Read Colorado 01 The Gamble Online
Authors: Kristen Ashley
Tags: #Romance, #Mystery, #contemporary romance, #murder, #murder mystery
“Right here,” he replied and put the chip in
his mouth.
“About that job –”
He didn’t swallow before he said, “Yeah,
about that.” He finished chewing, swallowed and turned to me again
to state, “It’s happenin’.”
“Max –”
“Quiet, Nina and listen to me, yeah?”
I had his attention, his full, somber
attention, and I nodded.
“George and Trevor have explained to Bitsy
that Curt has contracts he can’t renege on or Bitsy’s gonna be
fucked. I’ll see them carried through. Then Bitsy wants the
business downsized. She wasn’t a big fan of Curt’s work either. I
got some ideas that’ll keep some boys employed and we got contracts
that’ll stretch out a good long while. The guys who want to move
on’ll have time to make arrangements. I ain’t gonna live Curt’s
dream. I’m gonna make it so Bitsy’s taken care of and then it
becomes somethin’ that I can do to keep a roof over our heads, food
in our stomachs and I can sleep at night. That work for you?”
I was staring at him being reminded,
acutely, that that thing eating me up inside was very,
very
gone when I whispered,
“Charlie.”
His brows drew together and he asked,
“What?”
I swallowed, drew in a soft breath, smiled
then turned my attention to my plate again, saying softly,
“Charlie. You remind me of him.” I grabbed a loaded chip and looked
back at Max. “He was able to make big problems little ones too. He
was really good at it.” I shoved the chip in my mouth, chewed,
swallowed and concluded, “Like you.”
I was preparing another chip with some beef,
beans and cheese that had slopped onto the plate when I heard Max
command, “Come here.”
My head came up and I asked, “Sorry?”
Then I saw the expression on his face and I
started wheezing again.
“Babe, come here.”
“I am here,” I breathed.
“Closer,” he ordered.
I moved my plate to the side and leaned in
closer. Max did the same thing, hooked a hand behind my neck and
pulled me even closer. Then he kissed me hard, closed-mouthed and
short.
When his mouth released mine, his hand
didn’t move.
“You know, you can be nice too,” he told me
quietly.
I didn’t answer.
“I like it, babe.”
“Good,” I whispered, he grinned, let me go
and went back to his nachos.
“How tired are you?” he asked after
swallowing another loaded chip.
“
I woke up tired but
it’s okay, it’s nothing fifteen days of
sleep won’t cure.”
Max chuckled then, still grinning,
suggested, “Another movie night.”
I really liked that idea so I agreed,
“Sounds good.”
“I get to pick the movie this time.”
“Okay,” I said, twisting to get my beer.
“Babe?” he called as I twisted back.
“Yes?”
“Still scared?”
I saw his eyes were dancing and I knew he
knew the answer to his question.
“A little,” I kind of fibbed. I was but also
I wasn’t.
Max scooped up his last chip, muttering,
“Another week, you’ll be good.”
“Arrogant,” I muttered back then took a sip
of my beer.
When I dropped my hand, I looked at Max to
see him chewing but doing it while smiling.
* * * * *
“Jesus, Duchess, you movin’ in there?” Max’s
impatient voice sounded through the closed bathroom door and I
stared at my black-eyed reflection in the mirror, trying not to
hyperventilate.
I’d had an idea after nachos and during
dinner clean up and now, putting it into action, I was thinking it
wasn’t such a good idea.
“Nina!” Max called.
“I’ll be right out!” I called back and took
in a deep breath.
So I was getting less and less scared about
a lot of things Max and me.
Which meant, to have a healthy
relationship (or, healthi
er
), I
needed to be able to do this kind of thing.
I let out the breath, squared my shoulders,
went to the back of the door, put on my robe, tied it tight at my
waist and pulled open the door.
Max was lying on his back on the bed,
shoulders to the headboard, a new beer in one hand, his other hand
behind his head, the pillows bunched up behind his back, my beer on
his nightstand.
I stopped a foot outside the bathroom door,
his eyes travelled the length of me and came back to my face.
I was in my robe with bare feet and legs, he
was still fully dressed, therefore, he asked, “You gonna watch a
movie or you goin’ to sleep?”
I moved to my right, stepped back and leaned
against the wall.
Okay, maybe I couldn’t do this.
Max studied me then turned to his side,
taking his hand from behind his head to hold his torso up on an
elbow and he called, “Honey, come here.”
My feet moved me automatically toward the
bed but they did this slowly. Max watched the whole time and I
stopped by the side of the bed, stood stock-still and stared down
at him. He leaned to put his beer on the nightstand, moved back and
looked up at me.
“Jesus, Duchess, what happened in the
bathroom?”
I pulled in a deep breath then before all
courage fled, I yanked at the belt of my robe, shrugged it off my
shoulders so it pooled around my feet on the floor and stood in
front of him wearing nothing but a pair of Brazilian cut, white
lace panties and my gold-sequined camisole.
Max’s eyes moved to my body.
Then his body moved and before I could blink
I was flying through the air. I landed on my back in the bed and
Max rolled over me.
Holding his torso away, he ran his hand down
my side, the calluses on his fingers snagging at the sequins, his
eyes glued to my body. Then his head came up, he looked at me and
his beautiful eyes were unmistakably hungry.
“Baby,” his voice was thick, “you got this
on, you better not be tired.”
My hand came up to curl around his neck
under his ear, my fingers sliding into his amazing hair.
Then I whispered, “I think I got my second
wind.”
His hand was at the edge of the camisole and
it dipped under then slid up my skin and Max’s eyes held mine as I
shivered at his touch.
I put pressure at his neck as my other arm
pushed under his body to curl around his waist and I demanded
softly, “Kiss me, Max.”
Max, unlike me, didn’t have to be told
twice.
* * * * *
After, we watched the movie, me pulling on
my nightie, undies and robe, Max yanking on a pair of pajama
bottoms.
I lay cradled against his body, my head
pillowed by his hard bicep, his forearm curled across my chest and
his other arm draped around my waist as I watched a lot of things
blow up, a lot of gunfire and a lot of car chases.
Then, I lost my second wind (this could be
due to the three orgasms I’d had, yes
three
, Max really liked the camisole and took his time,
expending a lot of effort, proving that) and felt my body start to
settle further into Max and closer to sleep.
“Am I losin’ you, baby?” Max whispered into
my ear from behind and I nodded, so he offered, “I’ll turn off the
movie.”
“No, sweetheart, you finish it, I can sleep
through it.”
Then I turned to face him, my back to the
TV, and cuddled closer, pressing my cheek to his chest, twining my
legs with his and my arm around his waist.
Max’s arm tightened around me, his other
hand sifting through my hair.
This felt good and dreamland beckoned.
“Nina, honey?” Max called.
“Mm?”
“You happy?”
I turned my face and kissed his pectoral
then I turned it back and pressed my cheek into his chest.
Something exploded on the TV but Max
muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Mm,” I agreed.
I felt Max move slightly then I felt his
lips at the hair on top of my head, he kissed me there then he
moved back.
“’Night darlin’.”
I was close to the edge, sleep’s silken web
weaving around me, therefore I didn’t guard my words or even think
about them when I mumbled, “’Night Max” I gave a small sigh and
snuggled closer before whispering, “Love you.”
Then I fell instantly into such a deep
sleep, I didn’t feel Max’s powerful arms convulse around me.
Manning Up
“Tell me,” Max growled against my lips as
his hands at my hips ground me down on his cock.
“
Darling,” I whispered, not knowing what he
wanted me to tell him but willing to tell him whatever he wanted to
hear because I was so very, very
close.
“Tell me, baby,” he ordered, still growling,
letting me move up then using his hands to slam me back down.
It was morning, Max woke with his hands
then his mouth and now I was riding him but he was sitting up, my
hands were in his hair, my head tipped down, my lips on his and
nothing was in my head but the beauty of the sensations gathering
between my legs.
“What, Max,” I breathed. “What do you
want?”
“Tell me you love me.”
My closed eyes flew open and my fingers
clenched in his hair. His eyes were open too and they were heated,
hungry and intense.
“Max,” I whispered.
“Tell me, baby, before you come.”
“Max –” I moved faster, riding him harder, I
was urged by the sensations at the same time he demanded it with
his strong hands.
“You love me,” he stated.
Oh God, it was happening, all of it,
everything.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Say it,” he ordered.
He held my eyes and I said it. “I love you,
Max.”
His arms swept around me, holding me tight
and I watched his eyes get more heated, hungrier and so intense it
felt like they were burning into mine.
“Come for me, baby,” he demanded.
“Anything, darling,” I breathed and then it
hit me, my head flew back and I gladly did as I was told.
* * * * *
I wandered out of the bathroom, my eyes on
Max, his eyes on me. When I got close to his side of the bed, he
whisked the covers back, exposing the fullness of all things Wonder
Max and my soul sighed. Then I put a knee to the bed and straddled
him in preparation for moving over him but he caught my hips and
stayed my movement, pulling me down to him.
I didn’t mind therefore I settled in,
forehead to his neck, torso pressed to his, knees to his sides and
his fingers started to move randomly on the skin of my back and
behind.
I lay there surrounded by everything Max,
his body, his arms, his bed, his home thinking that I’d told him I
loved him. I’d known him two weeks and I told him I loved him.
He’d demanded I say it, of course. And it
was true, of course. And he should know, obviously. And I
wanted
him to know.
That still didn’t mean I wasn’t freaking
out because he should know and I wanted him to know but I wasn’t
sure I should have told him
now.
“You know, I do too,” I heard his gravelly
voice rumble quietly.
“What?” I asked his throat.
He didn’t answer and when his silence lasted
a long time, I lifted my head and looked down at his face to see he
looked sated and serious.
“What do I know?” I queried.
His fingers stopped their roaming, one arm
locked around my waist, the other hand slid up my spine and into my
hair.
His amazing gray eyes didn’t leave mine when
he answered gently, “I do too. I said it the other day and I meant
it.” His fingers tensed against my scalp. “I’m in love with you,
Duchess.”
I stared at him feeling the tears welling in
my eyes because the feelings surging through my system were too
much for them not to leak out somehow.
“Really?” I whispered as one tear escaped
and slid down the skin of my cheek as Max’s eyes watched it mark
its path.
Then his hand moved out of my hair to cup my
jaw, his thumb sweeping my cheek to dry my tear. Then his warm,
sweet gaze came back to mine.
“Really,” he whispered back.
I felt another tear escape and then I bent
my head and touched my mouth to his. When our lips connected, Max’s
head slanted, his fingers sifted back into my hair to tilt my head
the other way and he rolled so he was on top. Through this, his
lips didn’t touch mine, they fused with mine, kissing me hard,
long, deep, wet and lastly, but most importantly, beautiful.
His kiss was a promise and it was a gift,
both the best I’d ever received.
When he lifted his head he cupped my face
with his hand and his thumb traced circles at my temple.
“Are we crazy?” I asked him.
“What?” he asked back, lips twitching.
“Are we crazy? Is this crazy? We barely know
each other.”
All amusement left his face when his eyes
locked on mine and he said, “Love isn’t sane, darlin’.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted softly.
“You’re my first.”
I watched with no small amount of
fascination as his eyes grew dark and again intense and heated,
before he growled, “Thank fuck.”
Then he was kissing me again, his mouth and
tongue working wonders, his hands roaming, my legs circled his
hips, my fingers moved on the skin and muscle of his back and I
liked it all so much, I barely heard the phone ring.
But Max’s head came up when we both heard
Harry’s voice fill the loft.
“Max, buddy, it’s Harry. I heard what
happened to Nina and… uh… I called to –”
I heard him say no more because Max
unfortunately stopped what he was doing, reached out a long arm,
yanked the phone out of its charger, beeped it on and put it to his
ear.
“
Harry,” I watched him say into the phone
then I watched him listen and then I watched him go on. “No, you
can’t talk to Nina but you can listen to me. Nina and I hadn’t had
the chance to talk about Anna and what you said was fucked up and
it upset her. It upset her enough that shit went down that led to
her gettin’ worked over by Damon. He caught her alone, freaked her
right the fuck out and damn near broke her nose
and
her fuckin’ ribs. That’s on you,
buddy.
All that shit’s on
you.”