Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The images conjured up had me coming so hard that I fell back against the shower wall, my fucking legs feeling weak.
“Great,” I grumbled to myself.
Really, the last thing I needed was to know that just the idea of being with someone like Max could have that kind of impact on me while I very much needed to work alongside her until this shit was solved.
Or at least, that was what I thought as I draped a towel around my hips and made my way into my bedroom.
And there was Max.
Looking for me.
But likely not expecting to find me practically fucking naked.
Even from across the room, I could hear the way her breath hitched, how her lips fell open, how her eyes went heavy-lidded as her gaze slid over me.
Yeah, correction.
The last thing I needed wasn’t to find out that I was attracted to Max. But that she was also very clearly attracted to me as well.
“Feel better?” I asked, watching as her gaze flew back up to my face, the desire on plain display for just a moment before she tamped it down, hid it back behind a mask of indifference, if not outright disgust. “After the nap,” I clarified.
“I, uh, yeah,” she said, keeping her gaze stubbornly on my face even as I moved closer. “I never knock off like that. I usually really struggle to sleep, actually. Apparently, all I need is a—what—five-thousand-dollar couch to sleep properly.”
“It was forty-five hundred, but I got a feeling it had nothing to do with the couch. Think you might have passed out like that on the damn subway; you were so dead on your feet.”
I made my way over toward the closet as I said this, leaving the door open as I grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, turned, and dropped the towel to pull them on.
I turned just quickly enough to catch her forcing her gaze back down to the floor. It took actual work not to smile as I slipped into socks, slacks, a shirt, tie, and jacket.
“Good God, do you ever just wear jeans? Sweats?”
“Not really, no,” I admitted. Appearances were important to me. A nice suit told the world that you were someone. It demanded notice and respect. And, in the Family, it said you belonged. “Gym, maybe. And sleep. Those are about the only times I’m not dressed,” I admitted, fetching a different pair of cufflinks, then slipping my cross necklace and watch back on.
The last things were my shoes and a spritz of cologne that I could swear made Max let out a little whimpering sound.
It was a sound I absolutely did not need to know.
But now I was stuck with it.
“How long was I out?” Max asked as we both moved back into the hallway.
I checked my watch.
“Four hours,” I told her.
“Shit,” she hissed, rushing back toward the couch where she fished out her phone from between the couch cushions, likely afraid Megs had called or texted.
“She’s probably drained and taking a nap by now,” I reminded her.
“Right,” she said, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “So, about the pictures.”
“I’ll bring ‘em up for you. After we order something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“By my estimate, you’ve already missed two meals today,” I said, reaching for the drawer I kept stocked full of menus.
“Why do you care?” she shot back, crossing her arms and shooting me a suspicious glance.
“Sugar, if I had ulterior motives, don’t you think I’d have taken advantage of them when you were passed out? I just want some food. You need food. That’s all there is to it. You want Italian or Chinese?”
For just a moment, I saw a flash of the real Max underneath all the guards she put up. Someone so used to taking care of everyone else that she had no idea what it was like to be taken care of.
And, fuck, if that didn’t just make me want to care for her some more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Max
Okay.
Well.
Coming across him wearing just a low-slung towel that put an unexpectedly toned body on display when I was still a little slow and soft from sleep was definitely not part of the plan.
I’d woken up slowly, thanks to some siren blaring on the TV, then all at once, remembering where the hell I was.
I shot up off the couch, the blanket Miko must have draped around me sliding back onto the cushions as my sock-clad feet met the ground. And then I remembered him kneeling down to take off my boots.
How the hell had I let that happen?
How had this man that I’d known for point-five seconds managed to disarm me so easily?
Determined to try to get some of my dignity back, I went in search of Miko. I figured I would find him flipping through images on his laptop. Not walking through his bedroom nearly naked.