Chapter Twelve Max
Chapter Twelve
Max
If I could bottle her expression and stash it away, I would.
I clocked her the moment she sauntered in—all dark green fabric clinging to every curve, her hair mussed like she had just stepped out of a sex dream.
This is the last place I expected to see her. But she’s here, and my plan for an easy, fun distraction was immediately eviscerated.
I was reclined on the leather sofa, murmuring something low against a redhead’s lips when I felt a shift in the room’s energy. Heads turned. My eyes followed their line of sight only to land right on the very woman I’ve been trying to avoid.
I pressed my lips into a thin line to hide my smile. I can’t say I was disappointed to see her.
Nagging thoughts chipped away at me. Is she here alone? Does she come here often? Is she meeting someone?
The thought of her coming here to fuck someone else ignited a savage heat beneath my skin. Normally, I’m not the type to get hung up on who someone might be meeting—hell, I’m here for the same reason—but seeing her here struck an uncomfortable nerve.
I plucked my drink from the table. “Excuse me,” I murmured to the woman I’d been entertaining. She shrugged and turned to face the man on her other side. Standing and rolling my shoulders, I observed from a distance as Gemma prowled through the main room toward the bar.
Then I moved.
Now I follow her at a distance through a long, shadowed corridor with adjoining doors.
Gemma sweeps her gaze across the room before settling at the bar and ordering a drink.
So, she is meeting someone.
I move past writhing bodies, couples tangled up, exploring each other freely.
The bartender pours her champagne and as I approach, it’s like she senses my presence. Her body stiffens as I brush her arm, my shirt grazing her naked skin. She swivels in her seat, her eyes meeting mine and widening.
Christ, she’s stunning. My dick stirs in my trousers.
“Hello, Gemma,” I say, my voice low and cool.
She cranes her neck, peeking over her shoulder.
“Max? What are you doing here?”
She’s surprised, but considering the nature of our working relationship, she doesn’t seem ashamed or embarrassed. A flicker of admiration sparks through me, catching me off guard.
Her lack of shame speaks volumes, and it’s not just confidence. It’s unfiltered sexuality she wears like a second skin. And hell, if that doesn’t make her ten times more fascinating.
“Judging by the establishment, I figure it’s safe to assume we’re here for the same reason.”
She frowns. “You’re meeting Tim?”
I let out a low chuckle, my fingers grazing my chin.
Tim, is it? I catalog that name for later.
“No, sweetheart. I’m not here to see Tim.”
Gemma’s eyes spark in challenge and she bats her lashes. “Then what, pray tell, are you here for?”
I focus on those plump, cherry lips, and lean in a little closer, catching the scent of jasmine that clings to her skin. My gaze drops, taking in the outline of her taut nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. Jesus Christ, I’m beyond hope of maintaining professional boundaries.
“I’m here because I’m a little… distracted.” My lips graze her ear, and she draws in a breath. “And I don’t like distractions, Gemma.”
My hand finds the exposed skin between her shoulder blades, and she shivers.
Sod it.
I’m going for broke.
“You see, there’s a woman at work. And I can’t seem to get her and her tight little skirts off my mind.”
“Oh?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Mm-hmm.”
“And what are you planning to do about it?”
“I intend to find someone to accompany me into one of those rooms.” I nod toward the hallway, a smile playing at the edge of my lips.
Her gaze follows mine before it drifts to a man on his knees before a striking brunette, his tongue and fingers working her center as she moans softly. Gemma swallows, then turns her attention back to me.
“What do you think about that?” I murmur.
Air leaves her nostrils in a sharp huff. She’s trying to restrain herself, and I’m glad to see I have the same effect on her that she has on me.
“I don’t think much, actually. It’s not like I have any interest in sleeping with you.”
“No?” I ask, tilting my head.
“No,” she says, feigning resignation. She presses her thighs together. She’s fooling absolutely no one.
“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t care if I were to find myself a beautiful woman, put her over my knee, and spank her senseless until she’s a wet, writhing mess before fucking her with my fingers?”
She’s staring at me, lips parted and eyes swimming with arousal. Her pupils dilate and her breath catches at my brashness. “No.”
I lean in. “I don’t believe you.”
She scoffs. “You’re so full of yourself. I don’t even find you attractive. And even if I did, I would never sleep with you. I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”
“Satisfaction?” I chuckle darkly. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve got it all wrong.”
I lean in closer, our noses almost touching. Her breath is soft against my lips, and I can feel the heat of her skin. “The satisfaction would be all yours.”
She swallows hard and I watch the movement in her delicate throat.
I drain my glass before placing it down on the bar. I give her a small nod before turning on my heel. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
I don’t wait for her to respond before I leave.
Tonight was meant to be an escape. Instead, I’ve thrown gasoline on an already stoked fire.
I may have pushed things too far with Gemma, but I saw the hunger in her eyes, caught the way her breath hitched when I moved closer. She was aroused. And seeing her in that environment has awakened something primal in me.
She’s managed to make me forget every reason why I shouldn’t want her. Why I went to Ruby Lounge in the first place.
I’m not used to wanting something I can’t have. It’s entitled, I know, but it’s the truth.
I’ve crossed a line with Gemma that can’t be uncrossed. There was nothing professional about that exchange.
Have I made things more complicated at work? Absolutely. There are two obvious reasons why I need to move on from this little fixation I have. One, my sister. And second, I need to ensure my focus is on the hotel launch. Two perfectly rational reasons to walk away.
I pride myself on being a rational man, but right now, logic has never felt more irrelevant.