Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) (5 page)

“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.

“You okay?” RT asked, a hint of concern in his gravelly voice.

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.

Worked for her.

“Nothin’ to tell. I know him.”

“Intimately?”

Courtney lowered herself into the chair opposite RT, watching while he unscrewed the lid from the bottle and poured the clear liquid.

“Yes,” she finally said. “I know him intimately. But it’s been over for a long time.”

“How long?” he asked, raising his gaze to meet hers.

“Not long enough,” she muttered.

When he pushed one of the shot glasses toward her, Courtney drew it closer.

Lifting the glass, she watched RT. Neither of them looked away as they both downed their shots. As the vodka left a tingling burn down her throat, Courtney put the glass back on the table, easing it closer to RT for a refill.

He obliged and they repeated the process.

“How’d you end up meeting him?”

“An op.” Courtney nodded toward the bottle, signaling for him to refill the glass. “If you remember, two years ago, Max’s uncle had a stroke, which left him incapable of fulfilling his duty within the organization. The Adorite family came together to show their support when Max took over as underboss. That move advanced him to the second most powerful position within the family.” She’d originally been sent to the Adorites to get intel when the power exchange had occurred, and had she acted as the professional she prided herself on being, none of this would’ve ever happened.

“A sanctioned SBM op?”

Courtney nodded, downing the next shot RT had poured her, once again returning the shot glass for another as the heat from the liquor seared her all the way down to the pit of her stomach. She welcomed the distraction. The last thing she needed was to spend any more time thinking about Max.

“Who assigned it? My father? Or yours?”

“Mine,” she told him.

“Who was the client?” he inquired, his face reflecting none of the interest she heard in his tone.

Courtney shrugged. “That’s more your job than mine. Asking who and why is not in my job description. I simply did as I was instructed, hoping to get all the facts I could and relay them to Casper.”

Casper Kogan, Courtney’s father, had been keeping tabs on the Southern Boy Mafia for an undisclosed client when the news had come in regarding the change within the mafia family’s hierarchy. Duty to the client, as well as curiosity, she suspected, had driven Casper to assign Courtney to go in and see what details she could get. Purely informational and, according to her father, completely off the radar.

“Why you?” he asked, staring back at her.

Courtney glared at him. For all intents and purposes, RT was her boss. He was the next in line to take over Sniper 1 Security alongside her brother Hunter and had been playing the part for the last year. That didn’t mean she would tolerate the condescension in his tone. “Why
not
me?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” RT said, defending his obvious misstatement. “However, had it been my decision, I wouldn’t have sent someone quite so…”

Courtney’s eyebrows lifted, daring him to finish that statement.

“Tempting. That’s what I was gonna say, Courtney. Don’t get all up in arms. No one is sayin’ you’re not good at your job. You’re an exceptional security consultant, bodyguard, whatever you wanna call yourself. I just think it would’ve made more sense to send in Hunter or even Clay.”

“They didn’t have the required … skills to get the job done,” Courtney informed him, tilting her head to the side.

“Or Casper didn’t want me findin’ out,” RT mumbled, pulling her empty shot glass back over to his side of the table.

Courtney lifted her eyebrows in question.

RT shook his head as though clearing his thoughts. “So you went in, attempted to breach the walls of his organization, and the two of you started what? Dating?”

Courtney wasn’t even relatively close to being comfortable with the direction this conversation was heading—at least not where her personal life was concerned—so she changed the subject. “You tell me what’s goin’ on between you and Z first. Then I’ll be happy to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets.”

RT’s gaze bored into her, his crystal-blue eyes flickering as she’d seen on more than one occasion when Z’s name was mentioned. She knew that he didn’t want to talk about Z or the feelings he’d evidently developed for the guy over the years.

“Nothin’ to tell.”

Exactly.

Courtney smiled. “Then we’re even,” she stated, nodding her head toward the shot glasses. “Let’s drink.”

For the next few minutes, neither of them said anything, both downing one shot after another until RT set the bottle aside and leaned forward. His expression turned serious.

Ryan Trexler was like a brother to her. The Trexlers, like family. Since Casper Kogan and Bryce Trexler had created Sniper 1 Security some thirty-odd years ago, their lives had become entwined. And when Casper and Bryce had started their own families, those families had become interlaced. Since Courtney had grown up around the entire Trexler family, RT’s sister Marissa being her best friend, Courtney expected RT—the oldest of the Trexler children—to care about what happened to her, about how she felt, but she really wasn’t in a talkative mood.

She’d prefer to take the alcohol to her bedroom, down enough shots to block out all thought, and then crawl beneath the blankets. It wasn’t an indulgence she gave herself over to often, but tonight of all nights, Courtney felt she deserved the mental break.

“You okay with what went down tonight?”

Courtney knew he was referring to Max killing the ATF agent. Truth was, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “If you’re askin’ whether or not I’ll lose sleep over it, the answer’s no.”

Her concern was more about her mental state and the fact that she’d felt a strange detachment to the situation, likely due to the things she’d seen during the year she’d spent with Max. Throughout the ordeal in his office tonight, Courtney had been more worried about keeping Max safe, making sure the tables didn’t turn on him. The fact that Duchein was going to die at Max’s hand—because she’d known that was what it was coming down to—had been the least of her concerns. Caring about what happened to Max only pissed her the fuck off. Max was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

He’d informed her of that on more than one occasion.

But more importantly, Courtney was going to have to give some serious thought to her own intentions. Had Max not killed that asshole, Courtney couldn’t say that she wouldn’t have. And she wasn’t sure exactly what her motivation would’ve been. Trace and RT had had the situation under control at all times. Even when Duchein had grabbed her, she’d known they wouldn’t allow him to take her. Sure, Duchein was a threat, and he’d needed to be eliminated, but they had enough dirt on him to put him in prison. He didn’t have to die.

But he had.

Before RT could say anything else, Courtney’s cell phone chimed.

She was up and walking across the kitchen before she realized she’d moved. A wave of dizziness swept over her, letting her know she was a little on the tipsy side. How many shots had she had? Three? Four? Seven?

Squinting down at the screen, Courtney frowned when she saw who it was.

Punching the talk button, she put the phone to her ear. “What do you want?”

“Let me through the gate.”

“No.”

“Courtney.”

God, she hated the way he said her name. It was so … sexual.

“Let me through.”

Sighing, Courtney hung up the phone and then hit the icon for the program to allow her to see who was at the main gate of the family compound. Sure enough, it was Max. More accurately, it was Max’s phantom-black Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat idling at the gate, waiting for her to grant him entry.

“Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” RT questioned.

Hitting the button to allow Max through the security gate, Courtney resigned herself to having to deal with him. She hadn’t been naïve enough to believe he would just leave her alone. It was never that simple for her.

“Nothing,” she lied. “Max is here.”

RT’s golden eyebrows lifted as he pushed to his feet. “Courtney, you need to stay away from—”

Courtney put her hand up, effectively halting RT’s brotherly advice. “Don’t. Don’t tell me what I need to do. I’m twenty-six years old. I know what’s good for me, and I know how to make my own decisions.”

“I just—”

“I know,” Courtney stated, lowering her voice. “I know you care about me. But I know what I’m doin’.”

RT simply watched her, and she wondered whether he was assessing her state of mind.

A car door closed outside, interrupting their stare down.

“I guess that’s my cue to go.”

Courtney wanted to tell him to stay, to be there as a buffer between her and Max, but she didn’t.

She blamed the liquor.