TWENTY-FIVE
Luca
M ax struts around the ballroom, talking to mega donors who bought 10K plates for Stamford Children’s Hospital. With all the money in this room, he’s the star. Everyone’s darling.
He can never date a killer like me. Sigh.
He gave in and let me check out the driver first, who ended up being legit. Then he kept his head down, his gaze locked on his phone the entire time on the drive here. Now he’s ignoring me.
An outside investigative firm cleared the guests and gave me access to their data. The attendees are so rich, many of them have their own protection. Other bodyguards are hanging out in a lounge or outside with their limos indulging in a smoke.
The entire Crushers security team is here, and with no credible threat to Max right this moment, I melt back into the background with my guys.
“You and Ryan getting along better?” Bronwin asks me, fisting a crystal tumbler of scotch.
“I guess so.” A low chuckle in my chest breaks free.
If jerking off together counts.
I shove my hands deeper into my pocket to look bored.
Bronwin is drinking, but he’s the boss. He can do whatever the hell he wants. It’s not like he’s going to spring into action if something goes down.
He studies me. “You sure? He had on a big smile when he walked in here.”
That strikes me, but he walked in ahead of me. “ He did?”
“Yeah, kept looking back at you, too.”
If I had a glass, I’d drop it. But I play it off like it means nothing. “Probably making sure I’m keeping my distance. He doesn’t like me getting too close.”
Unless he’s threatening me with a good time. My heart dances in my chest thinking of that fucking kiss and feeling his hot cum hit my stomach. God, I want more of that. But I can’t touch him again.
“Keep up the good work, Sheppard.” Bronwin pats my shoulder and ambles away.
I watch Max from the edge of the ballroom near the doors that open to a lavish lobby. When I’m about to turn away, I catch it. Those sneaking looks under his golden lashes to find me in the ballroom.
To make him work for it, I change my position more often than usual. Every time I casually glance back, he’s watching me with a frustrated set to his jaw that satisfies the hell out of me.
This goes on for an hour, but I’ve run out of places to plant myself.
We finally lock on a stare and when I think he’ll look away this time, he crosses the room headed right for me. I brace myself to be yelled at for fucking with him.
Not wanting to be scolded by a client in front of people, I step into the lobby and wait for him in a quiet corner near the coat room, which is empty at the moment.
Watching Max burst into the lobby, I cross one ankle over the other preparing for his wrath. I guess I deserve it. I’m taunting him when he’s doing team PR. Shit, I can’t help it. I adore seeing what makes him tick. How far I can go.
“A word, guard.” He grabs me by the lapel with both hands and practically hauls me off my feet.
Breaking free from his grip, I bite out, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He growls and pushes me into the coat room. “What are you doing to me?”
“Watching you.” I set my feet apart, steeling my spine for a punch in the face.
“That’s not watching. You’re stalking me. From every corner of the room.” His red, flushed face suggests he’s more pissed than I took him for. “With eyes that aren’t looking for trouble. You’re...”
“You keep checking me out, so I moved. Remember what I told you about people watching your eyes and then finding me?” I cover my game, but Max sees right through me.
“Bullshit.”
“Maybe I like looking at you.” I give him a once-over. “You like being watched. You play professional hockey. You’re a god on the ice and you know it. You want the glory and the fame.”
“I had no choice.”
“What?”
“There was literally nothing else I was good at. I didn’t choose this. It chose me.”
“Same with me.” I argue, making him see we have more in common than he thinks.
“I doubt it was exactly the same.” Max pushes me up against the wall.
“Wait,” I mutter.
“For what?” His fist closes around my tie. The touch sends electricity through me, and I have to catch my breath. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” he snarls.
“Yank my face down and knee me in the nose?”
“Ha!” Max barks a laugh. “Caught that move on the ice a few nights ago, huh?”
“Yeah, I know you love playing dirty. ”
He swallows thickly. “Interesting choice of words.”
“Got something to say to me, or are you just intimidating me?”
When he doesn’t answer, I grab Max by the throat, surprise widening his eyes. I pull him in for a punishing kiss, but damn, he meets me fucking halfway. My mouth crashes into his and he hungrily accepts my kiss.
A second later, he takes over. Takes me over, takes what he needs from me. And he can have it. He can have all of me. God, what am I saying?
But I’m too lost in his mouth. We’re a sloppy, grunting mess of gnashing teeth, wet tongues, and swollen lips. Much different from the other night.
I feel the rage he wants to let out of his system, how he hates longing for me the way he does. But fuck, he wants me. It’s hard against my stomach, the long steely length of him.
“God, yes,” I murmur like a fool, and it breaks the spell.
Max shoves me away, gasping with wetness dabbing his lashes. His cheeks stained with a dark blush, he grinds out, “What the fuck? You said this can’t happen.”
“Apparently it did.” I’m so fucked.
Turmoil boils in his blue eyes as he backs out of the coat closet.
“Max, it’s okay,” I say, my voice small. Christ, I’m so down with giving him what he needs.
“No. This is not okay!” He grips my shoulders, pressing his face to mine again. But he doesn’t kiss me.
Who the fuck hurt him? I’ll fucking kill the man who did it.
“Lurking in the shadows suits you, not me.” Max storms away, leaving me a wrung-out mess, but wanting him so much more.
Fixing myself, I return to the ballroom to see the crowd has thinned out. I get caught in a stream of guests trying to exit the ballroom at the same time. Too many damn people!
When I reach the lobby, my heart crawls into my throat.
Max is...gone.