Love's Gamble (10 page)

Pru froze, going stiff in his arms. But it didn’t matter. He kept them moving, making both of their bodies sway to the music as he asked, “Are you locking up because you remember or because you don’t?”

“I don’t remember,” she told him, not to be mean or to bring him down a peg, but because it was the truth.

“Then let me give you a recap. We danced like this and then I got us a room, so that you could sleep it off—you see, Pru, occasionally I can be a gentleman. But in this particular case you made being a gentleman very hard for me, because as I was tucking you in, you were begging me to do you. Your words. Not mine. ‘Just do me, Max,’ you said. ‘Let’s keep the party going.’”

His words echoed in her ear, causing her entire body to heat with something she might have been able to attribute to embarrassment, if its origin point hadn’t been between her legs.

“You grabbed my hand and forced me to touch you here.”

His hand found her breast, rolling her nipple through the bikini’s top and causing her to gasp. But Max continued on, his voice casual and low. “And you begged me to take you, Pru.”

He continued to torture her nipple, rolling it through the fabric, causing liquid heat to pool between her legs. Then he cupped her roughly with his hand, squeezing the lips of her mound together through the blue bikini bottom.

Pru’s back melted into his chest and somewhere in the distance a woman moaned. Was it her? She didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. There were too many sensations going on in her body now, making her mind fuzzy, making her pant.

Once you go Max, you never go back.

“Truth or dare?” she somehow managed to squeeze out.

A pause. Then Max’s voice was back in her ear. “Truth.”

“How many other women have you played this game with?” she demanded. “How many other women have you decided to ruin?”

She needed something. Needed something that would convince even the old Pru that giving in to Max wasn’t a remotely good idea.

But his answer came harsh and unexpected. “Only you,” he said. “I’ve never set out to intentionally ruin any woman but you, because no one else has ever pissed me off as badly as you do.”

He punctuated this statement by moving his hand up from her mound. But this turned out to be only a momentary reprieve. Soon it was back on her belly, slipping inside her high-waisted bikini, down, down until Max found what he was looking for. And pushed two fingers inside it, brushing her clitoris with the ball of his hand as he did so.

On purpose? She had no idea. Her body bucked all the same, her throat releasing a loud involuntary moan.

Two fingers began pumping into her with slow, knowing strokes. “Was this what Wedding Night Pru wanted when she begged me to touch her?”

It was. She was sure of it, but he hadn’t said “truth or dare,” so she didn’t have to answer that, she reminded herself, as her head fell into her chest, her whole body slumping because of what he was doing to her.

But Max kept her on her feet. “Don’t worry, Pru, I’ve got you. Just give me another one of those pretty moans to let me know you’re still with me.”

She did moan. Moaned hard, but she couldn’t be sure if her answer was voluntary, because it felt as if Max’s fingers were pulling the broken sound out of her.

Her moan seemed to be the answer he needed, because he went to work after that, pressing the ball of his palm into her clit. This added an overwhelming pressure to his hand action that felt both delicious and cruel. In a way that made her want to beg him to stop and implore him to keep going. Not that it mattered. At that point she couldn’t have formed words if she tried. She was too busy biting back a scream.

The orgasm, when it came a few minutes later, took her in one greedy swallow, sending her into a vortex of pleasure before it spit her back out, weak as a bowl of jelly.

Now it really was Max holding her up. Keeping her tight against his chest as his fingers continued to pump into her afterglow.

“Pru, Pru, Pru,” he crooned in her ear. “You are very wet now. And extremely tight. How long has it been?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Didn’t have to, she reminded herself as her head lolled from side to side. She didn’t have to do anything now but close her eyes and let the old Pru take over. Let the old Pru get everything she’d apparently begged for from Max.

But suddenly he stopped, pulling his fingers out of her. “Truth or dare?” he said quietly.

Pru blinked, confused and frustrated. Despite the orgasm he’d given her, she was still throbbing down below. Because of him. Because of what he’d done to her. And she no longer wanted to play this game.

“Why? Why do we have to do it this way? Can’t you just take what you want?” she asked him. Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize that he didn’t have to answer her questions either. She hadn’t said “truth or dare.” Also, it wasn’t her turn.

“Truth or dare?” he said again. This time the three words were hot and hard in her ear.

“Truth,” she spit out, both her past and present selves agreeing that they didn’t have the guts to take another dare from Max Benton at this juncture. And maybe he would ask a different question this time.

But he didn’t.

“How long has it been?” The question was an angry demand.

One she didn’t understand. Why was he asking her this? Why did he care?

“Truth,” he repeated when she didn’t immediately answer. “How long has it been?”

“A long time,” she whispered.

“What do you qualify as a long time?” he asked.

Anger mixed in with the lust, confusing her, making it so she didn’t know what to do. Was he accusing her of being a slut, after all the women he’d run through? Trying to make her prove she was worthy of him or something? She had no idea.

She averted her eyes, even though he was standing behind her and couldn’t see her face as she answered. “Like, over five years. Is that long enough to prove whatever you’re looking to prove?” she asked.

However, letting him know that she’d actually been as prudish as her name suggested for over half a decade didn’t seem to make Max happy.

His entire body stiffened, and he cursed. Once, twice, then a third time as he brought his forehead to rest against the top of her head. “Listen, sweetheart,” he told her, his voice ragged, “you’re very wet. But I need you even wetter, because...”

He broke off with another curse, and he finally let her out of the clinch. Turning her around to face him, before dipping his head so that they were at eye level. The wicked gleam was gone now, replaced by a brutal honesty that sent a frisson of fear through her belly.

“I’m not going to be able to hold back with you,” he told her. “I’m going to take you, and it’s going to be rough. So I need you to lie back on the bed and let me make you come at least once more, so I can make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you. Let me take you with my mouth first. Please.”

Pru’s heart was beating fast now. Too fast. So fast, it didn’t seem healthy.

Run!
a small voice whispered inside her.
Don’t let him.

She tensed up, preparing to bolt. But then...she didn’t.

And that was when Pru knew that the old version of herself had fully taken charge. Because instead of running screaming from the room, Pru pulled away from Max...and climbed into his bed.

The old Pru didn’t care how fast her heart was beating. She wanted this. She wanted Max. And it was the old Pru who lifted her eyes to Max. Waiting to see what he would do next.

Chapter 12

“Y
ou were thinking about running, weren’t you?” Max asked, meeting her gaze head-on.

Apparently he wasn’t the type to back down either.

Pru didn’t lie. “Yeah, I was.”

He started stripping out of his clothes, ditching the suit jacket and white dress shirt, pushing the pants down and kicking off the shoes. All without dropping her gaze.

“But you didn’t,” he said, coming to stand at the edge of the bed, in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. All traces of playful Max were gone now, as well as the slightly desperate man who’d pleaded with her to let him get her off with his mouth.

This switch did not make the old Pru change her mind. And her eyes wandered down his body to the only piece of clothing left on it. Not to be titillating but because she couldn’t help but look at what was encased there, straining to get out.

“No, I didn’t,” she answered, her voice little more than a murmur.

Max followed her gaze and gave her a thin smile. “Maybe you should have.”

Before the threat could fully sink in, he had her by the ankles, pulling on them so hard, Pru fell backward, legs flying in the air. Making it easy for him to reach forward and jerk the bikini bottom off her hips and down her legs in one savage yank.

Then he was on his knees between her legs, shoving them wide as his tongue dived deep inside her, his nose pressing into her clit.

Pru bucked, even worse than she had when he’d touched her there. His mouth felt exactly like an invasion, and he didn’t let up, just pressed her back down onto the bed. Then his fingers got in on the action, parting her lips, opening her even wider for his complete and total takeover.

He owned her with his mouth, devouring her and tormenting her with his fingers until she fell apart. Her hips lifted in the air as a second climax ripped through her.

“Exactly what you wanted,” came his voice, gruff and smug. Then he was above her, his long and lean body stretching toward the nightstand.

He had his boxer briefs down and the condom dealt with before she’d even finished coming down from her high.

Then he was between her legs, long and thick. Pushing in.

Pru’s breath caught.

And Max cursed. “So tight,” he said, his voice strained to the point that she couldn’t tell if this was a compliment or a complaint.

But then he answered her question, capturing her eyes again and shaking his head at her as if she was the naughtiest girl he’d ever met. “I’m trying not to lose it with you, but you’re making it hard for me, Pru.”

He began moving inside her, his strokes measured, giving her time to adjust to his size as he went in, deeper and deeper. “But you like making things hard for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

His strokes became harder, sharper, filling her up in a way that felt like a punishment delivered inside a Trojan horse of pleasure. “You liked making me wait for this like a dog, hoping to get his treat. But now I’ve got you. Exactly where I want you. Exactly where you’ve wanted me to be, since the first time we kissed in New Orleans.”

Max was everywhere now, heavy body on top of her, heavy erection inside of her, heavy voice in her ear, making nasty accusations. The scent of their combined arousal filled up her nose, acrid and obscene, not allowing her to deny his words or anything else that was currently happening.

Yes, she wanted this. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t?

But Max wasn’t satisfied with her nonanswer. “Talk to me,” he growled. “Let me know how much you want this. How good this feels for you. Give me a reason to hold back.”

He pushed into her so hard on the last sentence, the stroke hit her clit, causing her to cry out at the unexpected extra pang of sharp pleasure.

“I do want this,” she gasped helplessly, clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure of that last stroke vibrated through her.

Then she showed him. Really showed him the real Pru. “But I don’t want you to hold back.”

Max stopped pumping. Both his nose and his eyes flared with shock.

Pru felt like a live wire, her entire body pulsing with a dangerous sexual current. She met his gaze. Met it as the old Pru would have and said it again. “I want you. I don’t want you to hold back.”

Max became an animal on top of her then. Wild and crazed, riding her so hard the line between reward and punishment became impossibly thin.

When the orgasm came, it blasted all the way through her. A nuclear bomb, taking out everything in its path. Her voice, her vision, her hearing. Every single breath of air in her lungs.

And when she came down, what felt like years later, she could hear the sound of her phone’s timer chirping in the background. And Max muttering something in her ear.

If not for the fact that he was now collapsed on top of her and no longer moving, she would have had no idea that he’d come, too.

“What...?” she croaked, feeling like a bomb victim. “What did you say?”

Her voice seemed to bring him back from whatever edge he’d been on.

He abruptly stopped muttering. Pulled out and raised up off her, getting out of bed. A few moments later, her phone stopped chirping.

She tried to follow his movements, but her eyes wouldn’t cooperate. Her whole body felt sluggish, like something that had been put through a wringer.

Still, her curiosity held on, made her ask again, “What did you say?” even as her eyes fluttered close.

“Nothing,” came Max’s answer from far away in the room. Clipped and hard. “I didn’t say anything, Pru. Go to sleep.”

She followed his command, not necessarily because she wanted to, but because sleep already had her in its clingy grip.

Chapter 13

N
ot enough.

Those were the two words that had appeared inside his head last night after he completely lost it with Pru. The words that kept on repeating inside his head when his orgasm hit him like an electric shock wave. Causing him to lock up and lose all sense of time and place until he finally came down, mumbling the words out loud.

Not enough, not enough, not enough...

What the hell did that even mean? He’d gotten what he wanted from Pru. It should have been enough. More than enough. He should already be bored by now, coming up with plans to put some distance between him and Pru, so that sharing a room for the next few days wouldn’t become awkward.

Instead the words had been stuck on a loop in his head for the past thirty-two hours. Making it hard for him to think of anything more than Pru. The taste of her sweet essence, the sound of her sweet moans, the feel of her sweet body receiving him, allowing him to go as hard as he liked. Telling him that was what she wanted.

He had ended up putting at least some distance between him and Pru. Leaving their room early and coming back super late, just so he could leave her alone for the thirty-six hours she had with the wallets and phones he’d procured for her.

He would be giving the wallets and phones back to the other execs at their breakfast meeting today. Then he’d have to wait until lunch for another hour with Pru.

It was 5:00 a.m. now, which meant seven more hours until he could have her again. Max seriously wasn’t sure he could wait that long. If anything, the two words seemed even louder now inside his head.

Not enough, not enough, not enough...

“Max, did you hear anything I just said?”

Max looked back over his shoulder at Cole, who was holding up the other end of the canoe they were carrying toward the water.

“Nope,” he admitted. “But I’m guessing it was something boring about business.”

“Something boring about canoes, actually. I was just asking how much you weigh, because usually you want the heavier person in the front. I think that’s me, but in this case, I should probably be in the back. That’s the best place to guide.”

“I know how to row, Cole. Just because I wasn’t on the rowing team at our boarding school like you doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself in a canoe.”

“Maybe not, but it does mean that you don’t understand the value of working as a team, or taking guidance for the greater good. This is supposed to be a team-building exercise, remember?”

Max did remember. That was just one of the reasons he considered this entire canoeing excursion not worth even a minute of his time. Along with the fact that he’d had to get up at the butt crack of dawn in order to participate in this useless exercise. But it was either this or a morning spent in the room with Pru, watching her work on the case, when all he wanted to do was cash in another wallet before her thirty-six hours were up.

Not enough...

And though Pru had worn a relatively demure khaki dress the day before, Max had spent all day embroiled in fantasies about unfastening each button and devouring whatever he found underneath.

So he signed up for the stupid canoe trip. Him, along with nearly every other executive at the retreat. They were either eager to suck up to Cole or needed a way to handle the smartphone withdrawal Max and Cole were putting them through, supposedly in order to become closer as a team.

However, when Cole had arrived at the boathouse where all of the lodge’s canoes were stored, instead of choosing one of his sycophant executives to share his canoe, he’d chosen Max.

And now here was Cole, already trying to boss him around before they were even in the water. They were only a couple of years apart in age, but Cole continued to act as if Max was the little brother he used to be. The damaged kid who’d arrived at boarding school needing his big brother to take him under his wing.

Things only got worse when they were out on the water, with Cole playing commander in the back of the canoe, telling him which side to paddle on. As if he was a child, without instinct or sense.

“Look, I’m not into the whole taking-orders thing,” Max told his brother when they were a few good yards in front of the rest of the Benton executives. “So if you need that to make this team-building torture exercise of yours enjoyable, then we should probably paddle back to the rest of the group, so that you can switch out row buddies. Where’s Gus? I’m sure he’d love to have you at his back, telling him what to do with his paddle.”

Cole, as usual, chose to ignore Max’s not so thinly veiled insults. “Gus is back at the lodge,” he answered, his voice chilly. “Harrison can’t come because of his sprained ankle, and Gus asked if they could use the time to put together another stab at their Benton Las Vegas presentation. That’s what I like about Gus. He’s not lazy. In fact, he always goes the extra mile to show his commitment to the Benton Group.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, he does a better job of being a Benton than your actual brother does. That’s why you love him. You and Granddad, both,” Max answered.

Behind him the sound of Cole’s steady rowing came to a sudden stop. “What do mean about Granddad loving Gus?” he asked.

Max looked at him over his shoulder. “Granddad handpicked him for the Benton New Orleans. You didn’t know that?”

Cole shook his head. “Is this something Pru dug up?”

“Yeah, that, and his hardscrabble backstory. Born with a congenital heart defect. Abandoned by his mom at the hospital. Dad raises him only to up and die when he’s three, so the New Orleans foster-care system basically raises him. But his congenital heart defect pretty much makes him unadoptable. But eventually he gets a new heart, and he goes on to win one of the Benton Foundation scholarships to attend Cornell, even though he’s never stayed in a hotel himself. Seriously, you didn’t know any of this? Granddad didn’t tell you anything about this guy?”

A frown came over Cole’s face. “No, Granddad never mentioned him. The only part I knew was that he’d gone to Cornell on a Benton scholarship. But a large number of our management recruits can make that claim.”

Now it was Max’s turn to frown. Hearing Gus’s sad backstory had actually curbed a little of the animosity Max felt toward the guy. Even after he’d spent nearly all of last night’s dinner hour in the common room flirting with Pru. But the fact that Cole had no idea about any of Gus’s background raised several red flags.

“Weird. Most of the execs I’ve met would have made sure everyone knew if they had a backstory like that. They would have put it in their corporate bio.”

Cole agreed with a nod, adding, “All Gus’s bio says is that he grew up in Louisiana, went to Cornell and was general manager of the Benton New Orleans by the time he was thirty. That’s impressive, but even more so, given his background. Maybe he’s ashamed of it?”

“Maybe...” Max said, his head tilting as he brought the paddle back down to take another swipe at the water.

“But you don’t think so,” his brother said, reading his mind.

Max thought about the way Gus had finagled himself into the seat on the other side of Pru during dinner the night before. He had used just about every weapon in his charm arsenal to keep her attention off Max and on him. They’d laughed over mutual friends at the Benton Las Vegas and the fact that spending most of their adult lives working for a Benton had ensured that they would never ever gamble.

Gus had not only managed to drop his vice president title several times, but had also alluded to what he would do for the Benton Revue now that he had it. He’d told Pru so much about himself that Max had found himself having to tangle with another bout of dark jealousy. Gus had obviously been trying to make it known to Pru and anyone else within earshot how much he had in common with her. And how much Max, who’d pretty much spent most of his adult life hotel hopping in the hottest party cities in the world, didn’t.

Yet, Gus hadn’t mentioned any of the personal details Pru had dug up on him.

“I’m just saying he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t know how to properly toot his own horn. And not mentioning that Granddad recruited him—that’s kind of shady.”

The fact that Cole didn’t jump to his golden boy’s defense meant that he thought so, too. He picked up the paddle and said, “The next time you see Pru, tell her good work and to keep digging on Gus.”

Max nodded, though he already knew that next time he saw Pru, they wouldn’t be talking.