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Anna liked to play dirty. Max had to admit, he didn’t play fair, either.
“I assume your parents are still okay with calling off the wedding?”
He studied her for a long moment before answering. Candlelight danced over her skin, and her eyes sparkled. She was made for this medium, but truth is, Max was pretty sure he would be obsessed with her in any light. He was starting to realize that no matter what, she was going to control his every thought.
“Max?”
She was giving him the little frown that told him she knew his mind was drifting.
“I talked to Mom this morning again. She didn’t say anything, but I have a feeling that she’s relieved.”
“She didn’t like Cynthia?”
He smiled. “You know Mom. She would never say anything openly, but it seemed as if she was cool with the decision. The worry is Cynthia’s father.”
She cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”
This is good. Talking about his ex-finance cooled some of his need for Anna. Not much, but at least a little bit.
“Her father is kind of an asshole. Really bad temper, thinks children, women, and dogs should be seen and not heard.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“You’ve never met him?”
She shook her head. That made sense. They did operate in the same social circles, but Anna had never hung with the country club group. Her parents had their own business, but he had an idea that Anna’s father would not want to have anything to do with Myers. They owned a landscaping business and would have no reason to interact with Myers. Chandler Industries had a long history of working with Myers Transportation that went back decades, before Cynthia’s father took over.
“I’m worried about his temper though. I know Cynthia is scared of him.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think that he would hurt her?”
* * *
After dinner,they settled in the living room to watch the new Jakob Wulf flick on Netflix. She snuggled closer as Max slid his arm across her shoulders. He played with the sleeve of her dress, his fingers tickling her arm. His fingers were callused. She knew it was because he liked to work with wood and do projects around the house when he got a chance. With each brush against her skin, a jolt of electricity shot through her. He was playing some kind of game that she was losing. If she didn’t get a handle on what he was doing, she would be on her knees begging him for sex. His fingers slid over her arm again. This time she couldn’t suppress the shudder.
Fine. If that’s what he wanted, so be it. Inwardly, she declared war and decided to intensify this battle. She rested her hand on the top of his leg. A moment later, she began to massage the inside of his thigh. Instantly, his muscles stiffened under her touch. She smiled to herself as she inched her fingers up his leg to the very top of his thigh. His breathing accelerated and deepened.
Just to be evil, she pretended interest in the movie while she moved her fingers in lazy circles within inches of his cock. Without looking, she knew he was hard. Just thinking about it sent another wave of heat rolling through her, urging her to move her hand higher. The need to touch him, to unzip his pants and take his cock in her hand, in her mouth…
She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the need screaming through her. She wanted so badly to touch Max, to have him touch her, caress her skin, but her desire to teach him a lesson was more important.
As his arm slid from her shoulder to her waist, she held her breath. A moment later, his fingers inched up to the underside of her breast. Lightly, too lightly for her own satisfaction, he massaged her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. The action drew the material tighter across her nipples. Ever so slightly, he pulled on her dress, allowing the fabric to show the definite outline of her hardened nipple.
She gritted her teeth and moved her hand higher, barely touching his obvious erection. His hand stilled. Over and over, she brushed the back of her fingers against his cock. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him swallow, hard. Even through the thick denim, she could feel the outline of his hardened shaft. To push him over the edge, she took one finger and, starting at the top, slowly slid down his cock.
She only got halfway down when he groaned and grabbed her hand. A minute later, she was turned upside down as he threw her over his shoulder and stood.
“Max!”
He smacked her ass. “Shut up. I swear, woman, you just don’t know when to give up.”
He strode down the hall to his bedroom. Anticipation snaked through her. She really shouldn’t be turned-on by this Neanderthal attitude, but she couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through her, causing her nipples to tighten further as more liquid gushed between the lips of her sex. There was definitely something exciting about a man who attacked in a good way.
A moment later, he dropped her on the bed. For the second time in as many days, he’d carried her, then thrown her on a bed like some kind of caveman. As a twenty-first-century woman, she should really be appalled. But there was no way to ignore the fact that every nerve ending in her body tingled. She craved Max just the way he was—dominating and aggressive.
Standing before her, he rested his hands on his hips, his nostrils flaring with each breath he took. Her gaze traveled down his body, and she licked her lips when she saw his erection straining against his jeans. He stepped forward, and before she knew what he was doing, he grabbed the bottom of her dress and slid it up her body, allowing his fingers to brush her skin as he did. When he had it off her, he tossed it on the floor behind him. An instant later, he was stripping off his shirt, then practically ripping off his jeans. Her breath caught in the back of her throat when he was finally, gloriously, naked. Golden skin, defined muscle, Max had no competition in her mind. Before he could tackle her, she slipped from the bed and dropped to her knees in front of him.
* * *
