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“Nah, what time is it?” I hear him move around.
“Ten after midnight… Are you alone?” I place the call on speaker to look at the pictures again.
“What?” His voice cuts through the silence in my office.
“You heard me, are you alone?”
"Are you fucking serious right now, Parker?" His laughter is gruff and lacks any resemblance of humor.
“As a heart attack.” I stand picking up my phone from the desk. “I’m on my way.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” His voice is cold and exact. “You call five hours late trying to check my whereabouts.”
“It didn’t take long for you to find a willing substitute.”
“What are you talking about? Please clue me in on the shit going on in your head.”
“You and Stephanie.” A cold knot forms in my stomach. I grab my purse and keys heading for the door.
"What do you have, spies, watching me?"
“No, I have friends concerned about seeing my man cozied up with her.”
"I call you nonstop all day, and you don't stop to respond to a single message, but you hear about me having a conversation with Stephanie, and you finally pick up the phone."
My heart drops stunned by his words. “I got—”
“Tied up. The problem is you’re always tied up. Showing houses, Platinum Prestige, babysitting, guy SOS calls."
“I will not choose between my life and you.” I’m yelling to match pace with him.
“If that’s all you got out of this conversation, I’ll talk with you later. Good night Parker.”
“Max…”
I stop on the sidewalk outside my office. I lock the doors and minutes later I ring the doorbell to his suite. The evidence stacked against me doesn't look good. But this is my life, and he didn't explain why he was having dinner with Stephanie if he was supposedly waiting around for me.
Max opens the door, and I want to quiet the storm raging in his eyes. His chest is bare, and his boxers hang low on his hips. He doesn't say a word.
I close the door behind us, dropping my purse and keys on the table. He falls to the couch, his hair is wild, and I stop waiting, for what I don’t know.
I don’t believe he has an interest in Stephanie, but it doesn't lessen the sting of seeing the pictures. I want him inside me. It could be the green-eyed monster or a slight acknowledgment that he’s trying, and I still feel the need to run.
I’m going to lose him again.
I can't let that happen. I remove my blouse, and I toss my bra at him. Then I reach for my pants, closing the distance between us.
“Help me.”
“You can’t cover every issue with sex Parker.”
I stand between his outstretched legs and lower my zipper. I run my fingers through his hair, bringing him to me. He kisses my stomach, running his hands over my ass and slowly pulling down my pants and my panties. I step out, one leg at a time.
His hot breath brushing against my thighs, my heat, makes me wet. A large palm to my stomach is the only command I receive as I sit on the table. He places a foot on either side of his body, and I'm stretched wide, ready, for him.
His eyes cloud in a sexual haze, lowering to his knees. He teases me while holding me in place with the questions in his eyes. I know I'm failing at repairing this relationship, and I can't seem to help myself.
His fingers part my folds and a bold swipe of his tongue erases everything but the man giving absolute pleasure. I arch into him, crying out. Then he enters me. Our bodies join as one, skin to skin. Hard strokes rock the table, and I lift my hips meeting each thrust matching his hunger.
