FADE INTO YOU

Part One of the FADE series

KATE DAWES

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Copyright © 2012 by Kate Dawes

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written consent of the Author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

~~~

ONE

I had been living and working in Los Angeles for only three weeks when I met the man who would change everything for me. I’d heard his name before, but only during the last few weeks of working in and around Hollywood.

As a regular girl, fresh out of Ohio State University, a Midwestern transplant to Tinsel Town, I’d never heard of Max Dalton before. Maybe I would have, if I’d paid attention to movie credits and caught his name on the screen. He was a writer and producer. I plead guilty—actually ignorant—to not knowing who he was before I began seeing his name on documents and hearing his name around the office.

Before walking into his office, I’d never seen him, though. I accompanied my boss, Kevin Anderson, to the meeting. Kevin was trying to get one of our agency’s clients cast in a new movie, and Max Dalton was the producer.

Max Dalton’s appearance wouldn’t have been such a surprise if I’d bothered to Google him and do a little research before the meeting. But I hadn’t. Chalk it up to my being new, but it was something that just hadn’t occurred to me. My focus was the presentation of our client.

Most of the hour we were in Max Dalton’s office, I sat there staring at him, unable to focus on the matter at hand. Max Dalton stood about six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. It wasn’t a bodybuilder’s physique, much to my delight, but he did have that V-shape thing going on. I suppose the clothing he wore didn’t hurt, either. Dark gray slacks, and a white button-down shirt with the first two or three buttons open, revealing smooth and evenly tanned skin.

His hair was just long enough to get messed up if a certain girl had the chance to run her fingers through it. At the beginning of the meeting it appeared to be slicked back and I wondered if he was one of those guys who overdo it with the gel. But as the hour progressed, it started to dry, and I figured maybe he’d just gotten out of the shower in the private bathroom in his office. Maybe he’d been working out before the meeting, and in the thirty minutes I’d spent in the waiting room, he was in that bathroom, in the shower, soaping up….

See? That’s why I was so distracted. And, honestly, it kind of pissed me off. I had come to this town to work, establish myself, start my life. I couldn’t afford to be so lacking in self-control in any area of life, let alone with men. I’d had my share of man troubles, and when I arrived in L.A., I’d promised myself that I’d say goodbye to all that for a long, long time.

Work. I was here to work. I kept trying to tell myself that, repeating it like some mantra over and over and over…

“What do you think, Ms. Rowland?”

It would have been bad enough if those words had come out of Kevin’s mouth. But they came out of Max’s. Either way, though, there I was sitting next to my boss and across from a Hollywood mogul, caught totally off guard because I hadn’t been paying attention.

I was already looking at Max, so refocusing was just a matter of moving my gaze from his lips to his eyes. I’d already noticed that they appeared to be a mixture of gray and light blue, but this time I saw that one eyebrow was raised to punctuate the question he had directed at me.

I didn’t have the first clue about the context of the question. It was a prime opportunity for me to appear completely idiotic and useless. But there was no way I was going to let that happen.

Without missing a beat I said, “With all due respect, Mr. Dalton, I appreciate being asked for my input, but Mr. Anderson is the pro here.” I said it with a smile and a glance toward Kevin Anderson.

Luckily, Kevin picked up where I left off and launched into his closing argument in favor of our client.

Saved by a little wit. It doesn’t happen often for me, but when it does, it always seems to happen when it really counts.

This is the part where you’d think I would have gotten control of myself and paid attention to what was being said. But as Kevin spoke, I stared at Max. Staring was okay; after all, he could have thought I was simply watching his reaction to Kevin’s spiel. But that wasn’t at all what I was doing.

I’m a Midwestern girl. Fairly normal. Pretty tame, actually. I’m not a virgin, and I’ve had my share of sex. I’ve never watched pornography, though, which made it even more strange that such images were in my head. They were like the flash scenes in a movie, the kind where the light flickers and increases and you catch a couple of seconds of the action. In this case, the action was me, facedown, with Max behind me…the kind of fucking that rips the sheets right off the bed.

The few times he glanced at me, my paranoia worried that he could see what I was thinking. Crazy, I know.

When the meeting was over, Max rose and came around the desk. He shook Kevin’s hand, placing his other hand on the back of Kevin’s arm. I’d learned in a Psych class that it was a show of power and dominance. I wasn’t surprised to see it in a Hollywood meeting.

Max looked at me. “Ms. Rowland, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dalton.”

I reached to offer and handshake as he was saying, “Please call me Max.”

His hand was large and strong, and he gave a firm yet warm handshake. If I wanted to be melodramatic about it, I would say a tiny bolt of electricity jumped between our hands. But nothing like that happened. The smooth firmness and inviting warmth of his hand was thrilling enough.

“Okay, Max. Please call me Olivia.”

He smiled, said, “Olivia it is,” and we all turned toward the doors.

Kevin went through first, stepping out into the reception area, where he quickly struck up a conversation with Max’s secretary. “It seems like we talk on the phone almost every day…”

Their conversation faded out as I felt Max’s hand at the small of my back. He leaned over my shoulder, his mouth close to my ear. “Nice dodge in there.”

I turned my head. “What do you mean?”

“When I asked what you thought. Very nicely handled, Olivia.”

“I don’t—” I started to lie but he interrupted me.

“It’s okay.” He laughed. “Really. I’m just giving you a hard time. We’ll talk soon, I’m sure.”

I felt the blood rush to my face. Great. Blushing in a professional setting.

Kevin faced us again and thanked Max once more for the meeting and I couldn’t have been happier that we were on our way out of there.

The ride back to the office from the studio was a short one. As Kevin drove he kept saying he thought the meeting went well and that Jacqueline Mathers, our actress client, was almost sure to get the part and that meant a big deal to the agency.

At a stop light he looked over at me. “By the way, that was great what you did in there. I appreciate it.”

“What’s that?”

“The way you deferred to me. I mean, you’re familiar enough with the issue to comment, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought you along at all, but…well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I’d been a little worried that he knew the real reason I had deferred to him. Max had sure picked up on it. But Kevin thought I was just being a good assistant and letting the boss handle the matter. Good enough.

The rest of the day went well, though much of it was consumed with thoughts about Max Dalton. I was sure I’d never before seen such a perfect example of what people mean when they say a man can be beautiful.

I’d always thought it a feminine adjective, and I suppose there were famous men I’d seen who would have been worthy of it, but it had never occurred to me before I saw Max. I couldn’t help but think he should have been in the movies rather than the behind-the-scenes guy. Why was that? Had he pursued acting and not liked it? Failed?

Toward the end of the day I used my phone to Google his name. I felt a little paranoid about getting caught doing some research on him after the meeting—something I should have done well before.

The first result that came up was his IMDb listing. There was one picture of him, taken at a red carpet event. It wasn’t a close-up and didn’t do him justice at all. I scrolled down to the section that listed his credits: three as a writer, nine as producer. No acting or directing credits.

I would have been in even greater awe of him during the meeting had I known then that he had written one of my favorite movies. He’d even been nominated for an Oscar.

Whoa. This guy was a bigger deal than I realized, and I suddenly felt like a fool for not knowing. Although, Kevin hadn’t made a point of it. All he had told me was that this was one of the most important meetings he’d probably have all year. I figured it was just because we were pitching Jaqueline Mathers. Now I knew it was also because we were meeting with a true Hollywood big shot.

I scrolled back up to the top of the page and saw his birth date. He was only twenty-nine. It had to be unusual to reach his level of success at such a young age. He had seemed easy-going, friendly, and not snobbish or hung up on himself. Especially with the light-hearted comment he made to me as I was leaving his office.

By the end of the day I was completely enthralled with Max Dalton, and I had no idea how much pleasure and pain it would bring me in the coming months.

As I left the office my nerves were on edge. Not only because of Max, but because I was so new to my job, new to the entire business of Hollywood, and already I was a major part of what could be a major deal with an up and coming star and a blockbuster movie. The waiting game was on—Kevin had told me we’d probably know something next week.

To ease my anxiety, I put the top down on my new Volkswagen Beetle and let the California air blow through my hair as I drove home. The car was my first big purchase in life. I had pooled all my college graduation money for the down payment. It was a great ride all the way from Ohio to California.

When I got home I opened the door to find Krystal straddling a guy on our couch.

Krystal Sherman was two years older than me, and had been in California for three years now. She was really more my sister Grace’s friend, but when she found out I was headed to southern California she offered to let me stay there as long as I needed.

She was one of the few people who knew the whole truth about why I wanted to get the hell out of Ohio. Most people thought it was just about wanting a fresh start after college. That’s also what most people thought about my breaking up with Chris Cooper after three years of serious dating.

What most people didn’t know was that during our senior year at Ohio State, Chris cheated on me with no less than three girls. That alone was grounds for dumping him, but there was more—things I didn’t even tell my parents. The only people who knew the whole story were my sister Grace, and Krystal.

Krystal had come to Hollywood to pursue an acting career, but like so many others, she was a full-time waitress while she waited to be discovered. To her credit, she hadn’t asked me to do her any favors and try to get Kevin’s agency to rep her. She seemed determined to do it on her own merit.

When she heard the door open, she turned around. “Oh, hey.”

She didn’t move off the guy. They were both clothed, and I felt bad that I had walked in while something was just getting started. Sure, she could have been doing this in her room, but it was her condo, so I couldn’t complain.

“Hey, sorry.” I turned my back to them as I closed the door.

“No worries.”

I turned and started to walk through the den and to my bedroom, but Krystal stopped me.

“This is Marco,” she said, looking from me to him.

I smiled. “Hi.”

He looked back at me through heavily-lidded eyes. “What’s up?”

I looked back at Krystal, who had rested her head on his shoulder, still straddling him. “I’ll just be in my room.”

She slid off him. “No, no, it’s okay. We were just figuring out what to do for dinner.”

I’d had moments of indecision before about where to eat, but had never thought of trying to answer the question by straddling a cute guy. Maybe I was missing out.

“Any ideas?” she said.

“You’re off tonight?”

“Oh, yeah. They had too many servers scheduled and called and asked me if I wanted off.”

That had happened at least five times in the three weeks since I’d arrived in L.A. I wondered how Krystal afforded to take so much time off, but it was none of my business.

Marco wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation. His eyes were on Krystal. More specifically, on her boobs, which were straining against the tight t-shirt she was wearing. I got the feeling he didn’t really care about dinner at the moment.

We finally decided to go to a little sushi place. Unfortunately, Marco joined us. I wanted to tell Krystal all about Max. But I didn’t want to bring it up with Marco there. I didn’t know him. In fact, I’d never heard Krystal talk about him, either.

After dinner, she said she was going back to his place and would probably be home late.

On the way home, I wondered what I’d do with the rest of my night. I could call Grace, but it was too soon to tell my sister about Max. She would only have been negative about it, telling me to be careful around “those Hollywood types,” as she and my parents like to say.

I spent the rest of the evening watching a few of Max’s movies on Netflix and wondering when, or even if, I’d see him again.

TWO

I didn’t see Max the next week. I did talk to him once when Kevin asked me to get him on the line.

Jacqueline called every day to ask if we’d heard anything about her getting the part in the movie. Kevin assured her that the wait time was normal and by Thursday he had instructed me to tell her he was in a meeting, which meant I had to take over the comforting and reassuring.

One night, after dinner and over a glass of wine, I told Krystal about having met Max.

“Max Dalton?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s that?”

I laughed. “I didn’t know who he was, either, until I looked it up. And this was after I met him.” I told her the whole story about the meeting.

“Oh, yeah. I know his movies. Hell yeah. I just didn’t know the name.”

We were in the majority. According to Kevin, and confirmed by my own experience, people rarely know the writers and producers, save for a few big names.

“And,” I said, “the worst part is, he’s hot as hell.”

“Why is that the worst part?”

“Because I have to work with him and I can’t focus when I’m around him or when he’s on the phone.”

Krystal swallowed the last of her drink, and shook her head. “You’re in Hollywood, honey. Get ready to be smitten with a lot of people.”

Krystal called the office on Friday afternoon and said, “Let’s go to Vegas!”

“What? When?”

“This weekend.”

I wasn’t up for a trip anywhere, let alone to Vegas. “For what?”

“For what? It’s Vegas, baby! We don’t need a reason beyond that. But if you really do need a reason, I think it would be a great way to celebrate your first month out here working in the biz.”

Krystal was the only person I knew who called it “the biz.” It made me wonder if she was trying too hard. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t been able to get representation.

I looked at the clock on my computer—4:16. “That sounds like fun, but I don’t think I have any Vegas attire, first of all, and—”

“Okay, you’re looking for excuses not to go, but you’re going.”

“Says who?”

Her voice echoed, like she’d walked into the bathroom. “Says me. It’s part of initiation. Come on. It’s just two days. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

A few seconds of silence passed, then I thought of something. “Who’s going?”

“Just me and you.”

I was glad to hear that her new friend Marco wasn’t going. There was something about that guy I didn’t like, something about the way he looked at Krystal, and the way he looked at me when Krystal left the room. He didn’t talk much, but he sure liked to stare a lot. He was unsettling, to say the least. I couldn’t figure out what she saw in him, and I hadn’t asked. It was none of my business.

She pressed on making her case. “I’ll pay for the gas and all the other stuff. It’s all on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“All right,” I said. “When do you want to leave?”

By nine o’clock that night, we were two hours into the roughly four-hour drive to Vegas. We had great travel weather, and little traffic, although we did get stuck behind an RV for a while somewhere in Nevada that slowed us down.

“So how’s Grace?” Krystal asked at one point during the drive.

It made me realize I hadn’t talked to my sister in over a week, a record for us. I was just so busy and so preoccupied I hadn’t gotten around to calling her. Of course, she hadn’t called me, either, so I didn’t feel guilty. Two-way streets, and all that.

“I guess she’s okay,” I said.

“You guess?”

I explained how I hadn’t talked to Grace lately.

Krystal reached to turn the stereo down. “I think she’d like it here.”

“Ha. I doubt it.”

“I know. I just mean, if she gave it a chance. If she gave anything a chance.”

This was my sister we were talking about, and Krystal’s tone had a little too much sarcastic negativity to it, so I just shrugged and said, “Yeah.”

What she was referring to was my sister having taken the same route as my mother. Married young, two kids, stay-at-home mom, no apparent ambition outside of those things. Honestly, I can respect that. I just wish Grace had given the world a look before she settled down. She was only two years older than me, but she acted like she was thirty years older. She acted like my mom. And seeing as how I already had two parents who’d like to make every life decision for me, the last thing I needed was a third one.

And, really, she should have known that. The pressure I’d felt to become Mrs. Chris Cooper was like a slow, constant suffocation. Several times after I broke up with him, my mom had pushed me so close to spilling the whole truth about what Chris had done. What stopped me from doing it was the sense that it would have only made them even more protective of me. And with the town being as small as it was, there was every chance in the world that my story would get around, and people wouldn’t believe me. Instead, they’d rally behind Chris Cooper, all –American church-going guy and former quarterback of the two-time champion football team at our high school. My only choice was to keep my head down and just leave.

“Oh, well,” Krystal was saying. “Her loss.”

“Yeah.”

That conversation wouldn’t have gotten far even if I hadn’t stopped it, because it wasn’t long before we saw the lights of Vegas twinkling in the distance—almost beckoning people to come there. I felt the pull of excitement.

We got to our hotel, handed the keys to the valet, and walked into what I can only describe as sensory overload.

Lights. Music. Gaming machines clinking and humming and buzzing and ringing. People everywhere. People looking sad. People looking elated. People looking like they were in a trance. I was definitely part of the latter group.

We went straight up to our room, freshened up, and got dressed for our first night in Vegas. I had on my favorite little black dress, black heels, silver hoop earrings, and a silver necklace with a Gehry orchid pendant—a gift from my mother.

“I don’t look like a hooker, do I?” Krystal said.

I poked my head out of the bathroom, putting on my earrings. “Hell, no, girl. You look sexy.”

I looked at myself again in the mirror. I actually felt kind of sexy, myself.

We were downstairs and in the casino by midnight. It had gotten busier in the relatively short time we were upstairs.

“This is when Vegas really gets started,” Krystal told me as we exited the elevator.

While she had insisted on paying for everything, I wouldn’t let her give me any gambling money. I appreciated her footing the bill for our stay but there was no way I was going to lose her money. I felt more comfortable losing my own.

Which is exactly what happened, and in short order. The roulette wheel had sucked me in and taken my conservative gambling budget for the night. After that, it was just drinks—three glasses of wine—and people watching, an endlessly fascinating form of entertainment in a place like Las Vegas.

The last person I expected to be watching was Max, but there he was, standing at the craps table. Looking stunning, of course. He had two-day stubble on his otherwise smooth face, and he wore black slacks, black blazer, and a blue shirt, no tie. He looked taller than I thought this time. Maybe it was just the contrast of his powerful frame next to a half dozen or so other men. And women. Who could miss those women? They were all blondes, and they were all hanging on him between rolls of the dice.

I thought back to Krystal’s earlier question about looking like a hooker and realized I had nothing to worry about. These women looked more the part. Maybe that’s what they were. My estimation of Max suddenly dropped a little.

I stood there for maybe five minutes, watching the spectacle, and then Krystal appeared beside me.

“Fucking blackjack. It’s rigged!”

Without taking my eyes off of Max, I said, “Lost big, huh?”

“Yup. I’m usually better at… what are you staring at?”

“Not what,” I said. “Who.”

“Okay. Who?” She turned to stand beside me and look where I was looking. “He’s hot.”

“Told you so. That’s Max Dalton.”

Krystal held the wineglass tipped at her mouth. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. Wow doesn’t quite cover it.”

“Look at those shameless bitches around him.”

By now, that’s pretty much all I was looking at. Some of them appeared to be one step away from dropping their dresses right there in the open casino and letting him have his way with them.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” I said.

Krystal started to say something about a game called Keno when I looked at Max one more time. I shouldn’t have. Then I wouldn’t have locked eyes with him, and he wouldn’t have been waving me over to where he was.

“Oh, no,” I said under my breath.

“It doesn’t have to be Keno. We could find a—”

“No,” I said. “He saw me.”

Krystal looked across the way to Max. “He’s calling you over there.”

I knew I should go. We had business to do with him and ignoring him wouldn’t exactly be a smart business decision. A lot was riding on his decision about whether to cast Jacqueline or not.

“Go!” Krystal gave me a nudge. “I want to see the looks on those chicks’ faces when you get there.”

I looked at her. “Thanks a lot.”

She smiled and said, “You can always count on me for support.”

As I started walking toward Max, it was like someone had turned down the volume on the entire casino. My eyes were fixed on him. It was my first experience with tunnel vision. I shouldered my way through the throng of women around him. They were reluctant to give me room until Max extended his hand and I reached up to take it.

“Hello, Olivia.”

“Mr. Max. I mean, hi, Max. Sorry. You told me not to call you Mr. Dalton, and I…” Jesus, how embarrassing. I was sounding so dumb, I didn’t even finish the sentence. I decided to just shut up.

“Actually, I kind of like Mr. Max.”

I appreciated his sense of humor. It put me at ease a little.

“What are you drinking?”

“Wine. Chardonnay.”

He flagged down a waitress and told her to bring another Chardonnay. “And another White Russian for me.”

The waitress said, “Yes, sir,” and when she walked away Max turned back to me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Olivia, do you know anything about craps?”

I looked at the confusing table, then up at the dealer. I’d never played it and figured there was no way I would figure it out in the next two seconds, especially with the wine cruising through my bloodstream and the temperature rising from being in this situation.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Max said.

“You would be correct.”

“No problem.” He reached down to the table and picked up the dice. “You’re just here for luck, anyway.”

“I’m not sure I’m the type of luck you want.” I stopped just short of telling him I had blown my nightly gambling budget in under thirty minutes.

Max eyed me up and down, then up again. “I think you’re exactly what I want.”

My face flushed. I felt the heat start in my chest and rise up my neck. What I needed after hearing that was a cold glass of water. Not to drink; to throw in my face and wake me from this bizarre experience.

The waitress returned with our drinks. Max put a hundred dollar bill on her tray and thanked her. He handed me the glass of wine, raised his tumbler of White Russian and said, “To Vegas.” We clinked our glasses together, and as I sipped my wine I let my eyes roam the crowd around us. The women definitely were not liking what they were seeing. I imagined some of them had spent hours clinging to him like lint, and here I was, a girl who to them appeared to come out of nowhere, and now was the object of Max’s flirting. Intense flirting. Maybe more than that….

He brought his fist up between our faces and opened his fingers, revealing the dice. “Blow on these.”

My eyebrows shot up my forehead. It didn’t take a dirty mind to come up with all kinds of wicked interpretations of his words, but it wasn’t even so much what he said. It was how he said it. There was a commanding tone to the words, carried on the deep resonance of his intensely male voice.

“Go ahead,” he urged as I hesitated.

He held his hand up close to my face. I took in a sharp breath, then blew on the dice, and a split second later he launched them down the table. When they finally stopped, I saw that each had landed on two.

“Hard way four,” the dealer called out, and scooped up the dice.

People around us cheered.

Max looked at me. “Nice work.”

“That’s good, I guess?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, he tried to explain the game to me. I understood very little of it. But Max was very good. In the time I stood next to him, he must have won fifty thousand dollars. It was just one more aspect of the night that had my head spinning.

Krystal had been hanging around in the crowd, and when we stopped playing I introduced her to Max.

“Krystal, very nice to meet you. Max Dalton.”

She smiled as they shook hands. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”

“Thank you.”

This is the part where I thought Krystal would drop a subtle—or maybe not so subtle—hint that she was an aspiring actress, but she didn’t.

So I did. But she stopped me before I got too far into it.

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” she said suddenly. “Mr. Dalton, it was really nice meeting you.” When she looked at me I saw that she was really uncomfortable. “I’ll see you later in the room. Or…whenever. Have fun!”

And with that, she was off to somewhere else in the casino, leaving me standing there with Max, wondering just what the hell I was supposed to do now.

THREE

Max and I ended up in a little bar area that was enclosed by glass. The room was filled with live piano music. The quiet was a nice respite from the incessant energy of the casino floor.

I had my fifth glass of wine. Not being a big drinker, I probably should have stopped at four. Maybe three. But there I was, sipping the fifth one in a matter of just two hours, while Max enjoyed another White Russian.

Just what the hell I thought I was doing, I have no idea. I was in over my head spending time alone with a guy like this. I thought there would be a lot of business talk, but in less than ten minutes he was asking me questions I wouldn’t have predicted in a million years.

“Why are you single, Olivia?”

“Maybe I’m not.” I decided to go the playful route, rather than tell him the truth: Oh, my only long-term boyfriend cheated on me three times and then freaked out one night, basically scaring me out of town, and I haven’t dated since, and by the way I’ve had many sleepless nights wondering if I’ll ever really trust a man again because Chris had hidden his true dark self so well, even though I thought I knew his soul. Still interested?

A smile curled the edges of his mouth. “You don’t have a ring on your finger.” He took my hand and his thumb caressed the bare place where a ring would have been. “And you didn’t come here with a guy.”

I looked up from my hand and met his gaze. “This could be a girls’ only weekend. Get away from the boyfriends for a few days.”

“Right.” His eyes expressed his amusement. He could see right through me.

“And who are you with?”

He looked around the bar, then back at me. “You.”

With Max touching me, and with the way he said “you,” my nerves were tingling. I crossed one leg over the other, and the pressure between my legs sparked a ripple of excitement. I’d never been this turned on just sitting with a guy before. Then again, I’d never been just sitting around with anyone who came anywhere close to rivaling Max Dalton’s sex appeal.

This was a bad idea. I needed to change the subject or get the hell out of there. Getting involved with Max was something that could be bad business. And it might even be worse to let him continue hitting on me and then turn him down. I didn’t just have to protect myself; I had to protect my job.

I politely thanked him for the glass of wine and stood.

“Got another hot date?” he asked.

“Is that what this was?”

“It could have been.”

“It was good to see you, Max. But I really need to get going. I’m exhausted from the trip and…from the last couple of hours of this.” I motioned to the casino floor.

“At least let me take you back to your room.”

“All right,” I said.

We made our way to the elevator and I couldn’t help but think he might try something on the ride up. Luckily, the elevator was crowded. Unluckily, we were squished together, with Max right behind me. I could feel his hard cock against my ass.

Opening the door to our hotel room, I said, “Krystal might be here. So, thanks again.”

He held the door open and looked over my head into the room. “She’s not here. How about a goodnight kiss?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry—”

Before I could finish the sentence, he leaned toward me, swiftly, pressing his mouth to mine. His tongue parted my lips and slid into my mouth. He tasted faintly of Kahlua. The two-day stubble was rough and masculine, a feeling I hadn’t had against my face in a too long. Max smelled of expensive cologne and it made me want to bury my face in his neck and inhale him.

I knew I shouldn’t have, but I let him keep kissing me. And I let him step into the room, over the threshold of the doorway, and all bets were off by then. The door closed behind him with a snap, and he was walking me backward as his tongue explored my mouth.

The backs of my legs touched the bed and I started to fall to my back. He swiftly moved one arm around me, caught me, and lowered me gently onto the bed.

My legs parted and the little black dress rode up, exposing more of my thighs than I’d planned on showing anyone tonight. Max’s hand wrapped around the back of one of my thighs and he settled in between my legs. Through my panties, and through the fabric of his slacks, I felt his erection press against me.

“Wait,” I said, pulling my mouth away from his. “We can’t do this.”

“Can’t make out on your bed?” He kissed me deeply again.

I put my hands on his arms to push him away. But once I felt the firm biceps, I just squeezed them. He groaned. “You like them?”

I did, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“Max, I’m serious.”

He stopped kissing me, stopped rubbing himself against me, but stayed where he was. “Me, too. I want you, Olivia. Right here. Now.”

He lowered his head and his tongue was in my mouth, licking my tongue.

I closed my eyes and then my fingers were running through his hair. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as the hot air from Max’s heavy breathing heated our kiss even more.

His hand stroked my thigh possessively, his fingers brushing the edge of my panties. He pulled away from the kiss and looked down as he raised the hem of my dress higher, exposing my bare legs and silk panties, which by now had started to become wet.

“God, Olivia. You’re so sexy.” His voice was so low it was almost just vibration at that point, our bodies so close it was as though I was absorbing the sounds he was making.

The situation was dizzyingly hot.

He pushed against me, letting me feel how hard his cock was. I raised my hips to meet him. I looked into his eyes and saw a primal craving. My mind swam in the fantasy of being the object of his desire.

Max brought his hand up to my shoulder. One finger slipped under the strap of my dress.

This was it. He was about to get me naked. There’d be no going back after that. Not just because he wouldn’t want to stop, but because I wouldn’t want to either.

This was bad, bad news. It was rife with potential to ruin our business relationship. It could ruin everything. It could ruin me, professionally and emotionally.

On top of that, there was a huge risk that his Hollywood lifestyle found him in situations like this all the time. Once that unfortunate nugget of doubt and fear entered my mind, I couldn’t get rid of it. I didn’t want to be another mark on his scorecard.

I needed to stop him before this went further.

When I heard the door opening, I looked up and my eyes met Max’s. He said, “Fuck,” and was off me, moving to a sitting position on the bed.

Krystal popped into the room before I could rearrange myself. I was just rising up from lying down, my dress was still hiked up to my hips. Embarrassing, yes, but a small price to pay for her providing me an easier way out of this situation.

Krystal stopped in her tracks. “Oops. Sorry. I’ll leave.”

Max didn’t say anything.

“No, no, it’s okay,” I said, pulled my dress back down my legs to a more respectable length.

Max looked at me. “It is?”

I nodded my head and looked at Krystal. “Max was just leaving.”

Max stood.

I said, “I’ll walk you out.”

Krystal stepped into the bathroom. “Guys, seriously, if you want me to leave…”

“You’re fine,” I said.

When we got out into the hallway, Max backed me up against the wall and kissed me, his tongue licking lusciously through my mouth.

“That was a close call,” he said.

“Yeah. Good thing she came in.”

“No, not good at all. I’m not giving up on this. I’m not giving up on you, Olivia.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. Probably more defensive than I needed to be. “It would probably be a good idea if you did.”

Max leaned in, his face barely two inches from mine. “Do I seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t go after exactly what he wants?” He kissed me again for a solid minute, then took a step back, eyed me up and down, and said, “You’re perfect.”

Then he just started walking down the hall, not looking back. I stood there silently, stunned by what had just happened to me over the last couple of hours.

When Max turned the corner down the hallway I fell back against the wall and said under my breath: “So. Are. You.”

FOUR

Krystal gave me shit about the whole thing the rest of the weekend. We spent Saturday walking around Las Vegas, eating a killer lunch at a cheap buffet. Indulgent, not very healthy, and just what I wanted after the crazy night I’d just had.

I didn’t see Max again until Sunday morning. Krystal and I were checking out of the hotel, standing at the reception desk. Since the weekend was her treat, she was handling the bill and I was free to look around.

Max was standing at the entrance to the hotel restaurant, dressed in casual clothing. He had his Ray Bans on, so I couldn’t see his eyes. I figured he might have a hangover and he was shielding them from the light.

Next to him stood a statuesque blonde in a red dress. She had her back to me so I couldn’t make out her face. She stood with one foot crossed over the other, her ankles locked. She wore five-inch heels that showed off her calf muscle definition. She seemed to be doing most of the talking.

At one point she put her hand on Max’s shoulder.

I hated the fact that seeing that gesture made my stomach turn. It seemed like I didn’t have grounds to be jealous. After all, I was the one who rejected him and ended our night. But I resented the fact that I had to end it. I knew I’d done the right thing, but still I hated it.

Max had told me he wasn’t giving up, that he wasn’t the type of guy who didn’t pursue what he wanted. I had no reason to think that wasn’t true, but seeing him with that woman was like a slap in the face. Of course he went after what he pursued. Of course he got what he wanted. And he probably did want me. It’s just that I wasn’t the only one. Exactly as I had predicted to myself when he was on top of me in the hotel room the other night.

I really needed to let this go….

Sunday was my usual check-in day with my parents, so I called them when we got back to L.A.

They were on separate phones at their house and when I told them what I’d done that weekend, there was a short span of silence before my mom said, “Harold, did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I thought you were.”

This was usual for my parents. They were both very conservative and demanding of Grace and me, but the lectures usually fell to my mom.

She said, “They call it ‘Sin City.’ Did you know that, Olivia?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ve heard that before.”

Oh, if only she knew how close I came to sinning with Max.

“You know that, Harold, right?” It was like my mom was scolding him, too.

I shut down that part of the conversation by asking about their favorite topic of discussion, Claire, my niece. They recounted each and every little thing Claire was doing as she approached her first birthday, and my mom said, “You’ll see her soon. Thanksgiving, right?”

I told her that I was definitely coming home for Christmas, but wasn’t sure about Thanksgiving yet. This touched off a ten minute debate, and by the end of it I couldn’t have been more ready to end that exhausting call.

I went out into the den and found Krystal lying on the couch watching TV. She was riveted to an argument between two of the Kardashian sisters. I sat down in one of the chairs and watched for a few minutes, but it was annoying and I was able to block it out with thoughts of Max.

When the show went to commercial, Krystal muted the television. “What’s wrong?”

I snapped out of my daydream. “Nothing.”

“Lie.”

“It’s just…I don’t know.”

She sat up and faced me. “It’s Mr. Hollywood, isn’t it?”

I pulled my feet up to the seat, hugging my knees to my chest, and sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Uh, yeah. It really is.”

After Max had left the hotel room, I told her the whole story so she knew nothing had happened. Well, nothing much, anyway. Just enough to make it a recurring topic of conversation, mostly with Krystal saying I should have gone for it all that night.

“Listen,” she said, “if you’re going to make your life here, you’re going to have to get used to this sort of thing. Especially since you’re going to be working around actors, directors, producers… I mean, think about it. You’re pretty, single, and guys like you. This isn’t Ohio, and it certainly isn’t our little Podunk town.”

She had a point. I was in uncharted waters and possibly in over my head. But if I was going to make it here, I’d have to learn to deal with it. That didn’t mean I had to sleep with every guy who hit on me; it simply meant I’d have to become skillful at choosing the right ones to say yes to, and not leading on the ones I knew I’d say no to.

I shouldn’t have led Max on like I did, and I felt a little guilty about that.

But the bigger immediate issue—in fact, the biggest issue—was what impact the other night would have on my work.

“Shit. What am I going to do if he turns down Jacqueline for the role and Kevin finds out why? I’ll be screwed.”

Krystal got up from the couch and grabbed her empty glass. She walked into the kitchen while answering. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do about that now. Except maybe call him up and sleep with him now.”

“Come on, I’m serious.”

“I know,” she said, her voice carrying in from the kitchen. “Sorry. I wish I knew what to tell you. Do you want some wine?”

“Ugh. No, I’ve had plenty this weekend.”

Krystal obviously wasn’t going to be of much help, but I was hoping she’d have some insight for me. Even something small and seemingly insignificant that might spark a solution in my mind. But all hope was dashed when she came back into the room.

“Oh! The show’s back on.” She grabbed the remote and un-muted the television. “Sorry, I have to see what happens here.”

I arrived at work Monday morning determined to get back in the mindset I was in before the Vegas trip, which meant focusing on work and only work, and that’s what I did all week. Work during the day, Netflix at night.

We didn’t hear from Max or his people all week. I talked to Jacqueline several times, and she was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with. She was convinced she wasn’t going to get the part. Once again, I had to play therapist and keep her on an even keel.

Friday brought some comic relief in the form of an aspiring actor and complete jackass I had to meet with. Part of my job was doing preliminary reviews of unsolicited letters and resumes sent to us by people looking for an agent.

Sam Ryan arrived fifteen minutes late for the meeting, a bad first impression for an actor seeking representation. He wore black jeans, a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and way too much aftershave.

We went to the conference room and started off with some small talk about the great weather and the horrible traffic, typical LA conversation pieces.

Within ten minutes, I knew I was dealing with a guy who thought too much of himself. He kept telling me how much casting directors didn’t know what they were doing, how there’s so much untapped talent out there and he was the “cream of the untapped crop,” and how the industry was overly concerned with money to the detriment of art.

He was going nowhere with that attitude, and it wasn’t my job to change him. He wouldn’t have a chance in a meeting with Kevin.

His big mistake was telling me he’d been in two episodes of Friends, with speaking parts in both. He claimed he was supposed to have been a recurring character—an ex-boyfriend of Monica’s. All of that would have been easy to check but I didn’t have to. I was a huge fan of the show and I’d probably seen every episode three times. I would have remembered this guy. So I added “liar” to the list of negatives.

“So why aren’t you repped now?” I asked.

“Well, my agent recently passed away, so that’s why I’m looking.”

I felt bad for asking the question with such a sarcastic tone. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What was his name? Or her name?” I started shuffling through his still shots to find his resume.

“Estelle Leonard.”

I stopped. That was the name of the agent who represented Joey’s character on Friends. What the hell was with this guy? He was either abnormally stupid, or he thought I was. It was at this point that I decided he was no longer entertaining and I didn’t have the patience to listen to any more of his bullshit.

I ended the meeting by standing and telling him, “Thanks for coming by. We’ll be in touch.” It was a nice way of saying Don’t call us, we’ll call you.

“You got plans tonight?” he asked.

I was stunned, considering how coldly I had treated him. “Excuse me?”

“I was just wondering if, you know, maybe we could ‘hook up’,” he said, using air-quotes.

“I really don’t think so.”

He lowered his voice, not for the benefit of privacy, but in an apparent attempt to sound sexy. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“So?”

“So, again, it’s a no.”

He stepped toward me, looking right at my chest. “You’re really hot. Just tell me what it’ll take.”

Exasperated, I told him the truth. “You want to know what it will take? A serious lapse of judgment on my part.” I stepped toward the conference room door, opened it, and stepped aside. I motioned out the door with my hand. “Good luck, Mr. Ryan.”

He straightened up and started moving toward the door. I gave him a little more room.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it,” he said.

I let him get out of the room, almost all the way across the lobby, and when he reached for the main doors I said, “And you don’t have to wear so much cheap aftershave!”

He kept going without looking back.

Kevin’s office door opened and he poked his head out. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Everything’s fine.”

“Okay. I’m on a call, but give me…” He looked at his watch. “Give me about fifteen minutes and we’ll go over some of those demo DVDs.”

I was gathering the stuff off the conference room table to throw in the trash, wondering if Sam Ryan had been right. I had never thought of myself as a bitch before, but I guess it was inside me somewhere and all it took was a little stress and an annoying person to release it.

I was worried about the whole thing with Max and the impact my rejection would have on my job. Jesus. How stupid had I been, letting things get as far as they had? Kevin would probably fire me on the spot if he found out.

Back out in the open office area, I heard Kevin’s door open. I looked in that direction and saw him waving me into his office. I put the package down on a desk and went in, where he motioned to me to have a seat, then put a finger up to his lips, telling me to be silent and just listen.

Kevin switched the phone to speaker and the room was filled with the smooth voice of Max Dalton.

Oh, shit. This is it, I thought. Max was going to tell Kevin that he decided to take a pass on Jacqueline Mathers. Then we’d lose her as a client. Kevin would probably find out what happened in Vegas, I’d lose my job, and I’d become the latest person to hear the proverbial “You’ll never work in this town again” phrase. Damnit, stomach, stop churning…. I felt like I was going to be sick right there on the floor in Kevin’s office.

What I heard Max saying was: “…lots of auditions, live and on DVD, and this was one of the harder decisions I’ve had to make. Jacqueline is good. She’s great looking and she’s an absolute natural. Her lack of experience bothers me a little…”

Here it comes, I thought.

“…but it’s not something that can’t be overcome,” Max was saying. Then he mentioned the director. “Gary and I talked it over, and he’s equally impressed. We’d like to offer her the role.”

Kevin gave a thumbs-up. “That’s great to hear, Max.”

I might have been even more thankful to hear the news than Kevin was. An incredible rush of relief washed over me and every muscle in my body relaxed. I hadn’t ruined Jacqueline’s chances, or Kevin’s business, or my own future. Now I could relax.

Max said, “I have the contract all ready to be signed. Maybe you can send over your assistant to pick it up.”

So much for relaxing.

Kevin looked at me. “Uh, sure. No problem.”

Keep breathing, I told myself. Great. I was now going to be in Max’s office. Just when I thought all the worry and stress was over and done with.

“I’ll be here for another hour or two.”

“She’ll be right over. And thanks again, Max. Look forward to working with you.”

“Talk to you soon.” Click.

Kevin tapped the screen on his phone and put it on the desk. “Do you have any idea how huge this is?”

“It’s…yeah, just amazing.” My voice lacked enthusiasm, but he didn’t pick up on it.

“This is my biggest and most important deal so far.” He stood and started pacing, walking off some nervous energy, I supposed. “But you already knew that.” He looked at his watch. “You remember how to get to the studio, right? To Max’s office?”

My stomach started churning again. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”

Kevin reminded me about giving his name at the guard gate, and within five minutes I was in my car, navigating LA traffic, my mind racing with thoughts of seeing Max again.

FIVE

During the drive over to the studio, it struck me that maybe Max had given Jacqueline the part just to get me over to his office. Was that even possible?

No, surely it wasn’t. My paranoia was getting the best of me. There was no way a big-shot Hollywood producer would hire an actress just to get some alone time with the assistant to the agent who repped the actress. Too much money at risk. His entire reputation could fall along with one flop movie.

It was ridiculous to think all of this was a ruse to get me over to his office. He had dozens of ways of doing that. Maybe not this immediately, but he could have accomplished it if he’d wanted to.

I got to the guard gate and was told where to park. As I walked across the lot, my eyes scanned my surroundings for famous people. Yes, I was still new enough to Hollywood to be star-gazing.

I found Max’s office with no trouble. When I walked in, I was greeted by a tall blonde, and was struck by the very real possibility that she was the same woman Max was talking to that last morning in Las Vegas. I hadn’t seen her face, but it made sense that his assistant might be there. Maybe she traveled with him all the time. Maybe she was there on her own and they just happened to run into each other. Or maybe he was fucking her….

Whatever the case, I hadn’t met her the first time I was here.

She noticed me and said, “Hi, can I help you?”

“I’m Olivia Rowland. Here to see Max—Mr. Dalton.”

“Oh, yes, he’s expecting you. Go right on in.” She gave me a friendly smile.

Max’s reception area was larger than our entire office and it seemed like my heels were clicking extra loud as I made my way to the frosted-glass doors that led to his office. I took a deep breath, turned the handle, and stepped in.

Max was sitting on a couch just below a huge poster of the last movie he’d made. I’d been so nervous last time I was here, I hadn’t noticed the details of his office. There was a large glass and chrome desk, a large black leather chair behind it, and two smaller versions on the other side. The walls held other movie posters—all large, expensively framed, and each had its own lighting.

“Olivia,” he said, standing to greet me.

“Hi, Max.”

“Please, come have a seat.” He pointed at the couch.

I wanted to sit in one of the chairs opposite the couch, with the large coffee table separating us. Every move he made exuded confidence, grace, and sex. I knew I shouldn’t sit next to him.

He held out his hand, inviting me, and I took it. But I sat several feet away from him.

Max lifted up his arm and took a dramatic sniff. “Do I smell bad?”

“No.” Actually you smell amazing, I thought. “Why?”

“Because you sat so far away from me. I figured you had a good reason.”

Did I ever. But I couldn’t exactly tell him that I needed some space between us so I wouldn’t get sucked into a replay of the other night in the hotel room.

I kept my voice level and professional. “I’m just here to pick up the contract.”

Max slid down the couch until he was right next to me. I got a close-up look again at those deep eyes, and his perfectly shaped lips.

He put a finger under my chin. “I couldn’t wait for you to get here.” He leaned forward and kissed me—a soft kiss, no tongue.

When he pulled back I said, “We really need to stop this. Or…at least talk about it.”

“Why ruin it with talking?”

Was he serious? He seemed to have a smooth way with women in all aspects, so why the hell would he even hint that talking wasn’t necessary?

“Don’t you think this is a bad idea?” I asked.

His eyes left mine, and his gaze drifted down my body—to my chest, then my legs, which were shown off by the skirt I wore. “I can’t think of a better idea than you and me together.”

“And by ‘together’ you mean sex, right? Just sex.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you like. What do you like, Olivia?”

I’d never had such a blunt discussion like this before. It was making me a little nervous, but not to the point where I was going to lose my resolve. I did ask for something to drink, though, and Max immediately offered me a White Russian.

“Is that all you drink?” I asked.

He nodded as he stood and made his way to the bar area of his office. “Ever since high school. I never liked beer. Didn’t like any of the other stuff I tried, either. But the White Russian…I fell in love with it from the start and I’ve been faithful ever since.”

That got a laugh out of me. “I’ll have a water, thanks.”

“Sparkling or spring?”

“Just plain water. Whatever you’ve got.”

I watched him standing at the bar, his back to me. Today he was wearing a long-sleeved, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and dark brown boots. The t-shirt clung to his torso, nicely showing off those wide shoulders and back, down to his trim waist. His semi-long brown locks curled right where the shirt collar started. I got to check out his nice ass for the first time, thanks to the jeans, and had to tear my eyes away from him before he turned around and caught me. It was as though he’d been carefully built, painstakingly constructed by someone with great taste and a serious attention to detail.

I looked out the large windows and for the first time saw the view he had of the studio lot. From his third-floor office, I could see several outdoor sets, some of which looked familiar from movies I’d seen. Far off in the distance, Hollywood’s hills provided the backdrop. The only flaw in this view was not being able to see the famous sign on the hillside.

Max was making his drink as he said, “Just plain water, huh? I never figured you for a girl who likes anything plain.”

“I don’t like complications.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. Sometimes complications can be quite exciting. At least, that’s what I’ve found.”

Clearly, we were not talking about water here, and both of us knew it.

He joined me on the couch, handing me a bottle of plain water.

“So,” he said, “you want to talk. Let’s talk.”

I sipped the cool water, trying to figure out what I was going to say.

“I’ll go first,” he said, saving me. “Let’s just get this out in the open. We’re attracted to each other. We’re both single—”

“Are we?” I interrupted.

“I certainly am. Have I misjudged your situation?”

I shook my head. “No, you haven’t.”

“Good. So what’s stopping you?”

I put the water bottle on the table and crossed my legs. “I don’t do…this. I don’t just randomly hook up with guys just because they’re hot.”

Max’s face was taken over by a smile. “So you think I’m hot.”

My head dropped. “Yes. Yes, I think you’re hot, okay? Happy?”

He sipped his White Russian. “Happy? Yeah. I could be happier, though.”

“Listen, what I’m saying is that it’s going to take more than a few scripted lines and smooth moves to get in my pants.”

“Actually, you’re wearing a skirt. But that’s just a technicality.”

I liked his sense of humor and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“And, for the record,” he continued, “I haven’t scripted any lines for this.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

He settled back on the couch more, closer to me. I smelled his wonderful manly scent again and almost asked him what he was wearing, but decided not to.

Instead, I said, “I’m not interested in a casting couch romp.”

He threw his head back and laughed. When he looked back at me he said, “Neither am I, Olivia. In fact, I haven’t heard of a casting couch ‘romp’ as you put it in my entire career in this town.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It’s a thing of the past. At least, I think it is.”

“You have your choice of women, I’m sure. Speaking of which, when I was leaving Las Vegas Sunday morning, I saw you with a blonde woman just outside the restaurant.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Ah, yes. She was trying to sell me something.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet she was.” I reached for my water bottle.

“She wasn’t a prostitute. She works for the corporation that owns that hotel and casino and another one down the strip. She was trying to get me to buy another penthouse.”

“Another?”

He nodded. “I have one in the hotel where we were.”

Jesus. If he’d brought me up to his penthouse, I wouldn’t have made it out of there without giving him what he wanted. I was close enough that night to wanting it that it would have been damn near a sure thing.

“So,” I said, “are you going to get another one?”

Max frowned. “I can’t see needing two in Vegas.”

“Good point.”

“Thank you.” He smirked and sipped his drink. “Let’s get back to the casting couch…”

“Let’s not. What I need to get back to is work.”

It would have been the perfect time to stand up, ask for the contract, and be on my way. But Max’s hand was suddenly resting on my leg. I looked down and saw him turn his hand over, palm up, and he rubbed my knee with the back of his index finger.

I watched him do that for a few seconds, marveling at how that slight touch sent a shock of excitement up my leg. My chest felt heavy, and I felt my nipples puckering.

“You want this as much as I do,” he said. “I see it in the way you look at me.”

I turned my head to look at him and in a flash his face met mine, his lips taking mine. My mouth opened and his tongue took the invitation without hesitation. There was no stopping him, and at that point, I didn’t have any desire to stop anything he was doing.

He controlled the kiss, heated and slick, taking the lead with his sensual licks along my tongue.

Max pulled away from my face for a moment. “You’re not saying no.”

“I haven’t said yes, either.”

“Let me try to make you say it.”

His mouth took mine again.

Max’s hand slid up my thigh slowly. My heart rate increased in anticipation. One finger slipped under the elastic of the leg hole in my panties, and I felt the tip of his fingers brush against my wet folds.

“Oh, God,” I said into his mouth.

“That’s almost a yes.”

He kept teasing me with the tip of his finger, softly going a little farther each time, but not near my clit.

I took a handful of his hair and squeezed. It was thick, yet soft, and my grabbing it seemed to stir even more passion in him.

“We don’t need to take this off,” he said, tugging my shirt up. “But I have to see these.”

Max unclasped my bra, pushing it aside, exposing my breasts.

“God, Olivia…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head and sealed his lips around my nipple. I watched the tip of his tongue tweaking it, as his hand squeezed and plumped up my other breast.

He took the other nipple into his mouth. They were both getting tighter now, due to his attention, and also as the cool air rushed across the wetness he left behind.

My skirt was riding up my hips. Max hooked his thumb into the waistband of my panties and started pulling them down my legs.

I looked down and saw that they’d come off one leg, but were now dangling from my other ankle. Max guided that leg up to the arm of the couch, pulling my other one over his lap, and I was spread wide and open for him.

I’d never felt so vulnerable to a man before. But then I’d never been with a man who took control like this, either.

“You haven’t said yes yet, Olivia.”

“Isn’t this position enough?”

He grinned. “Say it.”

His hand had crept back up my thigh. His fingers curled around the underside, leaving his thumb hovering just over me.

I looked at him. “Yes.”

I tilted my head back against the couch in reaction to his thumb making contact with my clit. He massaged it in slow circles, giving it more pressure, then less, then more again.

I was looking straight up at the ceiling when I felt his mouth on my neck. His tongue traced little circles, and then he’d suck a little.

The way he was working my clit was perfect, and I could have come just like that, but it wasn’t enough for Max. He moved his hand and slipped one finger inside me, turning it as he let it slide in and out in short strokes.

“You’re so open to me,” he said.

That voice had been enough to get me wet before, but the effect was a thousandfold with his fingers in motion on me, and in me.

“God, Olivia, you’re more than I bargained for.”

I was thinking the same thing about him. My mind was focusing on his hand, though, as he slipped a second finger in.

“Oh, yes, please,” I said.

“Tell me what you like.”

“That. Right..th-th-there….oh, God….”

With my leg over his lap, I could feel his hard cock through his pants. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel.

My hips bucked to meet his stroking fingers. I was holding nothing back.

I looked at Max. He was looking down between my legs so I looked down, too. If my legs had been spread any wider, they would have been perilously close to the cramping point. But there was no pain. It was all pleasure coming from Max’s skilled hand.

The way he fingered me was better than any sex I’d ever had.

My breath hitched in my throat and I gasped.

I wondered if they door was locked, and then thought that if someone walked in I wouldn’t have cared. This was too damn good.

I started moving the leg that was draped over his lap. Max’s cock strained against his jeans. I don’t know how he maintained the self-control to keep it there—he could have had his pants down in seconds and fucked me.

“I’m going to make you come, Olivia. This is all about you.”

There was my answer as to why he kept his pants on. This is all about you. I’d never had a guy say that to me. Such an idea had probably never crossed the minds of the guys I’d been with.

“Are you ready to come for me?”

“Yes. Yes.”

His mouth pressed to mine, deliciously powerful and possessive. He lowered his head and flattened his tongue over my nipple, then took it between his tongue and his upper teeth—a sensation of softness combined with just the slightest sharp edge.

His fingers picked up the pace, and the flat of his palm pressed against my clit. Perfect.

Max said, “You see how hot it could be? You and me?”

I was at the point where verbal responses were nearly impossible. At least coherent ones were. I made some kind of noise that was close to a squeak. Where did that come from? Max had drawn it out of me, somehow.

“Our sex will be so good. I could make you come a hundred different ways.”

After this performance—was he auditioning?—I didn’t doubt that he could.

“I want to see your eyes when you come, Olivia.”

I’d had my head tilted back again, and when I moved and looked at him, his mouth was slightly open.

“You feel how hard you got me?”

I nodded, pressing my leg down and feeling his erection. I had an image of it ripping right through his jeans.

“It’s going to be inside you soon, and you’ll return the pleasure I’m giving you now.”

“Max. Please….I want to….”

“Want to what? Want to come? Want to make me come?”

“All—all of it,” I stammered.

A wicked smile grew on the edges of his mouth. “Not yet. Not all of it. This is all you right now.”

“Oh, God, yes. I’m gonna…”

My words trailed off as he brought me to orgasm. My hips thrust against his hand. His two fingers were right on the spot I always found with my own fingers. A spot most guys never found, but Max had zeroed in on it with seemingly no effort.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did what he said, and his eyes had the look of someone who’d just completed a major conquest.

He knew he had me. He knew I’d given in. It was the most turned-on I’d ever been and I hadn’t held back one bit. There was an intensity to making myself vulnerable to him that I hadn’t expected. It was easier than I’d thought it would have been, and the payoff was beyond my wildest expectation.

Max’s face was close to mine, so close that our foreheads were touching. He looked deep into my eyes as the fog of the orgasm lifted from me and I slowly faded back into reality.

Max was hooking my bra again, and pulling my shirt back down to cover me. He moved off the couch and knelt on the floor, lifted the ankle that still held onto my panties, and looped them over my other ankle. I moved my hips to accommodate him as he pulled them up my legs to my waist. After straightening my skirt, he sat beside me once again.

I was thinking how unique it was that he made sure I was dressed again, covered, and not having to feel uncomfortable after the moment for vulnerability had passed.

“Thank you,” I said.

He kissed my forehead, then my cheek, and then gave me a long, slow, sweet kiss on the lips.

I wanted to stay, but I needed to go. “I have to get back to work.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want Kevin to wonder what was going on.” He smiled. “I’ll get the contract.”

I went and stood by his office doors while he got the envelope. When he handed it to me, I started to take it, but he held on and tugged on it.

I looked up at him. He had a playful smile on his face.

“Thanks for coming to get this, Ms. Rowland.”

“It was nice to see you again, Mr. Dalton.”

He let go of the large envelope. I held it close to my chest. I was waiting for a goodbye, maybe a little peck of a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he leaned in, kissed my ear and said, “Next time we won’t be rushed, and I’m going to take my time fucking you.”

I swallowed hard. The bluntness in his tone was shocking, and almost surely would have made me laugh if it had come out of any other man’s mouth. But the truth is, I was aroused by it.

He reached for the door handle, but before he opened it I said, “When exactly is next time?”

Damnit. There was a note of desperation in my question that I hadn’t intended to be there.

He looked up as though he were trying to find the answer. “I think I’ll let it be a surprise.”

SIX

“That sure took a long time,” Kevin said as I walked into the office.

“Sorry.”

I tried not to make eye contact with him, even though I knew it would only make it seem even more like I was hiding something.

“Well?” he said. “What happened?”

“With what?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

He squinted a little and looked at me sideways. “You don’t look okay. You look…different. Is something wrong?”

I’d heard of “just-fucked hair” before but was there such a thing as “just-finger-fucked hair”? Was that what he was referring to? Or maybe I was just so nervous about being found out that it showed on my face. Either way, I didn’t want him to elaborate.

“Everything’s fine, Kevin. I got the contract.” I reached into my bag to get the envelope. “And then after I left, I needed to stop somewhere and take care of something.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me.

I lowered my voice and added, “Personal stuff.” I made a kind of embarrassed looking face for effect, and it appeared as though he bought the story.

“Ah, sorry,” he said.

I shook my head. “No worries.” I handed the envelope to Kevin.

He opened it, took out the contract and quickly scanned it. “Do you have any idea what these papers mean? This is huge for me.” He looked at it again with extreme pride on his face.

“I’m so happy for you.”

He looked up from the papers. “Happy for us. You’re part of the team here. I couldn’t have done this without your help.”

It saddened me to hear that. For one thing, it was a humble thing for him to say, and that wasn’t something you came across very often in Hollywood. And secondly, while I knew it was true that I’d done a lot to help him land the role for Jacqueline, I’d also done a lot to put Kevin’s business in jeopardy.

All it would take is one rumor about Kevin using young assistants to persuade studio execs in a less than ethical manner.

I couldn’t have been happier that it was Friday and I had two full days to be away from Kevin and the office.

All I could think about for the rest of the day was when I’d see Max again. He said he’d let it be a surprise, and when I was leaving his office I thought it sounded exciting. But by the end of the workday it was just nerve-wracking.

I had plans that night to go to a club with Krystal and two of her friends I’d recently met. Maybe that would serve as a good distraction from all things Max.

“This dress makes me look like a whore, doesn’t it?”

I was in my bathroom putting on makeup when Krystal walked in and asked the question. I remembered her asking me that when we were in Vegas. I looked at her in the mirror. She had on a tight, peach-colored strapless dress that went all the way down to her feet. It was gorgeous on her, but I wondered what would happen if she accidentally stepped on the hem. There was no way her boobs wouldn’t pop out if that happened.

“Why do you keep asking me if you look like a whore?”

She turned to the side and looked at her profile in the mirror. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to look like a cheap skank.”

“You look great. Just one thing, though…” I told her about the hem and she said she’d already thought of that, and if it happened, maybe it would be the highlight of the night.

“That would be an understatement,” I said.

I finished getting ready, all the while debating whether or not to tell her about what had happened in Max’s office earlier in the day. Frankly, I was amazed by my restraint.

Krystal gave directions as I drove us to her favorite club, a place called Drais located atop the W Hotel on Hollywood Boulevard. Having been to Las Vegas, I was somewhat ready for the action—the lights, music, well-dressed and good-looking people—but this was a step up. These were Hollywood’s hottest hanging out in a place that was a restaurant, pool, and nightclub. Inside, the music was loud, lighting showcased the red, black, purple, and green walls. Big comfortable chairs and couches were everywhere. People were dancing beneath oversized floor lamps, complete with shades. Even more people were out by the pool.

It was a gorgeous night. From the vantage point of the rooftop of the W Hotel, I had a completely new perspective on LA. At least I did in a visual sense.

We found two of Krystal’s friends who she’d been meaning to introduce to me—Julia and Rachel. They were also aspiring actresses, and within ten minutes of being introduced to them I heard them talk more about auditions and agents than Krystal had in the month I’d been living with her. Odd.

When they got around to talking about the famous people they had seen here before, Max’s name came up.

“Speak of the devil,” Julia said.

We all looked in the direction she nodded toward.

Holy shit. There he was. Over by the outdoor bar area. He was speaking to two men I didn’t recognize, and then we made eye contact. A slow grin appeared on his face and he mouthed the word: “Surprise.”

And surprised I was. Actually, that’s not even the word for it. There might not be a good one to describe what I felt—my breath hitched in my throat, my knees got weak, and I felt a tingling sensation all over my skin that left my nipples hard and a faint ache between my legs.

“I’ve heard stories about that guy,” Julia said.

Krystal looked at me with a worried expression. I was glad I hadn’t told her what had happened in Max’s office earlier that afternoon.

Rachel sipped her margarita. “Do tell.”

Yes, please do tell, I thought. Maybe I needed to know more about Max before I let him give me the surprise he’d promised earlier.

“Total womanizer,” Julia said.

Krystal looked at me, then at Julia. “Have you been on the receiving end of it?”

Julia said, “No, but I’ve heard things. Lots of things.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Just that he’s fucked a lot of actresses.”

Krystal laughed. “Oh, the horror. Hey, it’s Hollywood. He’s hot and single. No laws against him doing what he wants.”

Julia turned to Krystal. “Don’t tell me you—”

“Nope.” Krystal shook her head. “I’ve only seen him in person one time, actually.” She looked at me.

“You?” Julia said, giving me a look up and down, like I was someone Max wouldn’t look twice at. At least that’s how I took it.

I didn’t bother to answer her. I just smiled. I knew what was about to happen, and I decided to let that speak for itself.

Rachel swirled her drink. “He could do whatever he wants with me. Look at that body. Damn.” She was biting her lower lip.

“Oh, holy shit.” Julia’s eyes got huge. “Is he… Yep. He’s coming over here.”

“Come to mama,” Rachel purred.

But he didn’t go to Rachel. He came up to me.

“Hello, Olivia.” He kissed my cheek.

I whispered, “What are you doing here?”

His mouth was still near my ear. “Surprise…”

Rachel and Julia looked at me, shock registering on their faces. They looked at Krystal, who shrugged, with a grin on her face.

Max put his hand on the small of my back. “Everyone having a good time so far?”

Krystal and the girls said they were.

I didn’t bother introducing him to Rachel and Julia. Their disdain for me was obvious in the way they looked at me, but I didn’t care.

Max looked at me, then at the girls. “I hope you ladies don’t mind, but I need to steal Olivia away for a little while.”

All three shook their heads.

When we got a few feet away, Max asked me who drove.

“I did. Why?”

“You should give your car key to Krystal.”

“Why?”

“So she can get home.”

I laughed nervously. “I know what you meant, but…where are we going?”

He kissed me lightly on the lips. “It’s a surprise, remember?”

I got my car key out of my bag and walked the few steps back to Krystal and handed her the key.

“You’re leaving?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Julia and Rachel both looked at me with their mouths open.

“He said he has a surprise for me,” I said. “I’ll see you later. Or tomorrow. Or…whenever.”

I turned on my heel and walked away, feeling like I’d just won the championship round of the catty girl playoffs.

SEVEN

Thirty minutes later, we were in Malibu, turning into the driveway of a huge house. Palm trees dotted the lawn, and the house was illuminated by lights shining up from the ground.

Max pulled into the garage, turned off the car and said, “I can’t wait to get you into my house.” He got out and came around to open my door for me. When I stood, he took me in his arms and kissed me ferociously.

“I can’t wait to see your house. It looks beautiful.”

“That’s not why I want you inside.” He took my hand and led me inside.

We entered through a door in the garage, and it led right into an expansive living room. It was dark—everything from the walls to the floor to the furniture, shades of rich browns and reds, with small pools of light from lamps around the room. His office was bright and modern looking, but his home was all warm tones, very masculine.

Just like him. And just like the possessive way he kissed me again when we were barely inside the house.

My purse dropped to the floor. Max slid the zipper down the back of my dress and it fell to my ankles. I stepped out of it, finding myself standing there in my bra, panties, and heels.

“You have a way of getting me naked, Max.”

“I love when you’re exposed to me.”

His lips sealed around mine, his tongue hungrily exploring my mouth.

I managed to pull away a little. “Don’t I get to see you?”

He moaned from deep in his chest. “I want you to see me. Undress me.”

His hands fell to his sides and he stood before me, waiting.

Holy shit. I was about to undress Max Dalton and see his gorgeous self in the nude.

I untucked his shirt and slid it up his body, my hands underneath, feeling the muscles in his stomach and chest. I unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it over his shoulders and it joined my clothes on the floor.

He was in just as good a shape as I’d imagined. His chest was broad, covered by a thin field of fine hair. I put my hands on his pecks and felt how taut they were.

When I looked up at Max’s face, I saw his eyes smoldering with intensity. I kept eye contact with him as I lowered my hands down his stomach and found his belt. Hearing the metal-on-metal clink as I unfastened the buckle was like a chiming alert: You’re about to touch his cock…

And that’s what I did. My hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers and before I knew it my fingers were touching the base of his erection. I moved my hand to wrap it around his girth, and felt how thick he was.

Max’s hands came up to the sides of my face, and he pulled me to his mouth. A searing hot kiss followed as my hand explored his length. The skin was velvety soft, sheathing the hardest and biggest cock I’d ever felt. A rush of excitement burst through me as I thought about how I was the object of his driving desire.

“God, Olivia, your touch is so perfect.”

He kissed me again as he unhooked my bra. My breasts felt heavy and he took each of them in his hands, cupping them, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs.

I kissed his neck and down his chest and stomach, lowering myself to my knees. I unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. My first look at his cock. It was long and thick, sticking straight out and twitching with eagerness. It seemed like I looked at it for several minutes, but I know it was only seconds. Just as I was about to take him into my mouth he touched my shoulder and urged me to stand.

Max wrapped his hands around my waist. “I want you on the couch.” He lifted me with ease and took the few steps toward the couch, setting me down on my back.

“I’ve wanted to taste you all day,” he said, kissing down my neck, my chest, stopping at each nipple and tracing rings around them with his tongue. They hardened into tight peaks under his movements.

Max was kneeling on the floor as I lay sort of sidelong on the couch. He pulled my underwear down my legs swiftly, almost yanking them, and at that moment I wouldn’t have cared if he’d torn them off of me.

He raised my legs with one of his large, strong hands holding my ankles together, and removed my heels.

He licked the backs of each calf, then down behind my knees, where it almost tickled a little, but this was too hot an experience for tickling. Down my thighs, kissing, sucking…staying there, sucking…

Was he giving me a hickey on the back of my thigh? Marking me? Whoa.

When he parted my legs, he guided one to drape over his shoulder. He pushed the other out, far, spreading me wide open just as he’d done on the couch in his office.

“I love it when you’re so open for me,” he said, echoing my thoughts.

“Max…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t get any words out. I’m not even sure what I would have said, anyway.

He kissed the inside of each thigh, lingering a little on the second one, opening his mouth and letting his teeth drag along my skin. Then buried his face between my legs, his tongue fluttering along my wet flesh.

Max used his fingers to part me, exposing my overly excited clit to him. When his tongue made first contact with it, I wanted to stay like that for a while, maybe hours, maybe days…I just didn’t want him to stop.

My hips rolled along with his touch—his tongue making circular movements around my clit, my body making movements in the opposite direction, creating a friction like none other I’d ever felt. My body was begging for it and Max was giving me all I could handle.

I was insanely turned on by the noises he made—moaning and almost growling in his own pleasure, pleasure he was deriving from pleasing me.

“Max, I’m so close…”

I felt his hot breath on me as he spoke between licks. “Come for me. Come in my mouth.”

“Don’t stop.”

I writhed along with his tongue strokes, the orgasm jolting through me. My stomach muscles flexed, relaxed, repeated, and my body shook as I threw my head back into the pillow and cried out his name.

He moaned, adding a vibration to the licking, and the orgasm intensified as it rocked through every inch of my body.

As the orgasm was subsiding, Max stayed where he was, kissing my inner thighs. After a moment, he moved up over me, his mouth immediately going to mine. I felt the hunger in his kiss—deep, passionate, wanting, needing.

He knelt between my legs and ripped open the foil packet holding the condom. I watched as he rolled it down his magnificent length. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I wanted more. I needed more.

My head rolled to one side when he put his hand beside it on the couch. The weight of him and the forcefulness with which he moved causing the cushion to give way. My arms were just over my head. Max grabbed them both with one hand, holding my wrists together like he’d done with my ankles, pinning me in place on the couch.

I watched his face. His lips pressed together, his nostrils flared, and his eyes were staring hard at me with lust. I was underneath a man who was intent on having me, owning me sexually, driving toward his own release.

“Ready, Olivia?”

I nodded.

“Good, because I was going to fuck you either way.”

I felt the head of his cock notch between my folds. He pushed a little and I took the first inch or so.

“You’re so tight.”

“Uh huh…” The pitch of my voice was high again. Max had a way of making me sound unlike my usual self.

He pushed in all the way in one hard thrust, sending my head back into the pillow as my back and neck arched, taking all of him in. I felt his balls against me.

I gasped. Max was so hard, so big, so deep, I wasn’t sure I could take any more without coming fast.

His mouth went to my neck and I felt his lips suck on my skin, then his tongue lapping at me as he said my name again and pulled back—almost all the way out, then drove back inside me with a long stroke.

I’d never been controlled like this during sex before, never had a man hold my wrists and possess me like this. I’d never even thought about it. There might have been an uncomfortable, even scary, aspect to it, but Max did it with great skill. Totally in control, and totally focused on our pleasure.

His hips rocked back and forth, then in an almost circular motion, as his cock filled me and touched every part of my swollen core.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled.

He lowered his head to my chest and took a nipple into his mouth. He sucked it in softly, but then pressed his lips together, teasing and pulling my nipple to its full hardness. Max looked at it, licked it, and then gave the same attention to the other one.

He let my hands go and he placed his hands on either side of me. I reached up and felt his upper arms flex. They held his weight as he fucked me harder. Max was almost fierce in his thrusts. His breathing was getting deeper and shorter.

He was stroking pleasure into me as he stroked himself to his own pleasure. I wanted him to get off on it and have the best orgasm he’d ever had.

He kissed me again, taking my tongue into his mouth and then sucking on it. The intensity of his fucking increased and I started making little noises into his mouth, which only made him move his hips with more force.

I felt his cock throbbing, pulsating, getting closer to coming. My hands were tightly clenching his upper arms and I felt his muscles grow tighter. I looked up and saw him tilt his head back. Then he faced me again, took my lips in a wild kiss and said, “I’m going to come inside you, Olivia.”

I’d never been fucked like this before. Never had a man so determined to fuck me like this. Never had a guy talk to me so sweetly and so dirty at the same time. I’d never been turned on this much and it made me want to give Max whatever he wanted.

“Do you want it?” he breathed.

“Yes, come. I want you to come so bad.”

It was hard to get the words out. He was taking my breath away, literally. I gasped and shook as I began to feel another orgasm rising within me from the point where Max’s thick cock was rubbing against me in perfect rhythm.

“Fuck…” His voice was low and breathy.

I felt him tense up. His thrusts slowed almost to a stop. Then he plunged back into me, deep, and moved his hips vigorously as he pumped into the condom.

“Jesus, Olivia,” he was saying as he came.

He lowered his body onto me and held me tight. I loved the weight of his body on mine, his exhaustion a result of his harsh lust for me.

We lay like that for a few moments, and then Max repositioned us both so that I was lying next to him on the big, wide couch, with my arms crossed on his chest and my head resting on them, looking at the face of this man who wanted me so badly.

EIGHT

We must have stayed there on the couch for about thirty minutes, basking the glow of what we’d just done.

“That was amazing,” Max said.

“The best.”

I wasn’t lying. It was indeed the best sex I’d ever had, no doubt due to him being the hottest guy I’d ever been with, and the way he did it—taking control, taking me.

I didn’t know what was going to come next. I really had no expectations, but what did end up happening was a shock.

“Are you ready?” he said.

I looked at him with a smile on my face. “That depends. I’m wiped out from what we just did.” I laughed, and in a few seconds, I would regret it.

“You can rest on the way. I’ll make sure you get inside okay.”

What? He was taking me home. I didn’t want to ask why, and feeling more than overwhelmed by the development, I probably wasn’t in the right frame of mind to have the conversation. On top of that, what was I going to do? Beg him to let me stay there?

We barely spoke on the drive back to LA. The longer we were in the car, the more I felt hurt, used, and cheap. I wondered where my name would be on the roster of other women he’d brought home, fucked so passionately, and then dismissed.

When we got to my place he said, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“No, you don’t have to. Really.” I gathered my purse and reached for the door handle.

“Olivia, hang on a second.” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his face. He kissed the back of it and said, “Thank you for an incredible evening.”

I produced the best fake smile I could and quickly got out of the car without saying anything. I made my way up the walkway, got to the door, put the key in the lock…all without turning around to look at him sitting there in his car. It took an amount of willpower I didn’t know I possessed to do that.

I stepped inside and immediately went to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and the tears started flowing.

How could I have been so stupid? So gullible? Why had I let my guard down? Why had I let a man use and control me like that?Fuck! I knew better!

All the negative thoughts I used to have, after Chris, came thundering back into my mind. I blamed myself for everything that had happened that night, just as I’d blamed myself for letting myself become so vulnerable to Chris Cooper.

What Chris had done was a far cry from what Max had just done to me, but it was all about letting myself be vulnerable—something that’s always fraught with danger, which is what makes it such a powerful act, but something I just wasn’t ready to do again, and look what happened.

I got myself together emotionally and left the bathroom. Maybe Krystal was still up, and she’d let me vent my frustrations. There’d probably be a big “I told you so” to deal with, but at that moment I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to be alone.

When I got to her room, I found that she wasn’t there.

Great. I was alone.

I thought of calling Grace, but it was getting close to one o’clock in the morning here in LA, so it was really late in Ohio. There was no way I could call her. Maybe it was for the best that I couldn’t talk to my sister right now.

Physical and emotional exhaustion brought sleep. Quickly, thank God. I needed the rest.

What I didn’t need, though, was the dream: I’m standing with my back to the wall, and he has me trapped. He’s backlit, and all I can see is his silhouette, standing about two feet in front of me. I have no escape. My body shakes with fear. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. I could try to run, but I know he’d catch me. I see the silhouette’s right shoulder dip and pull back. Then the more frightening thing I’d ever seen: he has made a fist and he’s cocking his arm back for the punch, level with my face.

I woke up, thankful that it was only a dream, that I haven’t been hit, and the only damage done was to my sheets as I lay there soaking in a cold sweat.

Damn Max. No, damn me for letting my guard down and letting another into my safety zone.

People say I have put up a wall after the incident with Chris. But what they don’t know is that it’s more than a wall. It’s a fortress. There’s a moat around it, and the water below is filled with alligators. There’s a drawbridge with tripwires that will flare up with great bursts of fire if a man tries to cross it.

So how the hell had Max Dalton gotten inside the fortress?

I stripped the bed of the soaked sheets, and took off my clothes. I laid back down, naked, on the naked bed, and thankfully sleep came once again…this time without a dream.

When I woke in the morning, there was still no sign of Krystal, but my car was there. I’d been hoping she would let me unload on her.

I ended up not seeing her for the rest of the weekend. I texted her a few times, but got no response. I knew I couldn’t call Grace and tell her everything. And when Sunday rolled around—the day I always called my parents and checked in—I didn’t feel like talking to them. I sent an email instead, feigning a cold with a sore throat, and apologizing for not being able to talk. My dad wrote back within thirty minutes, relaying my mom’s best home remedy for a sore throat. I felt bad for lying to them, but I just couldn’t talk to them right then. I had no choice.

I spent the weekend alone, watching things I’d put in my Netflix queue.

In a way, I both dreaded and looked forward to Monday morning equally. I knew I couldn’t skip work, no matter how badly I wanted to avoid looking like something was wrong and having Kevin ask me about it. The flipside of the coin was that I’d have something aside from streaming movies to focus on, and not think about how stupid I’d been to go that far with Max.

Kevin called shortly after I opened the office and told me he’d be out all day. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could ease back into my work for a day.

I finally got in touch with Krystal when eating my lunch salad at my desk.

“How was your weekend?” she asked.

“Okay.”

“What happened with Max?”

The floodgates opened and I told her the whole story.

When I was finished she said, “What an ass! See, this is what I was telling you to be ready for.”

“I know, I know.” I didn’t want a lecture.

“And he didn’t call you all weekend?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, forget him,” she said. “I know you have a working relationship with him and all, but just keep it at that.”

I didn’t say anything.

Krystal said, “So…was it good?”

I sighed. “Best ever.”

She chuckled. “Okay, so you just chalk it up as the best sex ever and move on. Gotta keep moving in this town.”

“Speaking of which, what were you doing all weekend?”

“Oh, God. I met these two guys…” She went on to tell me the story of spending the weekend with two men, complete with the raunchy details of her first threesome.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said.

“Nope.”

“Damn. And here I was thinking you were working and I just kept missing you or something.” It wasn’t really what I thought. How would I have missed her between shifts? I was starting to figure out that Krystal had some kind of wild and quite unique lifestyle. And I was starting to puzzle together that her lifestyle didn’t involve working in a restaurant and going to auditions. But I didn’t want to pry. Not yet, anyway.

We didn’t talk any more about it for the rest of the week. I only saw her on Wednesday night, anyway, and just for a few minutes as I was heading off to bed when she got home.

I called my parents for a few minutes on Tuesday to let them know I was doing better, working, and everything else was going fine. Grace happened to be there when I called and we talked for a few minutes.

She lowered her voice at one point and said, “I ran into Chris at the gas station.”

Hearing his name sent a shiver down my spine and brought back the imagery of the dream I’d had over the weekend.

“I don’t even want to know.”

“Well,” she said, “he wanted to know about you.”

“What did you tell him?”

There was a pause. Total silence.

“Grace? What did you tell him?” I asked, a stern tone in my words.

“I told him you moved to California.”

“Uh huh. And?”

I heard a door close, and then it sounded like wind wooshing across the phone. She’d gone outside to get out of earshot of our parents.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it was stupid. I just wanted him to know that you were doing fine, and even better, without him. I wanted to make him feel like crap.”

I gritted my teeth. “If he calls here—”

“He’s not going to find out where you work. LA is huge, right?”

I leaned back in my chair. I didn’t want to argue about this. “You still shouldn’t have told him anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“But,” I said, “I do want that asshole to know I’m not crushed without him. It’s kind of my only sense of…victory or something, you know?”

We got past that little issue and she caught me up on the baby and other things going on in our little hometown. For the first time, and rather strangely, I felt a little tug of nostalgia. Not quite homesickness. Not yet, anyway. I figured it was simply an easy fantasy escape coping mechanism to deal with the fact that I hadn’t really adjusted to the hustle and bustle of LA and Hollywood yet. Kind of a yearning for the slower, simpler times.

NINE

There was nothing slow or simple about the way the rest of the week played out.

When I got home Wednesday after work, I found two dozen red roses on my doorstep, along with a card that said: Sorry I’ve been so busy. Thinking of you and want to see you again soon. I’ll call. – M

My initial thought was gratitude that he’d had the sense not to send it to my office.

My second thought was how to tell him I just wasn’t ready for something so intense, especially something fraught with so much possibility of letdowns.

I had come to the conclusion that I wasn’t ready to date. Nor was I ready for a fuck buddy. And I really wasn’t—and might never be—ready for a high-intensity relationship with someone like Max.

My self-esteem kept chiming in and telling me I wasn’t pretty enough, rich enough, or sophisticated enough for someone like Max. The really depressing thing was that I felt like I was only good enough for someone like Chris Cooper. He’d done a real number on me, and while I had been able to break away from it for a while and enjoy the powerful seduction of Max, I was still drawn back to that self-defeating belief.

It seemed like a nearly impossible thing to admit to him, but there was a part of me that figured once he heard even half the story he would probably be gone in the blink of an eye.

So be it.

He called around 8 p.m. that night. I was putting some clothes in the washer when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and let it go to voicemail. I heard no voicemail alert, and then the phone rang again.

I took a deep breath and answered it.

He said, “Hey, babe.”

Babe? I might have taken that as a cute term of endearment had the situation been different, and had I not talked myself into this frenzy of doubt over being his latest score.

“Max, I—”

“Before you say anything, I’m on the way over.”

“What?”

“I’m about ten minutes away from your place. Thought I’d stop by.”

“I wish you’d called before,” I said.

“I just did, but you didn’t answer.”

“You know what I mean.”

Screw it. I might not be ready for the talk, but it had to happen sooner or later. And since he was on his way over, it looked like this was going to happen sooner.

Ten minutes later, just as he’d promised, Max knocked on my door.

When I opened it, he somehow looked even better than he had before. Or maybe it was just my subconscious reminding me what I was about to do—tell this gorgeous, rich man to take a hike because I couldn’t deal with the jealousy, distrust, and doubt.

He wore black slacks, with a blue button-down shirt. Simple. Understated. But damn, so sexy on him. He had one hand on the doorjamb, the other behind his back, striking a relaxed pose.

After our phone call, I had rushed into my room and changed out of my ratty sweatpants and t-shirt, back into the clothes I’d worn to work that day. It may seem kind of silly, trying to look my best and not wanting him to see me so casual, when this was going to be the last time we’d ever be around each other casually. From this point on, it would be all business. And that’s why the professional attire worked.

“Ready for work?” he said, going for light-hearted.

I forced a smile. “We need to talk.”

I moved aside and he stepped across the threshold. “Those are never good words.”

As he moved past me, Max brought his hand around from behind his back and produced a bottle of wine. Great. He’d come here thinking that we’d have a few glasses of wine, loosen up, and have a roll in the sack.

“Your favorite,” he said.

I looked at it for a second but made no move to take it.

“What’s wrong, Olivia?”

I looked down at the floor. “Let’s sit down.”

He followed me into the den. I sat in a chair as Max took a seat on the couch. He put the bottle of wine on top of a magazine on the coffee table. “Not even going to sit beside me?”

“Max…I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“If it’s a bad time—”

“No.” I sighed, dropping my head into my hands. Breathe, Olivia. Gather your strength and get this over with. “I can’t do this. Us. What we’re doing. I’m sorry.” My words were coming out in nearly incoherent sputtering.

“Is this about the other night?”

I nodded. “But not the sex. It was the brush-off.”

“I wasn’t brushing you off.”

“Max, please. Let me finish.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

I took a slow, deep breath. “I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did. It was my fault. I should have trusted my instincts.” I looked down at my hand as though examining my fingernails, then looked back up at him. “There’s something you don’t know about me. I have some…baggage, to put it mildly. Things that happened before I moved here. I’m not ready for a relationship, or dating, or any of this.”

Max leaned back on the sofa and put his arms behind his head. “Tell me.”

“I just told you.”

“Tell me what happened,” he pleaded.

“I don’t want to go into it. The details aren’t important.”

He sat forward quickly, then got on the floor on one knee. It was too close to looking like a proposal.

“Don’t,” I said, sliding back on the chair.

He put his hand on my knee. “We all have baggage, Olivia. You think I took you home the other night for no reason?”

“What do you mean?”

“Baggage. I have it, too.”

I looked at him through the tears that were welling up in my eyes. “Tell me.”

He gave me a half-smile. “I asked first.”

I laughed.

“I’ll tell you,” he said. “And I’ll go first. I’ll share with you if you share with me.”

“Okay.”

He sat on the floor, extended his long legs out, and leaned back on his hands. “I’m not going to lie; I’ve had my share of flings. All Hollywood cliché bullshit. All of it. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a single person in this town who’s real. I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that everyone here is playing some part in their own little film of their life. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a meaningful conversation with a woman?”

I shook my head.

“Me either,” he said. “I gave up trying to remember the last time. The worst part is, everyone’s after something. A part in a movie. Money. Being seen on a red carpet. It doesn’t matter what it is, if I have it, someone wants it, and there’s no shortage of women who’ll do anything to get it. I’ve played the game long enough. It’s not interesting anymore. There’s no challenge, no mystery, no romance.”

“Wow.”

He was speaking with such conviction, he almost looked pissed off about it.

“I’m not even doing what I love anymore,” he said.

“Making movies? But you’re at the top now.”

He threw his head back, and I felt kind of silly, like I’d missed something. And I had.

“That’s a whole different issue for another time. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“But I want to know,” I said, getting on the floor next to him. God, I wanted to know. What was in the mind and heart of this man?

He shook his head. “It’s not important right now. What is important is that now you know why I didn’t let you get too close to me. Do you see this like I do? What we did was amazing. Mind-blowing, actually. But there’s something more to having someone stay in your bed overnight.”

“I do see it like that. But—”

“Wait. I know what you’re going to say. You’re not like the girls I just described. I know that now. Hell, I knew it then. But it’s almost a reflex now. I shouldn’t have done that. And I’m sorry I handled it like that with you.”

We were silent for a moment. I wanted to kiss him, but more than that, I wanted him to kiss me. He didn’t.

“Now,” he said. “Unload your baggage. We had a deal.”

“I know.” I took a breath. “I had a relationship with a guy for three years, back in Ohio. I was headed down the same road as my mom and my sister—find a guy, get married, have kids. I found the guy, but it turned out he found other girls, too.”

Max frowned.

“Three of them, to be exact,” I said. “I found out about the first two at the same time. Before I got up the nerve to confront him, I found out about the third. That’s when I told him I was done, it was over, so long, all that.”

“It didn’t go well,” Max said, as if he already knew, but there was no way he could know. He just guessed there was a lot more.

I let out a deep sigh. “Not well at all. I’d never seen him so angry. I wasn’t scared of him, but I didn’t want to see him ever again. I stopped going out with my friends because I thought I’d run into him. I’d go to the mall and be nervous that he’d be there and we’d have an argument. He was calling me all the time, leaving messages, texting, pretty much begging me to forgive him. He came to our house one night—I was living at home—and my father had to call the police to get rid of him. It was getting that bad.”

“Stalker.”

“Yep. So, anyway, he shows up at my house one day when my parents aren’t there. I’m at the kitchen table getting resumes and cover letters together. Regular day. And then he just walks in. Right into the kitchen, through the door that leads to the backyard.”

Max sat forward, closer to me. “Jesus, Olivia.”

I got a little choked up talking about it again. Max put his hand on my leg and gave it a light, comforting squeeze.

“So,” I said, battling back the tears, “he’s saying he just wants to talk and I’m telling him to leave. He refuses. I stand up and yell at him to leave, telling him I’m going to call the police. That’s when he moved around the table before I could even process what was happening. He backed me up against the wall and said—I’ll never forget these words—he said, ‘I’ll never let you love anyone else.’ And I said, ‘I don’t love you.’”

Max’s eyebrows rose. For a split second, I thought how surprising that was. Here was a writer, a story-teller, successful maker of movies, riveted by my story.

I needed to get the story over with. I hated thinking about it, much less talking about it. “That’s when he raised his fist and cocked his arm back, like he was about to punch me in the face. God, the anger I saw in his eyes…it was terrifying. I’d never seen that in him before. I’d never seen that in anyone.”

“Did he hit you, Olivia?”

I shook my head. “No. I just crumbled right there in front of him. Fell right to the floor, hysterically crying. I don’t know if that’s what stopped him or what. I just stayed on the floor and after a minute or so, I saw his shoes turn the other way and he left. Just walked out. Didn’t say anything.”

Max moved closer and put his arm around me.

I said, “You’re only the second person I’ve told.”

He lowered his head to my shoulder and kissed it. Then he looked up, put a finger under my chin and turned my face toward his. “I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, about how I handled the other night.”

“Oh, well, that is your fault.” I smiled.

Thankfully, Max had a sense of humor and took my sarcasm in stride.

We were silent for a few moments and then he had the best idea I’d heard in a long time.

“I’m not going to ask to stay here, or ask you to come home with me. I’m going to leave, and tomorrow I’ll pick you up, we’ll go on a date—a real date, our first one—and we’ll make all of this right. Like it’s all new. How does that sound?”

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close. “Perfect.”

“Good. Are you okay after that talk? Okay to be by yourself?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

We moved toward the door. While it was a little strange with him leaving after we’d opened up to each other on such a deeply personal level, it was also thrilling. The anticipation of a real date with Max Dalton was taking over the sadness of having to tell my story. Somehow, Max knew exactly the right thing for us to do next if we were going to move forward.

He stopped at the door, took me in his arms and kissed me sweetly.

“Just one thing,” I said. “After what we did on your couch the other day, I’m not sure everything will be so new.”

Max grinned to match my teasing facial expression. In the sexiest tone he said, “Oh, you just wait.” And with that, he opened the door and left.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to wait. I felt more for this man after our conversation, and I wanted to be close to him. I wanted him inside me, filling me.

I needed distraction, so I chose the thing I hated the most and started doing some laundry. I’d let it pile up too long and a chore was the best alternative for sitting around and replaying all that had happened.

But I wished Max was there.

And ten minutes later my heart did a little flutter when I heard a knock at the door. Had I willed him to turn around and come back? Had I wished into existence the sight of him standing in my doorway, telling me he wanted to stay the night?

I got to the door and couldn’t unlock it fast enough. I stopped just before opening it, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, but couldn’t stop the ear-to-ear smile on my face.

I opened the door and the fluttering in my heart turned to a pounding—a scary thumping in my ears and throat, my body’s instant fight or flight reaction to the sight of Chris standing there.

What felt like hours couldn’t have even been minutes. It could only have been mere seconds until he spoke.

“Hear me out.”

That’s all he said. I stood there stunned, my mouth going dry, my heart still thundering in my chest. I didn’t say anything.

“Look, Olivia, I know this might seem strange—”

“You’re goddamn right it is.” I started to close the door, but he stuck his foot in the way too fast. I quickly reached up and fastened the chain. It wasn’t a very good barrier, but it was my only choice at the moment. “I swear to God I’ll call the police if you don’t leave.”

He didn’t move. “Just hear me out, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? For stalking me? For freaking out on me? For almost hitting me? For stalking me all the way out here? Go away. Forever!”

I pushed on the door, trying to make him move his foot, but he didn’t budge.

“I drove all the way here to talk to you. I’m not going away until you talk to me.”

“You’re going away,” the voice said.

Through the narrow opening in the door, I saw Chris look to his left. “Who the hell are you?”

Chris was suddenly gone. In a flash I saw Max’s body shove him out of the way. I unchained the door and poked my head out. Max and Chris were on the sidewalk. Max was getting the better of him. One punch to the face and Chris seemed dazed.

Max rose from the ground, pulling Chris up with him. Max looked at me. “Chris, right?”

I nodded.

The front of Chris’s shirt was bunched in Max’s fists. Max shook him and threw him against the wall, then moved to stand in front of him.

I peered around the corner so I could see them again.

Chris said, “You broke my nose.”

“You’re lucky.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Max said, “I’m the guy who’s going to make it my mission to destroy your pathetic fucking life if you don’t leave Olivia alone.”

Chris covered his face with one hand. Blood was running down his wrist. For once, Chris was telling the truth—Max really had broken his nose.

“Do you understand me?”

Chris looked at his bloody hand.

Max raised his fist and drew it back behind his head. “Does this look familiar?”

Chris looked at me. I kept my eyes trained on Max.

“Do you understand?” Max repeated.

Chris said, “Is this your boyfriend or something?”

I didn’t say anything.

Max made a move like he was going to release the punch, but he didn’t have time.

Chris put his hands up in front of him. “All right. Jesus, man! I’ll go!” Chris started to walk away, backwards down the walkway, as if he were afraid to let Max get behind him. There’s nothing like the sight of a frightened bully.

Max watched him as he got to the end of the sidewalk, then walked down there himself and saw to it that Chris got in his car and left.

When Max got back to my door he said, “I’m taking you with me.”

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged. “How did you know he was here?”

“I got out to the parking lot and saw a guy sitting in a car looking at the building. When I drove past, I saw the Ohio plates. Your ex-boyfriend is a moron, Olivia.”

“I can stay here. I don’t think he’ll be coming back after—”

“Please don’t argue with me about this. I want you by my side tonight. Pack an overnight bag and come with me.”

TEN

During the drive to his house, it dawned on me to let Krystal know what had happened. If she was going to be alone in the apartment I had to let her know the details. I got her voicemail and hung up. Ten minutes later, when we were almost to Max’s place, I called again and left a message, then texted her so she’d be sure to get the info.

I mentioned to Max what a strange lifestyle Krystal seemed to have—disappearing for days on end, hardly ever home to begin with, and when she is home she more often than not has a different guy with her.

Max just shrugged it off. “The important thing is, you’re with me.”

I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder until we got to his house.

Once inside he said, “I have six bedrooms.”

“No need to brag.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t bragging.”

“I know.”

I appreciated the gesture. He was letting me know I could sleep anywhere I wanted. “I think it’s very gentlemanly of you to give me the option. So does that mean I can do what I want?”

“Absolutely.”

During one of our talks, he’d mentioned that he had a movie theater in his house. I had laughed at the time, and he said he was serious—it wasn’t a full-size theater, but it sat twenty people and that’s where he watched dailies and screened movies for friends.

“I want to see this theater you told me about.”

He smiled, took my hand, and led me to a door just off the den. We walked down a flight of stairs and, sure enough, there it was: a miniature theater.

“Don’t tell me you want to watch a movie,” he said.

“No, I had something else in mind.”

We were standing between the screen and the first row of seats. My back was to the screen; Max was facing me, with a seat just a foot or so behind him. I put my hand flat on his chest and pushed. The backs of his knees touched the chair, and he sat.

Max’s eyes squinted, like he was trying to figure out what had gotten into me. That, or he knew, and he was turned on by me showing how much I wanted him.

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Olivia…” His voice faded out.

I shook my head. “Don’t try to stop me.”

I unfastened his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and unzipped them, all while keeping eye contact with Max. I loved watching the thrill in his eyes.

I slid my hand into his boxers and felt him get harder under my touch. I stroked him, feeling his length and girth growing. He was hard and warm.

“I want you, Olivia.”

I shook my head. “Uh-uh. This is payback for that afternoon in your office, Mister.”

I lowered his pants and freed his erection. It sprang out and stood before me, long and thick, the visible veins flooded to make it so hard.

Without using my hands, I lowered my head and took the head into my mouth.

Max groaned.

My lips puckered and caressed the plump crown. I held the tip in my mouth and made little circles with my tongue.

I put my hand on his chest and felt the vibration when he moaned deeply.

I released the head, and ran my tongue down his impressive length, feeling every contour of his cock. I ran my tongue along the base of it from below, and then around the top, his erection under my chin and touching my neck. I licked up the top side of it, back to the head, where I took him into my mouth again and eased him in as far as it would go.

“Jesus, Olivia. You’re making me crazy.”

I moaned as my sucking picked up speed. My head bobbed in his lap and I felt his hand gently cup the side of my head. He ran his fingers around the edge of my ear, sending a shiver down my neck, making my nipples hard.

Max’s thumb was on my cheek. His cock was halfway in my mouth, and my head was lolling from side to side, a sort of twisting motion. His thumb moved to the edge of my mouth, then traced the outline of my lips. He was feeling his cock sliding in and out of my mouth.

I looked up and watched his facial expressions—his mouth in the shape of an O, his eyes half-closed under lids heavy with the fog of pleasure, and the way he tilted his head to get a different view.

His hand left my face and rested on the arm of the chair. He reclined a little farther back.

“I’m sure you’ve had lots of these in here,” I said, stroking him just with my hand. I purposely said it as a statement, but meant it as a question.

“Never.”

“Never in here, or never…”

His answer came out almost just as a breath: “Never in a movie theater.”

I’d been a little worried about not being enough for Max, considering he was a little older and certainly had more experience than me. The thought that I was able to be a first for him at anything was thrilling.

I took him in my mouth again.

“No hands,” he said.

The commanding tone in his voice would have been enough to get me wet if I hadn’t already been so turned on. But this was all about Max right now.

I put both hands on his thighs. His cock was standing free, my mouth sealed around the head. I could taste the first droplet of pre-cum.

Max started moving his hips, stroking himself across my lips and tongue. I loved that I could make him move that way. His cock grew thicker, swelling in response to the sensation of fucking my mouth.

I concentrated on his pleasure—swirling my tongue across the head of his cock as he thrust into my mouth, tightening my lips around him.

I heard Max’s breathing get heavy and deep. I looked up and saw him staring intently at my face.

“Olivia…”

I moved my head with more intensity, his cock slipping across my tongue. I was driven to pull every drop of bliss from him.

Max’s hand was again on the side of my head. His fingers combed deep into my hair.

“I’m close to coming.”

I wanted it. Badly. Wanted to feel, taste, and swallow, as though it was another way of experiencing his power.

Max stopped thrusting. I felt his cock twitch and begin to pulsate. Then a thick stream of semen, and another.

“Ah, God….”

I looked at his face, but his head was thrown back against the headrest.

He kept coming, as though he hadn’t in a while and the release would never end.

The way his body reacted to me, the words and noises he spoke, his every response to the way I made him come was the most pleasing thing I could have had that night.

I cleaned him with my tongue, and when I was finished I tucked him back into his pants. He was still semi-hard.

“Don’t put it away,” he said. “We’re not done yet.”

“Oh yes we are.”

He looked at me quizzically. “I want to make you come, Olivia.”

I shook my head with a little smile on my face as I zipped up his pants. “I know you do, but I’m not going to let you. I told you this is payback for that little number you did on me in your office.”

“You didn’t have to pay me back, as you put it.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” I stood. “Now, come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

I loved the fact that he wanted to get me off. But what I loved more was the knowledge that I could give to him while at the same time taking what I wanted. Besides, I knew the next time we had sex he’d probably blow my mind.

Max rose to his feet and pressed his mouth to mine. It was the first time a guy had kissed me after getting a blowjob. In my experience—which wasn’t all that much, admittedly—guys wouldn’t go anywhere near a girl’s mouth after they came in it. But Max was different. So very different.

I had to break away from the kiss because it carried the great risk of getting me all worked up and then I’d fall prey to his seduction. And I really did want this to be all about him.

“Let’s go.” I ran across the theater floor, like a little kid again, and made my way up the steps.

Max was right behind me, saying, “You amaze me, you know that?”

Later, as I got into his bed, I began to worry about the incident with Chris.

Max and I were lying on our sides, facing each other.

“What if he sues you?” I asked.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know? You’re worth…what, millions? Why wouldn’t he?”

Max ran a finger along my cheek. “Everything would come out. He won’t take that risk.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Relax. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“If that’s true,” I said, “then why did you insist that I stay here with you?”

“It was spur of the moment, with everything that happened. But now it’s convenient because tomorrow we’re going to do something I know you’ve never done.”

“What’s that?”

The possibilities were endless with Max Dalton. It would have been a waste of time and energy to even begin to guess what he had in mind.

“I’m taking you somewhere for the weekend,” he said. “We’ll stop by your place in the morning and pick up whatever you need.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” I said. “I mean, I hate the suspense.”

“Remember the last time I told you I had a surprise?”

Remember? How could I forget? He’d whisked me away and I had the best sex of my life that night.

“Refresh my memory,” I said, faking a frown.

Max just smiled. “Very funny.”

He fell asleep before I did. I had my back to him and he held me tightly. I listened to his deep, even breathing. I was exhausted, but I wanted to stay awake and crystallize this feeling forever in my mind.

It felt good. It felt right.

At least for a little while….

~~~

Olivia and Max’s story continues in the

emotional and steamy sequel in the FADE series…

FADE INTO ME

available August 28, 2012

~~~

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@katedawes

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