Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) (8 page)

Chapter Nine

Drunk enough? Hmm… No, not yet.

Present day

March 4th

Max didn’t try to hide the fact that he was three sheets to the wind when Angelica arrived at his house that evening. Nor did he pretend that he wanted to see her. He’d merely called her over so they could hash out the details of their upcoming nuptials. He’d met with Artemis earlier in the day, agreeing to his terms for the land.

By marrying Angelica, Max would soon take possession of nearly seventeen thousand acres of ranch land along the US-Mexico border. It wasn’t that Max couldn’t afford to purchase the land, but the senator refused to sell it outright for various reasons. Exactly how the proposition had come about, Max was still looking into, but from what his father had said, Artemis Winslow had approached him with a suggested arrangement that would benefit both the Adorites as well as Artemis—financially as well as organizationally. The downside, now that Max had agreed—he would have to marry Artemis’s granddaughter, Angelica.

Just the thought of marrying her had him tossing back the rest of his drink and marching back to the nearly empty bottle for a refill.

After the shit day he’d had, it’d seemed appropriate that he got shitfaced and had to face the wicked witch. Seeing her would only bring another downturn in his mood, and after last night with Courtney, walking away from her… Max didn’t think it could get much worse.

Hence the reason he’d been drinking for the last few hours, trying to numb the pain that had taken up residence in his chest.

I want you to leave, Max. I never want to see you again.

He could still hear her words, and every time they replayed in his head, he fought the urge to punch something.

“Sir?” Leyton called from the doorway. “She’s here.”

Max nodded but didn’t say a word.

As though walking away from Courtney hadn’t been hard enough, now he had to plan a fucking wedding.

Fucking married.

A hell of a business arrangement, wasn’t it?

Angelica’s heels clicked on the hardwood floors of his living room when she entered the room, the sound making his back teeth hurt. He downed more scotch, eyeing her as she moved toward him. She reminded him of a jungle cat on the prowl, ready to claim her mate. The thought made his stomach turn.

“I’m so glad you called,” she said sweetly, closing the distance between them, clearly oblivious to the fact he didn’t want her anywhere near him.

Max purposely put space between them. He damn sure didn’t want her touching him. After his encounter with Courtney … Max wasn’t sure he’d be able to let another woman touch him ever again.

“Sit,” he ordered. “Somethin’ to drink?”

“No, I’m good, thank you.” Angelica moved to the sofa, her eyes trained on him as she elegantly took a seat. “I thought maybe you’d offer me dinner.”

“Not tonight,” he told her.

“Somethin’ wrong?” she asked, her blue eyes fixed on him.

Max busied himself by pouring another drink, then moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the pool. “Nothin’ you need to worry about,” he said, slurring some of his words.

“I heard that you accepted my grandfather’s proposal,” Angelica said sweetly.

Max nodded.

“Well, since you’ve so generously agreed to marry me in order to strengthen your organization, I’d like to think that by becoming your wife, I’m entitled to hear your problems.”

“Entitled?” Max snorted. “You really don’t get how this works, do you?”

“Explain it to me, then,” she said, her tone turning icy.

Keeping his back to her, Max gritted his teeth. “Maybe you should explain it to
me
, Angelica. What is it you’re gettin’ outta this deal? That’s somethin’ I haven’t figured out yet. Here you are, a good girl, allowin’ your grandfather to pimp you out?”

“He’s not pimping me out,” Angelica countered.

“No? Seems that it’d be a helluva lot simpler if I just paid him the fourteen million that the land is worth and we went our separate ways. Instead, good ol’ Artemis insists that I marry his granddaughter. Sounds like pimpin’ to me, sweetheart.”

Through the glass, Max could see Angelica’s hands fisted at her sides. He was met with silence, so he glanced over his shoulder. She was looking at her feet, not bothering to answer, which raised his hackles a little. When he was in a better frame of mind, he needed to seriously give that some more thought.

But not tonight. He didn’t want to think tonight. Or feel.

Hell, the only thing he wanted to do was drink until he fell down. And if he no longer hurt at that point, he’d consider the night a success.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Angelica finally said, drawing his attention back to her. “Our marriage will benefit both of our families. With your political pull, he’ll continue to hold his office. With him giving you the land, you’ll expand your business. And if things go well, maybe we’ll be able to find what we’re both lookin’ for.”

“Which is?” he asked with a snort.

“Love. Happiness.”

Max laughed. “It’s business. Plain and simple.”

“Business. Right. It’s all about the land with you, isn’t it?” Angelica said snidely, clearly offended by his remark.

Max nodded.

“Keep in mind, I wield some power of my own,” Angelica snapped.

“Is that right?” he slurred. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gettin’ out of this deal.”

“Protection,” she said quickly, her eyes widening as though she’d said something she hadn’t meant to.

“Protection?” he questioned. “Who do you need protection from?”

“My grandfather’s a powerful man. He has enemies. If I’m your wife, he won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Max lifted his eyebrows. Was she fucking serious? And she thought it was a good idea to marry him for that bullshit reason? He didn’t buy it. Something was off, and he wanted to know what it was, but his brain was too fuzzy to deal with her at the moment.

“Well, it looks like we all get what we want, then don’t we?” he murmured.

“If, by that, you mean we’ll have babies together, grow old together, then yes, we’ll all get what we want.”

He snorted again. He damn sure wasn’t having babies with this woman. Hell, he didn’t want his dick anywhere near her.

Rather than turn to face her, he kept his attention on the exterior of the house, watching the water ripple as it cascaded from the hot tub down into the pool, the lights beneath the water shifting from blue to red.

His mind attempted to drift back to a different day, a different woman, but before that memory took root, he felt Angelica’s hands on his back. He instantly stiffened, a chill racing down his spine, and it wasn’t a comfortable one. Gritting his teeth together, he fought the urge to pull away.

“This can be a good thing, Max,” Angelica said softly.

Her perfume assaulted his sinuses, making him instantly nauseous. There wasn’t anything subtle about the woman, not her demeanor, not her sense of fashion, and certainly not her taste in perfume. He hated it.

“Don’t wear that shit again,” he told her.

“What?” she asked incredulously, her hands falling to her sides.

“That perfume. It’s hideous. Don’t wear it around me again.”

Angelica huffed but didn’t move away. “You’ve had too much to drink, Max.”

He was thinking he hadn’t had nearly enough, but he kept his mouth shut.

“If you’ll keep your mind open to the possibilities, I think we’ll have a happy life together.” Her arms came around him, her hands sliding over his stomach.

Why did it sound as though she were still trying to sell him on the deal? Hadn’t he told her it was done?

Max wrenched out of her grasp and headed for the liquor once more. “What fucking part of this do you not get? It’s business,” he told her bluntly. “Don’t think this is some fucked-up fairy tale. We’re not havin’ babies. Hell, I don’t even wanna have sex with you.”

“Max!”

He spun around, meeting the shocked expression on Angelica’s face. She looked as though he’d slapped her, and he couldn’t even bring himself to give a shit.

“When’s the weddin’ date?” he questioned. “I need to know the logistics so I can show up when expected.”

She studied him momentarily and then took a deep breath. “I think we should do an engagement announcement,” she said, her tone chipper once again.

Had the woman not heard anything he’d said?

“We’ll have the
Dallas Morning News
do an article on us. After all, we need this to look real. I’m thinkin’ a June wedding would be appropriate. It’s the perfect season.”

Perfect? For what? His life sentence without the possibility of parole?

There wasn’t anything perfect about it. It was all bullshit.

Max turned back to the windows, keeping his eyes on her reflection in the glass. He didn’t want her to get too close. It wasn’t that he completely disliked her, but he couldn’t bear the touch of another woman. Not yet, anyway.

“My grandfather has some connections. We’ll book the venue of our choice. Do you have any place in mind?”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck,” he said harshly. “Like I said, I just need the details once they’re finalized.”

“Why’d you call me over here, Max?” Angelica questioned softly, a trace of hurt in her tone.

He turned to face her. Studying her for a moment, he finished off the rest of his drink before setting the empty glass on the table with a loud clank. Trying to pretend he wasn’t wasted, he glared at her. There were two Angelicas staring back at him. He found it sadistically amusing. As though one weren’t enough.

“To make sure you understand this is strictly business. Nothin’ more. We won’t be sleepin’ together, you won’t be in my bed, and you won’t be cookin’ my meals or pretendin’ to be the good wife. There’s a contract involved, and I’ll follow it to the letter, but know that it’ll never be about love. I wanted you to look me in the eye and tell me that you understand that.” Stumbling once but quickly righting himself, he moved toward her. “I’m not lookin’ for love or sex or a family. It’s a mutual agreement. Nothin’ more.”

“I think you’re drunk.”

“There’s no
thinkin’
about it, darlin’. I’m wasted.” And yet it still wasn’t enough. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Max.” Angelica crooned his name, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “If you give us a chance, I think you’ll find that I’m not as evil as you want me to be. I also believe, in time, you could actually come to love me.”

Max wrapped his hands around her scrawny arms, jerking her forward and bringing his forehead down to hers. “I’m not in the market for love,” he barked. “Do you understand that?” The rage that boiled in his gut intensified. “Not with you, not with anyone. And as long as you can wrap your fucking mind around that concept, this’ll work just fine. If not, then I suggest you reconsider before it’s too late.”

Releasing her, Max headed toward the stairs, staggering again but managing to keep upright.

“Leyton!” he called, glancing around in an attempt to locate his bodyguard.

“Yes, sir?” Leyton responded instantly, coming to stand just a few feet away. Max had no idea where he’d come from, but he was glad he was there.

“Show her out.”

“Yes, sir. Do you need anything else, sir?”

Max started up the stairs, an ache in his chest nearly sending him to his knees. “Yes, but not even
you
can get that for me.”

There was only one thing he wanted. But no one could bring Courtney back to him, and unfortunately, he had to figure out a way to come to terms with that.

Or die trying.

Chapter Ten

Impulsive? Her?

Okay, maybe a little bit.

Twenty-two months ago

The intimate Italian restaurant Max had taken Courtney to had been magnificent. Not only was the food incredible, but the entire outing had been far more romantic than she’d thought it would be. To be honest, it’d been exactly as a date should’ve been, though she hadn’t anticipated that with Max. Perhaps that was because he had an entourage of security following them, she didn’t really know. Or possibly because there were several patrons, as well as the owner of the restaurant, who wanted to bestow their high praises on him. It was like a scene directly out of
The Godfather
.

She’d been hesitant to go with Max when he had called and made the offer, but as the evening was coming to a close, she was glad she’d accepted. It’d given her a chance to watch Max, the way he interacted with others, the way others interacted with him. Throughout the meal, she’d even managed to get a few answers to her questions, although he had perfected the art of dodging more than he actually answered.

Now, as they arrived back at his home, where she’d insisted they meet prior to going out, she was trying to come up with an excuse to simply get in her car and go home before the inevitable happened.

This thing between them, the chemistry … it was already smoking, threatening to set off the fire alarms, and the longer she was with him, the more she wanted him, the more she craved his smile, his kiss, his touch. It was a recipe for disaster, and she was hard-pressed to ignore it.

Which was ultimately the problem.

A solid month had gone by since the last time she’d seen him, the night he’d cooked her dinner and then given her the most explosive orgasm of her entire life right on his dining room table. She hadn’t had to avoid him, because Max had done a good job of that himself. Although they had talked on the phone a few times, shared some rather sexy text conversations on top of that, she hadn’t seen him until tonight. Needless to say, the anticipation had been building.

Leyton pulled the Cadillac CTS through the main gates and headed toward the house. She was hoping he would pull up next to her Camaro and she’d be able to avoid going inside Max’s house altogether and just be on her merry way, but to her dismay, he pulled around to the back of the house and parked in the garage, the door closing silently behind them.

Max exited, holding out his hand for her, and she took it, scooting toward him and climbing out behind him. By the time Max closed the door, she realized they were alone in the garage. Although
garage
was a slight understatement for the monstrous room that housed at least seven cars and not a single tool. The floor was tiled with travertine, the walls painted a rich brown and made to look like leather. Or hell, maybe that
was
leather.

With her hand still encased in Max’s, she followed him into the house, where he went directly toward a set of stairs.

“I should—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he interrupted, stopping on the first step and turning to face her.

Courtney wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find the words. He stole her breath with just a look. The man was temptation personified, and Courtney never did have the ability to fight her impulsive nature around him.

Before she could come up with something to say, he continued, “You should stay with me tonight.”

Courtney knew she should refuse. It wasn’t going to benefit either of them if she stayed. Well, other than possibly explosive sex.

The heat in his golden gaze spoke of promises and orgasms, and her traitorous body found a way to overrule her common sense. The next thing she knew, they were stepping into a beautifully decorated bedroom on the second floor.

Max’s bedroom.

Another room that looked as though it should be pictured in a magazine with its oversized masculine furniture, dark hardwood floors, rich silk bedding—black and maroon, which matched the large rug on the floor. On the far side of the room was a monstrous stone fireplace that was the focal point of one entire wall. She found it interesting that there wasn’t a television in sight, but considering all she knew about Max, she assumed there was one hidden somewhere for when he needed it.

A tray containing a decanter of what she assumed was brandy, considering Max’s preference for the stuff, along with two crystal tumblers sat on a table near a set of French doors that were standing wide open.

Max released her hand and moved toward the liquor while Courtney made her way out onto the balcony. The night air was warm and humid, but the light breeze coming through the wide space was refreshing. It did little to cool her off but managed to calm her rioting nerves somewhat.

When he joined her a moment later, Max handed her a glass and then leaned against a column to her right, his eyes on her.

“It’s beautiful up here,” she told him as she peered out over the acres of land and trees before her. In the distance, she could see a pond with the moonlight bouncing off the water.

Max didn’t respond, but she hadn’t needed him to. Sipping from her glass, she did her best not to think about him or the fact that her body temperature continued to rise with each passing second. There was no doubt in her mind what would transpire between them tonight, but somewhere deep down, she knew there was a reason she should go.

Getting close to Max wasn’t in her best interest. At least not like this.

She’d managed to get little to no information on the man in the past few weeks, settling on taking a few small jobs that kept her close to home while she anticipated the opportunity to see him again.

It was one thing to dig for information, but Courtney knew that patience was a virtue when it came to getting that level of detail from a man like Max. If she had come on too strong, he would’ve pushed her away. And if she had tried to avoid him, the chances of her getting anything at all were nil. So she was caught between a rock and a hard place.

And she was hoping that hard place would soon be Max’s warm body, as fucked up as that might sound.

Several minutes passed before Max came to stand behind her. He took her glass from her and placed it on the balcony’s ledge, and then his strong hands were on her shoulders.

Courtney trembled, his mere touch threatening to make her knees buckle. She’d dreamed of him touching her again, of her being able to do the same. She wanted to know how his hard body felt against her palms; she wanted to see more of him, taste all of him.

Max turned her to face him, his big hands cupping her jaw as he seemed to enjoy doing while he stared down at her.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” he told her, the raspy rumble of his voice rattling her nerves delightfully, making her insides tingle with awareness.

“Me, either,” she whispered back, her eyes roaming over his face, taking him all in, his dark eyebrows, his perfect nose and smooth cheeks, those full lips, and his square jaw. The man was too handsome for words.

Devastatingly beautiful, she’d have to say, which was a total contradiction to the man’s soul.

“I’m gonna touch you, Courtney. And I’m not gonna stop.”

Courtney nodded. She wanted that. She wanted it more than she wanted oxygen or water or… Hell, she wanted it more than she wanted anything.

When his hands caressed her bare arms, his lips pressing gently against hers, holding back just enough to keep her wanting more, Courtney thought she would spontaneously combust. Even the slightest touch made her body quiver, and she ached to feel him touch her in other places, intimate places. She wanted his mouth on her the way he’d done the last time.

He was going so slowly. Too slowly. She wanted to feel him everywhere.

Leaning up on her toes, she met his mouth with hers, desperate to taste him. When she coaxed her tongue into his mouth, she tasted the brandy as well as the dark promises of dirty, raunchy sex and glorious orgasms. This man knew his way around a woman’s body, and hers was ready for his perusal.

The kiss lingered, slowly at first, but the heat between them intensified. His hands moved over her arms, her shoulders, her neck. He never stopped touching her, leaving a trail of warmth over her sensitive skin. And then he was reaching behind her, lowering the zipper on her dress, and pushing the material down her body until it pooled around her ankles. Stepping out of her heels, she grabbed his head and pulled him down to her, unwilling to release his lips.

A rough groan escaped him when she tugged on his hair, anxious to get closer. She wanted him to take her into his room and throw her down on the bed and have his wicked way with her, but Max had other ideas.

“Let me look at you,” he mumbled against her mouth.

Reluctantly, Courtney pulled back, her hands gripping the rail of the balcony at her back, which thrust her breasts forward. Her nipples hardened as Max’s eyes traveled the length of her body, ever so slowly. His fingertips grazed her collarbone and the slope of her breasts. He deftly unhooked the front clasp of her strapless bra, allowing the black lace to flutter to the ground.

A moan escaped her when he cupped each breast, kneading them firmly, sending electric pulses firing straight to her clit. The man had fantastic hands. Warm, big, and surprisingly smooth.

Her eyes followed his movement as he leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Arching her back, she attempted to get closer, aching for more. He continued to give both nipples his full attention, and when he went to his knees before her, Courtney could hardly breathe.

His fingers drifted down her sides, curved beneath the band of her panties as he tugged them down her hips, leaving her completely naked standing outside on his balcony. It was a rush being where anyone could see them. The erotic element only made her body burn hotter.

At twenty-four, Courtney had been with only three men in her life, and none of them had been even remotely as skilled at the art of seduction as the gorgeous man kneeling before her.

“Spread your legs,” Max demanded.

Her body instantly responded. She widened her stance, watching as his eyes raked over her most intimate place, his fingers smoothly caressing her sensitive flesh as he separated her slick folds. Her breath caught in her throat; a moan rumbled up from her chest as he licked her.

“Max,” she whispered, releasing the railing and gripping his thick, dark hair, holding him to her as he ravished her with his mouth.

There was no way she would survive a night with him. No way would she live to see tomorrow, because he would surely kill her with pleasure. And for the first time in all her life, Courtney was ready to hand over every ounce of herself to someone else. To him.

And for one night … this night … Courtney was going to give herself over to Max without thinking about the repercussions. Tomorrow she would find a way to put the pieces back together once he shattered her world completely, which, undoubtedly, he would do.

Even if that wasn’t in his plan.

□»«□»«□»«□

Max couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to bury himself inside of Courtney’s wet heat, to feel her body grip him, to lose himself in her arms while he fucked them both to another plane of existence.

For nearly a month, he’d fought the urge, punished himself for wanting to lose himself in a woman who could so quickly bring down his family should she get too close. The only pleasure he’d found was with his own hand, and that hadn’t been even remotely enough.

Pushing to his feet, he glided his hands over her glorious curves. “Don’t move,” he instructed.

Taking his drink, which he’d set down beside hers, Max moved to one of the chairs and set it on the small table. Turning to face her, he slowly undid his slacks, freeing his cock. Slowly stroking himself, he carefully took a seat, adjusting himself accordingly. While he teased his erection, he continued to look at her, to drink her in, to allow himself a few minutes to breathe before he took her hard and fast. When it came to Courtney, he knew the moment would be explosive, and he welcomed it, but he wanted to relish the sight of her for a little while longer.

“Max.” The way she whispered his name, her gaze lingered between his legs briefly before lifting to meet his again, her naked body trembled slightly made his cock jump.

Placing his glass on the table beside him, he released his cock from his slacks, continuing to eye her as he stroked himself slowly. He needed to feel her lush lips wrapped around his dick, sucking him deep into the furnace of her mouth.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough and raspy with need.

He was hanging by a thread, desperate for her, aching for her, but he continued to torture himself because he knew the pleasure he’d find when they finally came together would forever change him. It wasn’t something he took lightly considering the consequences of his actions and what that could mean for his family and his organization, but Max couldn’t bring himself to listen to reason.

He wanted her.

All of her.

Courtney released the railing, taking one step closer, then another until she was standing in front of him.

He brushed his thumb over the swollen head of his cock. “I want to feel your lips on me. I want to fuck your sweet mouth, Courtney.”