Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(4)

Why try to pick up someone else when he was there? He’d be all she needed. He’d be…

Hot enough to banish the chill from her body.

Max caught her wrist and pulled her close. All around them, men stood in their perfect tuxedos and women smiled in their designer dresses. A high-end party. One packed with people who had too much money and too much alcohol.

His face—really not handsome, but sexy, so sexy—leaned in close to hers. At six foot three, Max was big and muscled with skin tanned a light brown. His midnight black hair curled just a little too long over the back of his collar.

The first time she’d seen him, she’d known that he would be the one for her. She’d gone into the bar, taken one look, and picked the strongest man in the place.

“You left without a damn word.”

Huh. Anger hummed in his words. She wet the lips that she’d carefully painted for tonight. Part of the mask. Normally, she didn’t give a damn about makeup.

She’d come to this party for one reason. Him. She wanted more.

“I’m here now.” She rose onto her toes and whispered the words close to his mouth.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Baby, your timing is shit.”

Sam almost smiled. Would have, if she’d been a different woman. Instead, she blinked at him, not just because she was trying to appear cool but because the contacts in her eyes were driving her crazy.

“I came to find you,” she told him and thought about kissing him. But no, not yet.

“And I f*cking looked for you.”

Now she was surprised. She’d figured that the guy would just move on to the next woman on his list.

“Come with me.” His grip on her wrist was almost bruising. Almost, because Max knew his strength. When he started walking, shouldering through the crowd, she followed because she wanted out of there.

A few moments later, his left hand slammed against the glass door, sending it swinging open, and then they were outside on the balcony. The crisp air of late autumn cooled her body. Max kicked the door shut behind them and finally, finally, the noise was gone.

It was just them.

“When you approached me in the bar, you didn’t know who the hell I was, did you?” A lamp shone down on him and revealed the faint lines near his blue eyes. The light cast a dark shadow behind him, making him seem even bigger.

Anger had thickened in his voice. What, couldn’t the guy just enjoy the sex like she had? What was the big deal? Sam forced a shrug, letting one shoulder rise and fall. Max still had her wrist, and she could feel the rough calluses on his fingertips. Not born into money, not this man. And when she’d seen him the first night in that bar, wearing his faded jeans and beat-up jacket, she hadn’t thought—

“You ran when you woke up and realized just whose bed you were in.”

She hadn’t exactly been concentrating on her surroundings when he took her home. Sam had been busy yanking off his clothes. But with the harsh light of morning, she’d seen…

The picture of his stepfather on the mantle. A man she’d met before. A man her own mother had dated once upon a time.

“You just introduced yourself as Max.” Her voice came out husky. Not deliberate that. But his eyes—such a bright blue—narrowed, and she heard the rasp of his breath.

“And you’re Samantha,” he said.

First names—that was all you were supposed to need for casual sex, right? “I am.”

“What do you want from me?” he demanded as he trapped her against the brick wall to the right of the door. So warm, oh, his flesh seemed to burn hers. She could feel the thick length of his arousal pressing against the front of her dress. A short, skimpy dress that she’d found buried in the back of her closet.

“I want more.” The truth. She could give him that much.

A growl rumbled in his throat.

“I don’t care that you’re rich.” Yes, let’s just put that out there. She hadn’t run because of his money. Hadn’t gone to him for that and hadn’t run away because of it. She’d left because the night was over. “I don’t want forever.” The fake promises of happily-ever-after wouldn’t suit her.

His fingers freed her wrist and wrapped around her waist. “What do you want?”

My life back.

She pushed her hand between their bodies and let her fingers rest over his racing heart. “I told you…. more.” Sex. Passion.

Anything to hold back the shadows. Anything to let her pretend that she was normal. Not some freak. Not someone who couldn’t even do her job anymore.

A woman this man wanted.

His left hand slid down her body. His fingers pressed just below the bottom of her dress.

Her breath caught. Yes. Here. Right here. So what if others were just a door away? She wanted this.

His rough fingertips smoothed up her thigh. Edged higher, higher, a few more inches.

“Fuck. You’re not wearing underwear.” Max’s words came out, gravel-rough, and his eyes narrowed.

She smiled at him and ignored the surge of her heart. “Problem?”

His fingers slipped between her legs. She was already wet for him. Eager and ready.

His breath blew out on a ragged sigh. Two fingers, big and long, pushed through her folds and found her sex. His fingers drove inside, knuckles-deep.