Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1 (19 page)

“I want to nail that bastard as much as you do,” Glen snapped.

Maybe more than she did, but that only gave her one more reason to keep him out of it.
“I know. I’m working with someone–”

“You know I’ll always have your back, Max.”

“I know.”

He said something to someone else in the background, then lowered his voice. “Can you trust whoever it is?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? “Yeah, I can.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

A door slammed overhead followed by running feet pounding the floor.

Max rolled her eyes. “I should go. I’ll call you when I’m back.”

“Stay safe, Max.”

“I will.” She missed the sound of Glen’s familiar voice the second the line went dead.

Max replaced the cordless handset just as Lucas barreled down the stairs. He’d wrapped a towel around his waist and water still glistened on his chest. Her stomach tightened at the picture he made standing there, arms crossed, looking too damn hot for his own good.

“Something wrong?” Max met him at the bottom of the stairs.

He paused, shrugged one shoulder casually. “I was just wondering what you did with the soap.”

She arched a brow. “The soap?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find it…” he trailed off, glancing away.

“You ran down here like your ass was on fire for soap?” She folded her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger to hide a smile.

He relaxed against the wall opposite her. “I figured I might run out of hot water waiting for you to come back up. It’s an old farmhouse, right?”

“Right,” she readily agreed, earning a speculative look from Lucas. “Old farmhouse.” She started up the stairs ahead of him, glancing back over her shoulder. “And the soap was in a dispenser right by the faucet.”

“Oh.”

She continued up the steps, half wishing she’d ducked into a closet just to see how far he would have gone in the towel. “And just so you know, if I had planned on taking off, I wouldn’t do it wearing just a robe.”

Upstairs, Lucas released a long sigh and eyed the bed thoughtfully.

No freakin’ way. “Hey, you get the hide-a-bed, remember?”

His lips curved arrogantly. “You were the one who wanted separate beds. The way I see it, you should get the hide-a-bed.”

“Arm wrestle you for it.”

He laughed, then realizing she was meant it, straightened up. “Arm wrestle. Seriously?”

She fought a grin. “Worried you can’t take me?”

His lips twitched, and he laughed harder. She crossed to the sofa table, removed the pink African violet in the center and dragged it to the middle of the room.

Setting her elbow on the polished pink surface, Max flexed her hand then crooked her finger at him. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Lucas immediately sobered. “You’re really serious.”

“Come on, tough guy, I don’t have all day. Show me what you got.”

Grinning like he had it in the bag, Lucas approached the table. He leaned down and fit his palm tightly against hers. He didn’t seem to notice when she curled her wrist the tiniest bit forward to give her an edge.

An edge quickly sacrificed when he lightly rubbed his fingers over the back of her hand. A hot, feathery sensation rippled under her skin.

Okay, so maybe this hadn’t been her best idea.

“Winner gets the bed, agreed?”

Max nodded. “On three. One, two—”

“Just one more thing,” he interrupted.

“Quit stalling.”

Lucas leaned closer, amused eyes locking on hers. “I just wanted you to know that I’m going to enjoy every inch of that king-size mattress.”

“Three.” Max leaned forward, getting her upper arm and shoulder lined up above her elbow as much as possible. The move would draw his arm a little closer to her, giving her the advantage.

For endless seconds their tightly clasped hands hovered over the center of the table. His eyes widened as though he hadn’t expected that much resistance from her. She concentrated on pushing into his hand, forcing him to widen his fingers.

Surprising him was more important than getting his arm down, and the second he got cocky again, Max reached her free hand under the table and ripped his towel off.

He instinctively released her hand, groping for the falling material.

Waving the towel like a victory flag, she grinned. “I win.”

Lucas spun around, treating her to a fantastic view of his ass, and seized a pillow off the bed. He fired it right at her head.

A little distracted by how aroused he was, she was too slow to block the fuchsia-colored missile. The pillow caught her square between the eyes.

“You cheated.”

Max threw the pillow back. “You forfeited, so I win. And just so you know, I’m going to enjoy every inch of that king-size mattress.”

“Over my dead body,” Lucas growled.

Dead wasn’t the word that came to mind when she ran her gaze over his body, lingering on his smooth chest and sliding much lower.

“Max.” The rough edge to his voice gave her half a second to brace herself.

He threw a second pillow, and then lunged for her.

Laughing, she darted around the sofa table, determined to make it to the bathroom. She would have made it too, except the stupid robe she wore snagged on the corner of the table.

Lucas caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the bed. She scrambled to get up, but he quickly trapped her beneath him, pinning her arms overhead.

“I said, you cheated.”

“So?” She tried to wiggle out from under him.

He shifted, applying more weight to keep her still, and his arousal nudged her inner thigh through her robe. His gaze snapped to hers, and he moved again, inching higher to rub against the center of her.

Fiery threads coiled tight low in her belly. “Not fair.” She absently tugged at his grip on her wrists, feeling herself sink a little deeper into the mattress.

“You weren’t worried about that a few minutes ago.” He didn’t look away from her as he bent his head and slid his mouth over hers.

Fireworks exploded in her stomach, sailing outward until her whole body was in a slow burn. Need, pure and unrestrained flared through her. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

He caught her lower lip between his teeth and slowly pulled it into his mouth. Between one long drugging kiss and the next, he released her hands and traced her jaw with his thumb.

Moaning, she dragged her hands up his back, holding him close as his tender caress pushed her heart into a full-out, knock-down pace that would have taken her to the floor if she wasn’t already on her back.

So much for keeping her distance and pretending last night had been a one-time thing. What had even possessed her to believe she could put the whole thing out of her head when every nerve ending begged for his touch?

His tongue swept across hers possessively, and the slight tremble that slid up her backbone turned into a full-body shiver when his hand moved beneath her robe and found her breast.

Max arched against him, deciding she didn’t care why he could make her feel so damn good. She just didn’t want him to stop.

With a teasing bite, he left her mouth to trace a sensuous path down her throat. He laved at the soft hollow, sucking at her skin in deep, hungry pulls. She breathed deep, hoping a little more oxygen would make it easier to believe he wasn’t taking a piece of her inside himself with every taste.

His thumb brushed her nipple and her back bowed off the bed. He groaned and slid his body against hers, settling hard and heavy against her sex. Once more his mouth returned to hers, and the deep stroke of his tongue heated her insides with a delicious, meltdown intensity.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this again,” she murmured.

“
You
thought we weren’t going to do this.” He pushed her robe apart and bent to slowly suck her nipple into his mouth. “I can’t keep my hands off you long enough to
not
do this.”

“I drive you crazy wanting me, do I?”

Lucas lifted his head and the fire in his eyes softened. “You have no idea.”

Afraid to read too much into that, she dragged her palm along his rough jaw. He turned his face into her hand and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to its center. The slow, wet heat was both carnal and inexplicably tender, and whatever Lucas saw on her face made him glance away.

“Max,” he began, his tone cryptic.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by Miss Maddy’s voice. “I brought you two a little snack.”

Lucas rolled away from her and sat up.

Choosing to believe she hadn’t somehow revealed just how much his touch undid her on every single level, she sat up and tugged her robe closed. She stared at his back for another beat, wondering what he’d been about to say, then tried for a smile.

“I think I’ll get the door so you don’t give the poor woman a heart attack.” She reached down and handed him the towel, then stood just as another brisk knock came.

“Coming,” Max called out, unable to stop herself from watching Lucas drape the towel around his waist and disappear into the bathroom.

Running her hands over her face and hoping she didn’t look as warm as she felt, she opened the door. Miss Maddy stepped inside carrying a tray weighed down with two thick wedges of chocolate cake covered in inch-thick frosting and two tall glasses of milk.

She shuffled past Max and set the tray on the sofa table without commenting on the room’s new arrangement. “Settling in?”

“We are, thank you.” Her attention strayed to the cake, and her stomach rumbled at the thought of devouring her piece in one bite.

“It’s an old secret family recipe,” she confided.

“I’m sure they’re delicious.” Wondering if the milk was cold enough to bring her internal temperature down, Max picked up the closest glass and took a long drink.

Miss Maddy arranged the napkins and forks on the table. “Chocolate is an aphrodisiac, you know.”

Max choked on her milk, which quickly turned into a coughing fit when she couldn’t catch her breath.

Lucas poked his head in the room. “Max?”

“Oh, she’s fine,” Miss Maddy answered, slapping Max’s back like she had a chicken bone lodged in her throat.

Still draped in just the towel, Lucas ventured farther into the room.

“I’m—fine, really,” Max managed between coughs, inching away from Miss Maddy’s cast-iron fists. “Really, I’m good now.”

The old woman dusted her hands together and winked at Max. “Don’t forget what I said now.” The door shut firmly behind her.

Lucas arched a brow. “What was that all about?”

“She brought cake.” Bad enough she couldn’t seem to get sex off her mind to begin with, she didn’t need to share Miss Maddy’s wisdom with the man at the center of every sinful thought running wild in her head.

“I’m starving.” Instead of grabbing up his own piece he leaned forward and stole the bite off the end of her fork.

“Hey.”

His mischievous smile tugged at her heart, and she picked up her plate, ordering herself to focus on the dessert and not the six-foot-plus male standing inches away.

She took a bite, giving a little sigh of pleasure as her taste buds drowned in the rich chocolate flavor. She broke off another piece with her fork and all but inhaled it.

“What?” She paused as she finished off the last bite.

“Hold still a sec.” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, sliding it back and forth. “You had some frosting there.”

The last bite of cake seemed to stick in her throat. “Thanks.”

His hand dropped back to his side and he pivoted around. “I’m going to finish my shower. Try not to eat all the cake.”

“I was raised not to make promises I can’t keep.”

He laughed and closed the bathroom door, leaving her with the cake, something that wouldn’t come close to satisfying her real appetite.

Max was asleep on her side by the time he finished his shower and emerged from the bathroom. Her face was relaxed, peaceful. He leaned in the doorway, watching her for awhile. Every now and then a ghost of a smile would curve her lips.

Was she dreaming about him, about the same insanely wild and hot things he was driving himself crazy thinking about? Things like her body curled around him, on top of him, her spine arching as she took him deep inside her. Or all that silky hair teasing the inside of his thigh as she went down on him.

Yeah, that one in particular was burning a hole right through the back of his head and making him contemplate another cold shower.

Christ. She wasn’t even his type. He preferred to date easygoing women who had their lives figured out, who had steady, predictable non-life-threatening jobs. Predictable worked for him. Predictable with no strings and zero complications worked the best.

There wasn’t a predictable bone in Maxine Walker’s body. If she felt the least bit threatened, she’d run and do her best to ditch him in the process. Which meant he had no business screwing around with her and giving her another reason to bolt. Except they weren’t just screwing around, were they?

He hadn’t paid the least bit of attention to his predictable, no strings, zero complications policy where Max was concerned, and the worst part was he couldn’t drum up even a little bit of regret.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushed aside the strand of black hair on her cheek. She was so much more beautiful than he’d first realized, more…everything. Predictable was suddenly looking boring and unsatisfying next to the woman lying next to him.

Reluctant to awaken her, Lucas carefully stretched out beside her. She murmured something, then rolled against him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the combination of fruity soap and Max’s own natural scent. Draping one arm across her waist, he drew her closer, relaxing more than he had in days.

As his eyes drifted shut he couldn’t recall the last time simply holding a woman while she slept had felt so right.

Darkness greeted Lucas when he opened his eyes awhile later. The clock on the bedside table read five fifty p.m.

He turned on the light, and nudged Max’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

She groaned, but she didn’t open her eyes.