Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)

Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2) by Elizabeth Hayley


Dedicated to all of our fans who waited [not so patiently] for this book to be released. Remember, happy endings are always more satisfying if you’re teased a little bit first.



Chapter 1: Max


I swirled the amber liquid around in the tumbler, my eyes mesmerized by the movement of the fluid. Ignoring the techno music behind me as I gazed into the glass, I willed myself not to think of how the ice had diluted the Jack Daniels just enough so that the color perfectly matched the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. It’d been nearly five months since I’d seen her. And they had been the longest five months of my life.

The light brush of a delicate shoulder made contact with my bicep, pulling me from my trance. I inhaled deeply, gearing myself up to don the mask of a happy playboy. This didn’t use to be a mask for me. It used to be me. Not anymore.

Sliding my eyes to the left, a smirk played on my lips. I noticeably appraised my visitor’s body, letting my eyes roam over her ample, firm breasts that were accentuated by a black, low-cut halter top. Then they traveled lower, raking over her flat stomach and firm ass that was hidden by tight jeans as she leaned forward on the bar. Mmm, she'll definitely do.

Noticing that she had my attention, she turned her body toward me, lifting one hand to her hip while the other remained resting on the bar. “Oh my God. It is you.” Her smile grew as her eyes drank me in, much like I had done to her. She clearly liked what she saw as she bit her lower lip and pushed her chest out a little farther. “I’m Jenna and I’m a huge fan.”

Aren’t they all? I thought dryly. My mind flashed back to that day in the airport nine months ago. She hadn’t had a damn clue who I was, nor had she cared. Though she couldn't hide how I affected her. The way her breathing had hitched when she first saw me. How her eyes had followed me through security. How her body had reacted to my dirty words. And even after she had given in to me, she was still able to shock the shit out of me by wanting nothing to do with me afterwards. It had been hot as hell. “Nice to meet you, Jenna. I’m Max.” I kept my eyes trained on hers, my face serious, as I extended my hand toward her.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Jenna purred as she slid her palm against mine.

I released her fingers quickly and turned back toward the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?” I asked as I sought out the bartender. I need to get drunker. Now.

“Sure,” she replied, clearly perplexed by my sudden shift in behavior. Jenna sat down on the stool beside me, keeping her body turned slightly in my direction.

I made eye contact with the bartender and put up my index finger, beckoning him over.

“Mr. Samson, another round?” he asked.

“Yeah. And,” I gestured toward Jenna, “whatever she’s having.”

“Coming right up.”

I took another deep breath, wishing I had been a little closer to alcohol oblivion before Jenna had made her move. Meaningless conversation while sober was not my idea of a good time. She clearly knew what I was after, and she was also clearly after the same thing. Her body language and flirtatious response made that obvious. But I wasn’t in this to enjoy her company. I was in it to forget. And I couldn’t do that sober.

***

Two hours later I was drunkenly fumbling with my keys, trying to unlock my door while keeping my lips on Jenna’s. I finally turned the lock, pushing the door open as I backed her through the doorway. I threw my keys in the general direction of my hall table and lowered my hands to cup her ass and pull her into my pulsing hard-on.

My dogs ran to greet me, but I ignored them as my lips made their way down Jenna’s neck and we clumsily moved toward the stairs. And as I began pulling her top over her head, I silently thanked God I was as wasted as I was. Otherwise, I would have remembered how I had done this before: ripping another girl’s clothes from her body as my mouth owned every inch of her skin on our way up the stairs to my bedroom. I may have even remembered how I had lowered that girl onto the steps, unable to keep my hands off of her long enough to complete the journey. And I definitely would have remembered the feeling of her finally becoming mine, only to realize that she didn’t want me after all. Yeah, it was definitely better to not remember any of that shit.

I was almost tempted to lift Jenna and carry her up the stairs, but as I swayed slightly, I thought better of it. Instead, I pulled my mouth away, grabbed her hand, and led her toward my room. Once there, I pulled Jenna back to me, her hands flying up to my chest to regain her balance. My lips owned hers as my fingers worked the button on her jeans. I pushed them to the floor and then reached up to pull my blue polo shirt over my head. Kicking off my shoes, I undid my jeans quickly, yanking them down to reveal my pulsing erection.

Jenna immediately fell to her knees and took my long, hard length in her hand. I struggled to resist thrusting against her warm palm as I felt myself get harder at her touch. She began to stroke me slowly, teasingly, lifting her eyes to mine slightly, and licking her lips. The action made me conscious of my desire to have her tongue swirling around my dick instead. I nestled my hand in her honey-colored hair as she brought her face closer to my cock. At last, she flicked her tongue over my tip before she allowed my hardness to push past her lips and plunge into her warm mouth. God, this feels good. She moaned as she continued to suck, which caused a vibration to radiate through me.