Chapter Thirteen
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Max
For someone who was out half a million dollars, he sure reserved rooms at a fancy-ass hotel. I couldn’t quite decide if that was incredibly reckless or a real flex.
Either way, we both climbed out of the SUV, stretching muscles that ached from being in a cramped space for so long. Then we went ahead and wasted a minute or so wrestling over my duffle bag—Miko won—before making our way toward the doorman-manned entrance.
I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disturbed by the fact that no one seemed fazed by the sight of my face. No wide eyes, no asking what happened. Just silent acceptance.
Was that because, while Miko was incredibly good-looking, he was also insanely intimidating?
Miko was not the kind of guy who could go out on the street in a suit and be mistaken for a businessman; everything about him screamed ‘mafia.’
Even though he wasn’t responsible for my face and neck, I bristled at the fact that no one had the balls to try to see if I needed any help. Even as Miko checked in at the front desk and I turned around to look at the grandeur—sky scraping stone columns, opulent chandeliers with thousands of tiny glass pieces to scatter the light around, the shining inlaid floors, the abundance of comfortable seating just asking you to take a load off after a long trip—no one tried to catch my gaze; no one tried to help a woman who looked like she needed it.
“You ready?” Miko asked as he handed me a golden keycard.
I snatched it from his hands. “Yep,” I said, popping the p .
“Alright. What happened?” he asked, shooting me a bemused look as I leaned against the wall of the elevator car, my arms crossed.
“No one tried to offer me any help,” I told him. “Here I am, recently beaten to hell and strangled, standing next to a big, scary dude, and no one would even make eye contact with me.”
“In my experience, people can be really fucking brave—running into burning houses, tackling mass shooters, saving babies or animals from predators—but they can also be really fucking cowardly too. Especially around big, scary dudes,” he teased.
“Yeah, people kind of suck,” I concluded. “Animals are way better.”
“You’re thinking of that kitten, aren’t you?” he asked as the elevator dinged and we moved out onto our floor.
“It’s supposed to be so cold tonight. I hope she has somewhere to sleep.”
“She looked really scrappy,” he said, clearly trying to comfort me. “I’m sure she will manage. Last night was colder, and there she was this morning. Plus, now she has a full belly to help keep her warm.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, still sad for the poor thing. She was so small to be on her own against the big, mean winter. And, yeah, obviously, I knew that it had a lot to do with my past trauma. I just hoped that one of those people who took in strays would be able to see past the hissing to realize she was trying to protect herself.
“I’m gonna go take a hot shower to warm up,” I told him as I shoved my keycard in the lock on my door.
“I’ll knock later so we can get something to eat,” he said, moving into his own room next to mine.
“Damn,” I said as the door clicked closed behind me.
The walls were painted the same warm cream as the rest of the hotel, with those classic wooden wall moldings that the cleaning staff probably hated because each had to collect dust like crazy. The carpet was thick and squishy as I kicked out of my boots and moved inside.
Miko had secured me a king-sized bed, and I had to admit I was looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn’t groan each time I flipped around in my sleep. The bedding was luxe and warm and, incredibly, actually smelled like it had just known the inside of a washing machine.
After sleeping in many cheap hotel rooms, where I had to strip the scuzzy comforter off because I was reasonably sure it hadn’t been washed in a decade, it was real luxury to know the bedding was clean.
Across from the bed was a framed flatscreen made to look like impressionist art with its fancy screensaver.
I put my duffle down on the desk near the windows, reaching in to pull out the yoga pants and sweatshirt that were going to serve as my pajamas, as well as some panties and my bath products, then made my way into the bathroom.
“Jesus,” I said, nodding at my surroundings.
The entire space—from the walls, floors, and shower niche—was done in Calacatta Gold marble, the creamy white base with its gold veins making the room feel even more luxurious than it already was with its walk-in shower, double vanity, and clawfoot soaking tub.
The lure of that tub had me going back out to the other room and digging around in my duffle bag for the bleach wipes I always kept on me. There were some habits that died hard from my days on the streets. Like never taking food or warmth for granted. Like having trouble sleeping at night. And, of course, carrying just about everything with me that I could need to survive.
I’d downsized my purse since I was bringing the overnight bag, but I had food, electrolytes, spare gloves, a hat, a Mylar blanket, medicine, body wipes, bleach wipes, and disposable toothbrushes.
I had to talk myself out of packing more.
But I was glad for the bleach to be able to give the tub a little extra clean before rinsing it down and filling it, letting my fingers wiggle under the faucet as it filled, chasing the chill out of them and bringing their color back.
I stripped and slipped into the water, letting it ease the tension in my muscles from the stakeout. But finally alone, with the water teasing across my skin like a caress each time I shifted positions, the other kind of tension built once again in me.
To be fair, half the day had been spent trying to remind myself not to take deep breaths of his cologne, not to accidentally-on-purpose let our bodies brush, to stop letting my mind think of those strong hands of his moving from the gear shift and sliding up my thigh instead.
My own hand was following that direction without my even realizing it.
Objectively, it was probably not a good idea to engage in some self-satisfaction to the idea of Miko when life was going to keep forcing us together until this whole diamond fiasco was handled.But my the time my fingers teased to the top of my thigh, there was no stopping their path inward, between.
My head fell back on the porcelain as a little gasp escaped me, surprised by how needy I already felt, how sensitive to the tiniest of brushes I was.
I let my eyelids drift closed as my finger teased around my clit, while my other slid up my belly to squeeze my breasts, to tease my nipples to the idea of Miko’s hands, lips, teeth.
It wasn’t long before my fingers were slipping inside me, imagining Miko’s longer, thicker ones rocking inside of me, his palm pressed against my clit as he worked me, whispering wicked things in my ear. As he pulled back, then surged inside of me.
I came with a strangled cry at just the thought of that, my body trembling with the intensity as the pleasure rolled through me, keeping control over me for what felt like ages.
Until, of course, the post-orgasm haze faded.
And I was left with reality.
Which was a cold, wet blanket over any lingering desire, making me climb out of the tub.
The whole time I dried off and slathered on my lotion—that brown sugar sweetness that had been my first ‘luxury’ self-care product I’d purchased when Megs and I first got an apartment of our own and had a few extra bucks lying around.
It literally cost less than a cup of coffee, but at the time, it had been complete decadence. I was oddly attached to it. So much so that even all these years later, I couldn’t use anything else. I even panic-bought backups in case they ever decided to stop making it.
Finished, I dressed and made my way out of my room just in time to hear a soft knock on the wall.
“Come to the door, you idiot,” I called, tone light.
“This is a door, sugar,” he called, that voice like a caress over my warm, satisfied body.
“What?” I asked, following his voice to the wall where there was, of course, a door. Curious, I slid the lock and pulled it open. To find Miko standing there in his own hotel room. His jacket was off, a few buttons undone. “I thought this was the closet,” I admitted.
“Closet is on the other side,” he said, nodding behind me, making me turn to find another door.
“Right. I didn’t think adjoining rooms existed anymore.”
“They use them for families with kids, I think. But it works for us too. You feeling hungry yet, or is all that cherry plastic still holding you over?” he teased.
“Strawberry,” I corrected. “But, yeah, I’m starving, actually. But also… lazy.”
“We can order in. Or order up. They have a full menu. Though, it’s fancy shit.”
“Which means the serving size is only enough to satisfy a toddler’s appetite.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, waving toward my room, a silent request to be let inside.
I knew it was probably a bad idea, but I moved out of the way and watched him stride into my space.
I did not look at his round, firm ass as he passed. Well, not for long anyway.
“Went for the tub, huh?” he asked, and I could still hear the sucking sound of the water slipping down the drain.
“Yeah.”
“It’s important to have some… self-care time,” he said, his voice a sexy rumble as he turned to look at me.
Wait, did his eyes just go heated for a second?
Did he know?
Oh, God , had he heard?
I’d been a little, you know, distracted. I had no idea if it was one of those nice, quiet Os, or if I’d been moaning and whimpering through it.
“Anyway,” he said, and all the heat was gone, making me wonder if I’d imagined it in the first place. “I brought up all the local places. Can get delivery from anywhere,” he told me, sitting down on the foot of my bed with his phone in his hand.
He was waiting for me to sit and look with him. Every alarm bell was going off in my head, telling me that the two of us on the bed—even if we were both fully dressed—was a horrible idea.
Annoyed with my own thoughts, I walked over to sit beside him. Then I went ahead and pretended I wasn’t taking deep breaths of his whiskey and tobacco scent or imagining that finger he was sliding down the screen to show me the options moving over parts of my body instead.
“Sugar?” he asked.
“The burger place sounds good,” I said, shaking off those pesky, horny, clinging thoughts.
“Alright,” he agreed, bringing up the menu. “Surprised you don’t bite my head off for that.”
“For what?”
“Calling you that.”
He was right; I would normally give a guy an earful if he used a pet name with me when he didn’t even know me. I couldn’t come up with a good reason I let Miko do so unchecked. Except, of course, for the fact that I liked it when he did it.
“It’s accurate too,” he added, seeming to speak mostly to himself as he pinched the screen to zoom in on the scanned menu.
I knew I was supposed to be focusing on my options, but all I could seem to think about was the fact that I wasn’t the only one who found themselves obsessed with scent suddenly. And, you know, the fact that he liked mine.
“… trying to make it hard,” Miko said.
I was clearly catching the tail end of something but I squeaked out a strange, strangled, “What?”
“Sides,” Miko clarified. “They’re trying to make it hard to choose. Shoestring fries, curly, steak, wedges, disco, and pizza.”
“That’s an impossible choice.”
“So maybe we will have to get small sides of each to share,” he said.
“What’s that look for?” I asked as a smile teased at his lips as he shook his head ever so slightly.
“Just hearing my ma’s voice in my head about not eating a vegetable.”
“I mean, potatoes are a vegetable. A starchy one, but still.”
“I like that logic,” he declared. “Alright, pick a burger and drink so I can place this order. Want any dessert?”
“I think I had enough sweets for the week,” I said, thinking of the pack of Twizzlers, fruit snacks, snack cakes, and sugary granola bars I’d managed to eat in the SUV.
With that, Miko placed the order and went down to get it from the delivery guy as I shot off a text to Megs to check in. I always tried to let her know I was okay when I was working, so not doing so would have immediately put up a red flag.
“So, are you seriously going to ‘relax’ in the hotel room in a full suit?” I asked when he returned and put the bags on the desk, along with two serving trays like room service would bring, despite us not having ordered from the hotel itself.
“I took off the jacket. And the tie.” To my raised brow, he shrugged. “Alright. If you want to plate the food, I’ll go get changed. Unless you’d rather eat alone,” he said, turning back.
“The food is already in here,” I said, shrugging.
“I’d rather share a meal with you too, sugar,” he said, giving me a smile like he knew that was what I meant, even if I wasn’t willing to admit it aloud.
Alone, I pretended that plating our dinners required the utmost attention to detail. When in reality, I was hyper-aware of the sounds of Miko in the next suite since he left the door open between us.
Was he daring me to take another look?
No.
God .
What was wrong with me?
He figured I was busy with the food, so he didn’t see a need to close the door. Or he was changing in his bathroom.
I needed to get a grip.
I should not be so needy when I’d just had a damn orgasm.
“Alright. Happy?” Miko asked, making me turn to find him wearing a pair of thin gray sleep pants that were doing very little to hide what was beneath, and a plain white tee.
“How is that t-shirt so unwrinkled?” I asked, shaking my head at him as I held out his tray.
“You have any objections to the idea of eating in bed?” he asked, looking around at the obvious lack of seating.
He could have fetched his chair from his room, and I could sit at the one in mine. But neither of us suggested that.
“It’s the only way we can both see the TV,” I said, taking my tray over toward the side of the bed furthest from the door. “Really?” I asked when he settled on a silly little lighthearted sitcom. “Not what I expected you to like to watch.”
To that, he shrugged as he put a curly fry in his mouth. “Real life tends to be dramatic enough. I like something light on the rare occasion I can even watch any TV.”
“I can see that,” I agreed, even if I did kind of still have a thing for action. Though, yeah, it was usually the kind of over-the-top craziness that could never actually happen—cars flying off the tops of one building to the next, guns that never ran out of ammo, people grabbing helicopter ladders while doing a spinning dive off a cliff.
I picked at my food, but couldn’t seem to focus on the taste with Miko so distractingly close. His scent was muted by the oily smell of the fries and I was irrationally annoyed by that fact as I kept casting discreet glances in Miko’s direction, watching him eat more than actually eating much myself.
“No good?” he asked, plucking some of my curly fries off my tray when he’d finished all of his different fries and most of his burger.
“How do you eat like this and keep in shape?” I asked. Granted, I could throw back some pretty epic amounts of food when I really sat down to do so, but most days, I was surviving on too much coffee and a stolen bagel or donut while working.
“I don’t,” he said. “Eat like this,” he clarified. “But there’s nothing wrong with a binge now and again. Especially when it’s this good.”
It went like that for the rest of the meal. Me picking at my food, Miko stealing more and more fries. All the while I couldn’t stop glancing over at his stupidly handsome profile, the way his shirt had gotten tight around his chest and midsection from his position, the way his gray sleep pant material clung to… every inch of him.
Then the fucker had to go and bust out laughing at a joke on the show I hadn’t even heard.
There was just something about a man as in control and reserved laughing with his whole chest, head thrown back, smiling so big his eyes crinkled, that had my belly tightening. Was that desire? Something else? I had no idea, but I liked it more than was probably appropriate.
“Oh, fuck,” he said on the tail end of the laugh, shaking his head. “You okay?” he asked when he turned to catch me staring at him. “Max?”
No.
Nope.
I wasn’t okay at all.
I was doing everything in my power to stay on my damn side of the bed, not climb that man like a tree, ride him hard and fast, and hopefully put an end to this effect he had on me.
“Yep, fine,” I said, turning away from him to put my tray on the nightstand. “Just tired, I guess,” I said, slipping down lower to sell my lie. “But stay and finish your episode,” I said, since the opening credits were just starting to roll.
I really thought it was just a lie.
But as soon as my head was on the pillows, the weight on my lids became impossible to ignore.
I passed out to the sound of Miko’s laughter.
Then fell into a fitful, restless, sex-filled sleep.
I woke up on a frustrated whimper to find Miko’s face inches from mine, his eyes as heated as my body felt.
“Need me, sugar?” he asked, his voice a rough rumble that moved through me as his hand slid to my hip, ready but waiting.
I was too sleepy, too aching, and too damn tired of pretending I didn’t want him to say anything other than the truth I felt right then.
“Yes.”