Maximum Risk (7 page)

He didn’t second-guess his decisions or wonder why most people behaved as they did. He assessed his options, threw the dice, and moved on regardless of the outcome.

So, what’s keeping me here?

And why is walking away from a woman, who hasn’t even agreed to a date, an outcome I’m unable to accept?

Tara woke up wondering why whoever was beating on her head with a sledgehammer had also made the sun painfully brighter than normal. She rolled over in the bed and pulled her blanket over her head.

Sleep had given her the chance to rewrite the night’s ending. She couldn’t remember every dream, but more than one had consisted of her losing herself in Max’s kiss, giving herself over to him again and again.

Damn you, Max Andrade. You and your sad eyes and your sexy smile. Why couldn’t you stay the arrogant, cocky man I thought you were? Why did you have to be so wonderful last night?

Not that last night was supposed to be fun at all. I was supposed to be working.

Oh, God.

I have to give Maddy’s money back. I am the world’s worst private investigator.

She hadn’t expected to enjoy her meal with Max, but she had. It had been easy, too easy, to get caught up in his gorgeous dark eyes and his playful grin. The wine had flowed, and Tara remembered laughing until her sides hurt. Max had laughed right along with her.

She held the pillow tightly over her face as she remembered how she’d offered herself to Max. Every touch they’d exchanged that night, every lingering glance, had increased the need within her until she’d ached for him—until she’d thrown all caution to the wind and practically begged him to sleep with her.

And why didn’t he?

Could it have been because of the outrageously personal stories I gushed throughout the evening?

No, it was probably the vomiting. Yes, that was not my best moment.

At least I won’t have to worry about him calling me again.
She tried to tell herself it was for the best, but she couldn’t help wondering what being with him would have been like. She didn’t consider herself inexperienced. She’d slept with more than one boyfriend. She couldn’t even say she was holding out for love. She wasn’t sure she believed in it anymore.

But she had to admit Max brought a part of her back to life that had been dying. She’d forgotten what it was like to want a man, to crave someone. That her desire for him came at the least convenient time didn’t make it less intense.

Sleeping with Max would have been wrong for more reasons than Tara could list.
She tossed the pillow aside, threw back the covers, and groaned when she saw she’d slept in the dress from the night before.
So, stop thinking about what didn’t and what never should have almost happened.

Barely looking around, Tara stumbled to the bathroom. Yesterday’s makeup was smeared down her cheeks. Her hair was in a wild tangle on her head. She looked exactly as she felt. She turned on the shower, quickly relieved herself, stripped naked, and stepped beneath the blissfully hot spray of the shower with a toothbrush in hand. She lathered, scrubbed, brushed, flossed, and lathered again until she felt less like the walking dead.

She stepped out of the shower, toweled off her hair, and then secured another towel around her. If the sun was up, Dyson would already have left for work. Confident that she was alone, Tara sought coffee before clothing.

She was halfway through the living room when she saw Max, in his dress shirt and trousers, lying on his back on her couch. She almost turned and fled, but he was still sleeping, and she was curious. She stepped closer, expecting him to stir, but he didn’t.

She allowed herself the luxury of standing above him for a moment. He was handsome even in his sleep. His family had not only been blessed financially, but also genetically. He had a strong jaw most men would kill for. Classical high cheekbones. And, although they were closed at the moment, the most beautiful dark brown, almost black, eyes she’d ever seen.

She remembered the photo Maddy had shown her of him with his brothers. It had been those eyes that had drawn her to him. When she’d met him in person she’d thought she’d been wrong. The arrogant, cocky man who had offered her a few hours in a hotel couldn’t have been the same sad man from the photo. Had she imagined a side of him that didn’t exist?

Last night Max had been yet another man. Down to earth. Self-effacing. And surprisingly funny. It was difficult to reconcile her very different impressions of him.

Which one was the real him, and why was he sleeping on her couch?

Tara reached out to touch his cheek, but stopped herself.
I should get dressed and ask whoever the hell he is today to leave. Doing anything else is asking for trouble.

Her eyes dropped to the crotch of his pants and noted the size of his early morning boner. Impressively large trouble.

She nearly screamed when his hand shot out and pulled her down onto him. Her towel opened, remaining across her back, but doing nothing to separate her exposed front from sliding intimately against him. His arousal nudged against her inner thigh. Tara shifted to move off him. He held her in place easily with a hand on her bare hip.

“Good morning,” he said as if there was nothing unusual about waking up to her strewn across him.

“Let me up,” she said, struggling to sit up. Her legs fell to either side of him, which put her directly on his rock-hard shaft. The material of his trousers was rough against her parted sex and she couldn’t deny how good it felt. She wanted to rub herself up and down along him. Her breasts bounced above him, nipples puckered with excitement.

He placed a hand on her other hip and held her to him, moving his hips so the connection between them was its own caress. “Why deny what you want, Tara? You were brave enough to go this far. Why pull back now?”

He continued to move his hips beneath her with mind-scrambling skill. Even while her breathing betrayed how excited she was becoming, Tara fought for control. “Go this far? I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t even know you were here.”

His hands loosened on her hips. “So you were innocently standing over me naked?” He raised one hand and cupped one of her breasts gently. “Sorry, my mistake.” He ran his hand down her side, across the top of her thigh and to her sex. Tara gasped as he dipped a finger between her folds and flicked expertly back and forth. “And this? Are you still wet from the shower?”

“I-I—” All coherent though left Tara at his touch. It didn’t make sense, but did it have to? She’d spent the night dreaming of this. Her body wanted this, and her mind rushed to justify it. What would sleeping with Max change? Nothing.

She’d already proven she couldn’t do the job Maddy had hired her for. All she had to do was rip up the check and explain to Maddy she’d been serious about quitting. Max wasn’t looking for a relationship. He’d already been blunt about that.

So what? I’m single. He’s single. Do I have to invest my heart into every relationship I have? Maybe not. Hell, I might even enjoy myself for a change. Isn’t that worth the risk of getting hurt? Just this once?

She leaned forward, hungrily closing her lips over his. She was on fire for him, and he met her kiss with a hunger of his own. He threw her towel aside and ran his hands over her while their kiss deepened. She braced herself above him, giving herself over to the intensity of their passion. This was a mating, pure and simple. Two bodies craving to become one.

She ripped his shirt open, loving how his powerful chest felt beneath her hands. His hands were as skilled as they were rough. Max was not a man who asked; he was a man who took, but—oh, the way he took. His mouth was hot and masterful. His tongue teased hers then went on to tantalize her sensitive neck, her eager breasts, lingering there to nip gently at her sensitive nipples.

He rolled Tara beneath him and took both of her hands in his, holding them easily above her head as he ran his other hand over her. “You are beautiful,” he whispered.

Fully in a sex daze, Tara whispered back, “You are, too.”

He chuckled deep in his throat and resumed kissing his way down to her navel. His tongue circled before proceeding any lower, and Tara arched backward as she gave herself fully to the feel of him.

Max’s finger continued circling below, indulging her pleasure by adding a second finger and placed his thumb over her clit, spreading her juices as she writhed against it. Fully aroused and unable to speak, Tara moaned softly.

“You want this as much as I do, Tara,” he murmured. “Tell me you want this.”

“Don’t stop, Max. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“One of us is wearing too much.” He looked down as his trousers.

Tara quickly grasped the zipper of his pants and undid them, trying not to think while she helped him out of them, pulling his boxer briefs off at the same time.

“Right pocket . . . condom . . . open it.” His hands kept titillating both her sex and her breasts while his mouth returned to her mouth. Not wanting him to stop, she swiftly ripped the foil, removed the latex, and rolled it over his ample erection.

He pulled her back onto the couch, rolling so he was above her. “Oh, baby, you are so wet. This is all I’ve been able to think about since I met you. You’re even better than I imagined.” He shifted his cock between her folds, and she felt time stop as he entered her.

Adjusting her hips so he could gain full entry, she gasped and took in his length. He slowly began to pump in and out. “You feel so good,” Max gasped and started to increase his speed.

It was good—by far the best mistake Tara had ever made. “Oh, God, Max. Faster. Harder. Yes. Do not stop,” she cried out.

***

Max was no stranger to fucking. He was told he was a generous lover. It was pragmatic, really. The more pleasure he brought his partner, the more she generally brought him. He remained in control, but took his time to ensure everyone left satisfied.

It was different with Tara. He hadn’t planned their first time to be like this and wasn’t taking his time with her. She was tight and felt too damn good. He felt himself losing control as she urged him to drive into her faster and harder.

As much as he wanted to last, he felt himself nearing his climax. She was clinging to him, digging her nails into his back, and he pounded down into her with a wild abandon he’d never allowed himself. As he neared release, he growled into her ear, “Come with me.”

“Oh, Max . . . I’m right there with you. You are . . . so good.” Tara jerked and moaned as Max climaxed. He kissed her deeply as they shuddered against each other. He propped himself on his elbows, remaining inside her as they came back to earth together.

He looked down into the most amazing brown eyes he’d ever seen and said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

She touched his cheek gently and said wryly, “I meant to ask you to leave.”

He smiled. “You do something to me, Tara. I can’t explain it.”

With gentle humor in her eyes, she said, “It’s pretty clear what I do to you.”

He kissed her smiling lips. “It seems safe to say I do the same to you.”

She nodded. “You may have just convinced me casual sex isn’t completely without merit. I always thought I needed to be in a relationship to enjoy it. Apparently that doesn’t matter.”

Max withdrew from her with a frown. He cleaned himself off, then walked back to the couch. Tara sat up and scooted back to make room for him. Still naked, he sat beside her. He didn’t say anything at first. He wasn’t sure what to say. All he knew for sure was he didn’t like her last comment.

Tara reached for her towel on the floor and wrapped it around herself. It didn’t cover her entirely. From where he was seated he could still see her neatly trimmed sex, but he wasn’t about to tell her. He doubted there was a man alive who would have. Still, the sight made sorting through his conflicting feelings even more difficult. She saw what they’d just done as something casual. He should be happy about that. Casual was all he wanted—all he ever wanted.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, seeming to sense his mood. “What’s the matter?”

He held up a hand, speaking to himself and her at the same time. “Nothing.”

She dropped her hand. “Should I not have been so honest? No wonder Brigitte skips out before her dates wake up. This is awkward.”

He knew enough about Brigitte and her overnight guests to dislike the comparison. He wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself, that being with Tara was different—made him feel different. So instead of discussing how he felt about them, he said, “I don’t like the idea of Dyson staying here with you.”

Tara cocked her head to one side, looking genuinely surprised. “Dyson? He’s harmless.”

“He’s far too comfortable being here without your roommate.”

“That’s because he and I have spent a lot of time together since he met Brigitte. I feel bad for him. He really likes her.”

“You’re not staying here alone with him.”

Tara stood up, tightening the towel around her. “I’m sorry? Since you and I won’t be seeing each other after today, it’s really none of your business who does or doesn’t stay here.”

Max stood and glared down at her. “Who said anything about never seeing each other again?”

Her eyes rounded. “You did? You don’t
do
relationships.”

“I don’t.”

Tara took a step back, chewing her lip as she did. She pointed a hand at his lower region without looking down at it. “It could be because you’re distracting me by waving your . . . whatever . . . at me while you speak, but I’m confused.”

He stepped closer. “I don’t want to talk, Tara. I want to spend the day exploring every sweet inch of you.” With one strong move, he whipped the towel off her. He grabbed one of her arms and hauled her against him, bare skin to bare skin. “I’m not done with you, Tara. I’m nowhere near done.” Her lips parted, and she let out a wistful sigh that was all the yes he required. He lifted her into his arms and carried her down the hallway to her bedroom. “I only brought one condom with me. Looks like we’ll have to get creative.”

With rounded eyes, she laid a hand on his shoulder and asked softly, “Creative?”

He laid her gently on the bed and took a moment to appreciate her sheer beauty. She had her long, lean legs chastely together as if they hadn’t just fucked in the other room. She raised herself onto her elbows, and he knew he’d never again see a more perfect set of tits. They were naturally high and round, what women strove for with implants.