?”

  Max was quiet for a long time. “That sounds like a leading question,” he finally said with a hint of a smile.

  “Really, it’s not,” said Natasha. “It’s just that I’ve always assumed it was the opposite with my mother.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The career she chose, the men she chose.” She shook her head slowly. “It was all her doing. She made herself unhappy, and then, finally, she met her most recent husband and decided to make herself happy. But before that...” Natasha rolled her eyes.

  “Even with your father?” asked Max after a while.

  “Especially with my father,” she said with a snort. “He’s as volatile as my mother is. Thank God I was young when they split up. I don’t think I could have handled the drama.”

  “What made things better?”

  “She finally got out of the entertainment business,” Natasha said. “No more secret affairs with directors, no younger actresses ‘stealing’ her roles, no tumultuous relationships with other self-involved actors.”

  His fingers made a trail up and down her arm. “Why did she leave?”

  “One director told her in no uncertain terms that she was too old for lead roles.” Natasha tamped down the memories of that day that threatened to take over. “But I’m actually grateful that asshole was so blunt. If he hadn’t been, she’d still be scraping the bottom right now.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “In Malibu. Barrett, her latest husband, is a lawyer for one of the studios,” she said. “Nice guy, soft-spoken. Quite frankly, I thought she married him for the money, but they seem surprisingly happy together.”

  A crease formed between Max’s eyebrows. “Maybe she just met the right person.”

  “Yes, that helped. But she probably wouldn’t have noticed that right person if she was on the set of a movie. She had to get herself away from the lure of stardom.” She was quiet for a while. “You know what drives me crazy about it? It’s like my mother still doesn’t understand this. She’d never make the choice to leave acting on her own. Why doesn’t she see how much better her life is without it?”

  “Maybe she loved it. People want to choose with their hearts, not their minds.”

  “Maybe.” She sighed.

  “But you want to do the opposite? Choose with your mind?”

  He reached up and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. The hum of attraction between them kicked up a few notches.

  She met his gaze and held it, studying him. This was getting very...intimate. Finally, she smiled. “We’re supposed to be analyzing you, not me.”

  He chuckled. “But you’re so much more interesting.”

  Natasha gave him a skeptical smile. “That’s one way of saying it.”

  “Natasha, I find you very interesting.” His gaze was warm, tender.

  She waved off his comment. “It’s the fish thing. Trust me, it’ll wear off.”

  Max shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I’d never tire of listening to you talk about fish.”

  She stilled. This was dangerous territory. The what-ifs and maybes of something more. It was the first step toward the cliffs of Illana Petrova insanity.

  Natasha pulled away from the heat of his body. “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure that after a few months you’d be running back to women who didn’t bring up the surprising drops in the sea cucumber population at dinner parties.”

  Max shook his head. “Not a chance. I’d like nothing better than to be a part of that conversation.”

  She wasn’t trying to put herself down, just insert a little dose of reality into this conversation. It was all theoretical, nothing to get worked up about, so she let it go. But there was something in his eyes as he looked at her. For a moment, he looked uncertain. Then his hands stopped, and he looked right at her.

  “There’s an event coming up next weekend. I’d like you to go with me.”

  She blinked at him. “What kind of event?”

  Creases had formed between his eyebrows, deeper this time.

  “A foundation dinner. For a charity.” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t getting the whole picture.

  “Just like that? You don’t have another date lined up for it?”

  He shook his head. “Wasn’t planning on taking a date to this one. It’s a family thing. But I’d love to hear you chat that room up with marine biology.”

  Natasha was still stuck on the word family. Even she knew he didn’t get along with his notoriously surly father. Everyone in Australia knew it. More importantly, she knew instinctively that this subject was a no-fly zone in conversation, but now that he had opened the door on this topic, she pressed further. “What happened between you and your father?”

  Max sighed. “Nothing monumental. Just the typical rebellious teen versus autocratic father thing. Which, apparently, I haven’t outgrown.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up in the hint of a smile.

  Now it was her turn to squeeze his hand. “You’re not a sullen teenager, Max. Not even close.”

  “When I was a kid, I was the fuck-up younger brother. Which maybe you can imagine,” he said, his smile curving into a smirk. “Too loud, too impulsive, too risky. My mother was the only one I was really close to.”

  “Your mother, the jazz singer your father very publicly fell
in love with and whisked away to Western Australia?”

  “Yep. And they stayed there all the way until the very end.”

  She sensed there was more to that comment, and she waited for more details but they didn’t come. Maybe it was just as well that they didn’t move into deeper territory. After all, this was just a sexy fling, even if it felt like... Well, she had no idea what this felt like.

  Natasha bit her lip and pointed them onto safer terrain. “You’re not going to tell me more about the dinner?”

  “Why?” he asked, smiling a little. “Afraid it won’t meet your standards?”

  She raised her eyebrows in mock concern. “Aw, are you worried about meeting my standards?”

  He tickled her sides, and she shrieked and squirmed in his arms. His cock was stiffening between them, and she rubbed against it, making them both moan. But as her breathing calmed, the original topic came back.

  “Why are you inviting me, Max?” she asked.

  “Beyond the possibility of getting laid afterwards?”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to tickle him back, but it wasn’t nearly as effective.

  Then he looked away, out at the ocean, like he was really giving her question some thought. Finally, he said, “The flowers.”

  She blinked, her mind racing to make the connection. He must have seen her confusion because he added, “The flowers you sent after my mother died.”

  Those flowers. Of course. It wasn’t that she had forgotten; it was the fact that he’d broached the subject at all that tripped her up. Natasha wouldn’t have known about his mother’s illness except that Max had let Alya know he would be out of touch for over a month, that someone else would be taking over any bodyguard duties she needed. Nothing else. Somehow, Natasha had known something big was happening. A few weeks later she’d read the news in the paper, so she sent flowers with a note.

  You’re not really a flowers kind of guy but I thought you might be this month. Natasha.

  The next time she saw him, Max said nothing about his mother or the flowers. He had just been his usual, easygoing self. So she’d let it go.

  “I should have said something before,” he continued. “It meant a lot.”

  If she wanted more details about his family, this was her opening. “You and your mother were close?”

  He nodded. “At least when I was younger. I didn’t see her much after I left home. Not until near the end.”

  “Breast cancer, right?” she asked. “I saw her obituary.”

  “She was stage four when it was discovered, so it all happened pretty quickly. When she knew she didn’t have much longer, she asked me to come. It was the least I could do,” he said. “My mother gave up a lot for our family, and I wasn’t the easiest kid.”

  The remorse in these words was doing funny things inside her. It must have shown on her face, because the corners of his mouth turned up, and he shook his head.

  “Nope. Don’t think it.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “I see that sympathy,” he said with a wry smile. “But I’m the last person you should feel sorry for. I’ve been all over the world, graduated from an Ivy League school and played professional rugby. I have more than enough money, and...” His hands glided up her legs, around her ass, and he pulled her against his erection. “I even have a nice big cock, which you seem to appreciate.”

  She sighed. “Ah, the priorities of the male mind.”

  “If that’s a priority list, I’ll put big cock first.” His delivery was so deadpan that she laughed, despite all the seriousness of their conversation.

  He was doing it again. Teasing, making her laugh, steering her further away from any personal discussion about him. But maybe that was okay. Because they weren’t together, and he seemed to be asking her to go to this function as a friend. Or some version of that.

  “Max?”

  “Yeah?” He was lazily stroking her thighs.

  “I’ll be your date for the dinner.”

  Max blinked at her in surprise. “You will?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s not private,” he said hesitantly.

  “I gathered that.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed her neck. “Thank you.” He moved a halter strap aside and kissed the curve of her breast. His lips lingered on her skin, his hot breaths sending shivers through her.

  “Are you going to give me a thank-you present?” she asked, rubbing against his cock.

  He laughed. “You’re lucky I brought a condom tonight. I don’t think you want the kind of present that keeps on giving.”

  She pulled back. “You don’t have an STD, do you?”

  Max let out a whoop of laughter, his body shaking against hers. “Hell, no. I meant a-bun-in-the-oven kind of present.”

  She plopped her head onto his shoulder and laughed.

  “I can’t believe you just said that,” said Max, poking her sides. Then he pulled her against him, flush with his body, and she rested her head on his warm chest. This was probably her best dinner date ever, despite the fact that the rest of her food was probably covered in sand at this point.

  A burst of longing hit her, deep in her chest. Oh, he was so warm and sexy and fun, so Max.

  She took a deep breath, resting her hands on his cheeks, the stubble of a day’s worth of growth prickling her fingers. Don’t think, Nat. Just enjoy this before it disappears.

  “Okay,” he said. “Thank-you present, coming up.”

  One of his hands moved up her back and tangled in her hair as he lowered his mouth to hers. His lips were soft, so achingly gentle. It was nothing like the explosively hot kiss in her kitchen, with its promise of other, dirtier things to come. This was a kiss just for this moment. He coaxed her mouth open, sucking on her bottom lip. She stroked his tongue with hers, and he responded. It was devastatingly intimate.

  She lost herself in the kiss, her whole body coming alive as their mouths became one, promising, begging with hungry groans instead of words. Oh, she could kiss him all night long. Except they didn’t have all night. Sooner or later, they had to get back to Alya. Natasha tried to get her mind to focus.

  “Sex on a beach.” Her lips brushed against his as she spoke. “I’ve had the drink, and it was just okay. Maybe the real thing is better?”

  Max’s smile pressed against her mouth. “I’m sure it is.”

  “You’ve never tried?”

  He shook his head a little. “I’d think it could get...sandy.”

  “We could stand up. Over by the palm trees.” She pulled back a little and nodded to where the beach met the lush green of the island. “I’ll hold on to a tree, and you can fuck me from behind.”

  His cock throbbed against her, and he groaned. Yes, that definitely turned him on, but he shook his head again. “No, I’d rather try it on the beach. It’s more...” Max, who never hesitated, seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Finally, he said, “I think it’ll be good like this.”

  Probably true, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say at first. She could think about that later. Instead, Natasha climbed off him and stood up, brushing the sand from her hands.

  “We can sit on my dress,” she said, standing in front of him.

  He was staring up at her, his gaze hot. “I love that idea, especially if it involves you stripping for me.”

  She waved the comment away. “You’ve already seen that.”

  “Watching you undress could never get old,” he said softly. It was the kind of comment he usually pulled off with a cheeky grin, but this time, his eyes were serious.

  She stilled, digesting his words, reading into them before she could catch herself. But he didn’t mean anything by it beyond attraction, so why did her chest squeeze at that admission? No, she would not r
uin this night by searching for meanings that weren’t there.

  Max propped himself back on his arms and stretched out his legs, then crossed them at the ankles. The last glow of the evening bathed a hint of light on his face. Natasha grabbed the hem of her dress and slid it up her thighs, over her hips and up her stomach, brushing her hands over her skin as she lifted. Max didn’t move. Next, she freed her breasts as she pulled the dress over her head, leaving her naked, except for her panties.

  Max’s mouth was parted, and his gaze was fixed on her chest. “This whole night you weren’t wearing a bra?” His voice came out a little choked.

  She smiled. “The dress has built-in support.”

  “One more reason I love it.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “What’s the other reason? That it’s easy to take off?”

  Max chuckled. “That’s another good reason.” His smile faded. “I was just thinking it looks beautiful on you. You’re beautiful, Natasha.”

  She had never felt so naked in her life. Natasha swallowed a lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

  The warm breeze caressed her skin as she turned for the ocean to shake the sand off her dress. Then she laid it carefully on the beach, the skirt spread to give them some room.

  “You sit first,” she said. “I’ll straddle you. Then we can avoid sand in uncomfortable parts.”

  Who was this new version of her, planning and directing sexy situations with a guy? But it wasn’t just any guy. It was Max, and after this afternoon together, everything felt so easy, so comfortable.

  He stood up, brushing the sand off his hands. His cock jutted out impatiently as he unbuttoned his shirt and lowered his shorts. Then he put his hand out.

  “Your panties?” Amusement danced in his eyes, and he added, “For a sand-free experience.”

  “Good idea.”

  She turned around, her back to him, and winked over her shoulder. Then she scooted out of her panties, sticking out her ass for a little extra fun. She dangled them from her finger, and he shoved them into the pocket of his shorts, his eyes still on her ass. Then he pulled out a condom and tore off the wrapper.