Chapter Twelve
F uck my life.
Fuck Max Dread and his stupid dick-measuring contest. Fuck Kingston for not stepping in. And fuck Camelot Court for making this moment possible.
And for good measure, let’s throw in one for Landon Scott. I didn’t know what exactly he’d done in this scenario, but I had plenty of reasons to shout out a fuck you to him, too.
Everybody gets a fuck you.
I was basically Oprah.
And I was also freaking out because the lingerie I’d snatched from the gift basket was even more risqué than I thought. Not to mention that the item Max had so casually tossed me terrified me as much as it intrigued me.
But no way in hell was I putting that near my body while Max Dread was on a fucking power trip.
He’d have better luck shoving it up his ass before I let him order me to put something in mine.
Even if it was small.
And pretty.
I glared at the purple jewel winking at me from the packaging. “Wear that, too.”
I flipped the package over so the words butt plug for beginners weren’t staring me in the face.
“Asshole.”
I needed to expand my curse word repertoire and figure out a way out of this.
The high-cut cerulean thong was—of course—completely see-through. Secured between my butt cheeks, no amount of tugging removed the scrap of fabric from my ass crack. And the matching bra shared the thong’s transparency affliction.
If it weren’t for the ends of my hair reaching down to my breasts, my nips would’ve been fully on display.
And while, rationally, I acknowledged Max hadn’t known that when he ordered me to put the damn thing on, he could’ve made an educated guess. I’d snatched the set assuming it would expose me in every way possible.
Because what was the point in degrading women to nothing more than sex objects if The Quest only did it halfway?
Principle of the matter aside, though…It was beautiful. And I looked hot as fuck in it. So, if anything, Max’s bullshit was about to backfire on him.
Especially when he copped an attitude.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on his stupid, smug face when I told him how sorry I was that I’d kept him waiting and added a sultry Master to the end of it.
Eat your fucking heart out, Max Dread.
Two could play his games.
I fluffed my hair a little, blotted my lips, and checked the time. Two hours to shower, exfoliate, dry my hair, and lounge around the bathroom seemed like long enough to make him wait.
Hopefully, he was nice and annoyed by now.
The thinner his patience, the thinner his self-control would be. And the sooner I’d shove the dose of his own medicine down his throat.
I growled to hype myself up.
It felt good.
I did it again.
Hm. Maybe I understood why guys did that so much. It made me feel all-powerful and extra confident.
I’d already had plenty of time to shore up my restraint and refresh Gia’s positive affirmations in my mind. Adding in the growl, I planned to enjoy every minute while Max squirmed.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I immediately rolled my eyes.
The cabin was almost completely dark.
Max must’ve come into the room while I primped, and turned off all the lights. He’d opened the bedroom doors, so the red-orange glow from the fireplace filled the space.
Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, I didn’t see Max right away. I frowned, searching the kitchen and out on the patio as I came around the back of the couch.
A soft gasp escaped me.
He’d moved the coffee table and the gift basket items off to the side by the fireplace. Except for the unopened bottle of wine and two empty glasses, which rested beside him on the floor in front of the armchair. He’d thrown down a blanket and pulled out some board games and a deck of cards.
No doubt he would’ve made them dirty games, bringing to mind one of my favorite small-town romance novels, in which the main characters played a spicy round of strip Uno.
But while that move had worked for Mel and Holden, Max would not have gotten as lucky. Not from a game of strip Battleship or strip Sorry.
Strip Monopoly?
Maybe.
If we weren’t already in a bigger game. One I had to win.
Still, having the games out instead of his dick? It was a sweet gesture after his earlier move.
What could I say? The bar was currently set low.
But the sweetest part of the scene in front of me?
Max had fallen asleep.
His long legs, clad in gray sweatpants, stretched out in front of him. Arms crossed over his chest, his head had fallen forward, and somehow, it didn’t surprise me one bit that he could sleep like that.
Strands of hair hung over his forehead, and I had the strongest urge to brush them back. But I kept my hand clenched in a fist at my side.
Déjà vu from the last time I’d done that with Landon, and the memories that followed, slammed into me like a truck.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Pain hit me hard and fast.
Max and Landon weren’t the same. I realized that.
And I wasn’t, either. The girl who would’ve reached out to touch him? She was gone. Someone wiser, or maybe just more jaded, stood in her place.
But still, Max Dread managed to weaken my knees.
He blinked slowly awake, eyes glowing in the firelight as he took in his surroundings and found me standing there. His soft and sleepy smile made my heart race.
“Hi.” He swallowed, his whisper husky and greeting unfiltered. “What took you so long, gorgeous?”
My eyebrows rose, cheeks warming as I fought to stop him from affecting me. But butterflies took flight in my belly and lodged in my throat. So that when I gave the bratty response I’d planned, it came out breathy instead. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Master.”
His eyes widened as my lips parted. Palms pressed into the floor, he sat up farther. He forced a deep swallow, raking his gaze down my body.
“Fuck, Princess.”
I shivered, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself, and held them out instead.
“This is what you wanted, right?”
A cocksure grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly.”
Rolling my eyes, I moved to sit down on the couch. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Wait.” He put his hand up to stop me. “Don’t sit down yet.”
I arched a brow. “Is that an order?”
“No. I mean, yes, if you’re going to be a brat and sit down anyway. Just hold on a minute. I want to say something.”
“Something I need to be standing in lingerie for?”
He clapped his hand over his eyes. “Happy now?”
I huffed, but that did take care of the problem. “Fine. What did you want to say?”
“I shouldn’t have done that earlier. With Kingston, that guy just…really grinds my fucking gears, you know?”
Like most things, I didn’t actually know why they hated each other, but I understood the sentiment. “Yeah, so?”
He frowned, his mouth twisting as he chose his words carefully. “You’re not a pawn I can use to get under their skin. Maybe…Maybe that’s what I told myself you were in the beginning. But you’re not, and I shouldn’t have used you like that. To get a rise out of him. It wasn’t…respectful. And I’m sorry.”
A smile tugged at my lips, and I couldn’t fight it.
Whether he’d ever admit it or not, Max not only heard what Kingston said, but he took it to heart.
“Damn.”
He uncovered his eyes, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Nothing. I just can’t believe I…” I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. “Didn’t record that. When I have my phone back, can you say it again? I feel like that needs to be on the record, you know?”
“Har, har, Princess.”
I grinned, pulling an answering smile from him. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Yeah, well. I mean it. Not going to lie and say I didn’t second-guess the change of heart when you were taking your sweet time in the bathroom, but...I’m trying.” His dark gaze softened, imploring me to believe him. “Not to be an asshole, you know?”
“I see that,” I told him honestly. “This has been…different from how I imagined it would go.”
“Things are different.” He rubbed the back of his head. “For me, at least. They’re different.”
A part of me wanted to admit things were different for me, too. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.
Nodding to show I’d heard him, I opted for deflection. “So, is that why you’ve been taking it easy on me?”
“Who said I’ve been taking it easy on you?”
I shot him a pointed look. “Naked breakfast? An oh-so-innocent come in and one seduction attempt in the kitchen? You’re telling me that’s not you taking it easy on me?”
He huffed a laugh. “Alright, fine. You caught me.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know?”
Damn my stupid, stubborn, prideful mouth.
Arching an eyebrow, he ran his gaze over my body again. Goose bumps prickled my skin. And I prayed he couldn’t see them from across the room.
He smirked. “Sure I don’t.”
“I’m serious!” I scoffed. “I can take it. There’s no way I’m giving in to you, Max. And I’m not going to have you lording it over my head that I only made it through because you didn’t give me a hard time. I came here to prove I could do this.”
He had the audacity to laugh it off.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lifted my chin.
Like a fucking idiot.
“Go ahead.” I challenged him. “I’m serious. Do your worst, Max Dread.”
His eyes darkened—I had no idea how that was possible—and the shift in his gaze filled me with the appropriate amount of dread. A wolfish smile curved his lips, and I felt like prey. I full-on shivered at the thought of him eating me for dinner.
I imagined him telling me to run so he could chase after me. Promising if he caught me, I was his. And from what I’d seen the last few days, Max Dread didn’t play with his food.
He devoured it.
And I did not have the appropriate fearful response to that thought.
I swallowed. “While you think it over, I’m going to sit down. If that’s okay with you, Master?”
Again, I tried to say the words sarcastically, but my voice box had clearly been hardwired to filter that word through some kind of reverse smoke screen.
And Max, whose brain I’d quite possibly short-circuited with the word, didn’t respond initially.
He coughed lightly and cleared his throat. Pushing to sit up higher, he nodded at a spot by the couch. Farther away from him than I expected, but that was probably best.
With the thoughts running through my head, I didn’t need to push my luck with that proximity.
Leaning back against the couch, I stretched out my legs like his. My toes nearly brushed his feet, so I crossed them instead, placing my hands in my lap for coverage.
“What’ll it be, then? Hot oil or the rack?”
Gah. I needed to stop speaking. Even my movie quotes were too sexual. And weirdly, all princess related.
Max wet his lips. “As intriguing as that sounds, I have a better idea.”
“Okay…” I eyed him warily. “I want to reiterate the ground rules, though.”
“Fair enough.”
“You can’t cross the line unless I ask you to, and while you can order me to do things, you can’t order me to do anything sexual to you. No touching, kissing, licking, biting. Choose your verbiage, but no hands or mouths where a bathing suit covers. Right? And no er?—”
I stumbled over the word, the explanation calling to mind the first time I heard it. I’d underestimated how difficult it would be, then. But I’d still outlasted Landon.
My expectations for Max Dread’s worst had to be closer to the mark if my first thought was primal play, but that did nothing to ease my mind.
“No pleasure points?” He offered in lieu of my silence. “I can’t order you to touch my hot spots? Anywhere that might get my dick hard?” Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a pillow off the chair behind him and plopped it on his lap. “There. A barrier to make you feel better.”
My eyes narrowed on the pillow. It caused nothing but curiosity over what he hid under there. The opposite of safe thoughts. Especially when Max shifted his hips and seated the pillow over himself more comfortably.
“Does that cover everything?”
“Yep,” I blurted. “That covers everything.”
His dark chuckle resonated through me. “Oh, Princess…Just remember, you asked for this.”
I shivered. “Bring it on, Dread.”
“I learned an interesting lesson today. About how words have meaning. And while we established that I can’t touch you or order you to touch me…you left one thing on the table.”
Oh, fuck.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Run those hands all over your body, and show me what you do when you’re alone. When your body is desperate for release and you don’t have anyone or anything to get you there.”
He ran his eyes over every inch of my body, and if the heat of his stare hadn’t stoked the flames of my arousal, his next words would have lit the match.
“Do whatever you need to do to bring yourself to the edge, and then, don’t stop until you push yourself over it. I want you crying out as you come, riding those pretty fingers until they’re drenched with your release.”
My breathing hitched, desire coiling low in my belly as he issued his commands.
But he wasn’t done.
“You can’t move from that spot until you come.” He smirked, closing the only loophole I’d found before pinning me with his dark gaze. “And the whole time you’re touching yourself? I want you to imagine your hands are mine.”