I sit on the edge of the bed and lean down to unfasten the ankle straps on my high-heeled sandals.
"Later," Max says, stopping me.
"Later? How much later?" I know we've been in bed, not walking around, but my feet are tired and I really want to get these shoes off.
"I want you wearing them when I bend you over the conference table."
My mouth goes dry, and a shiver runs through my entire body. I forget all about my tired feet.
Max reaches out for my hand and I get up, letting him pull me along to the area I noticed earlier where a conference table and chairs are set up. I don't know why my heart is pounding so crazy. We just had sex. Probably—no, absolutely—the best sex I've ever had.
I should be sated and sleepy.
Instead, I already want more.
We stop at the entrance to the conference area and I stare at the smooth surface of the table. There are six executive chairs, upholstered in rich leather. "Is this where you play poker?"
"I play poker in the high stakes room in the casino. This is where we've been holding meetings."
"Who is we?"
"Some people I have business dealings with," he says vaguely. We move forward until we're standing at the end of the conference table. Max tosses a couple of condoms I didn't realize he was holding onto one of the chairs.
"Just think," Max says, "a few hours ago there was a meeting going on here, and this table was littered with food and whiskey glasses."
I try to imagine the people sitting around the table, but my mind can only conjure up Al Pacino and the actors in all the mafia movies I've ever seen. There's no evidence now that anyone else was in the suite, much less shady people conducting probably shady business deals right here in this alcove.
"So where did it all go? All the stuff from your meeting?" I ask, turning to face him and trying to ignore the fact that I'm standing here completely naked, wearing what apparently Max considers to be a pair of very sexy shoes. Since he won't let me take them off.
My breasts tingle again. I know without looking down that my nipples are erect, and that Max can tell how aroused I am.
But instead of feeling embarrassed, I feel powerful.
Max is naked too, and apparently has amazing recuperative powers because he's already hard again. He rolls a condom on and answers me matter-of-factly.
"Housekeeping and concierge services at this level are instantly available to make any kind of mess disappear."
I have the sudden irreverent thought that I wonder if they make bodies disappear as well, since I'm pretty sure the people Max is meeting with are that kind of connected.
Then another thought hits me and I whirl, looking toward the door of the suite.
"Wait, they aren't going to just come in here, are they?" I might like to imagine a room full of wise guys in my fantasies, but in real life I don't want anyone—including hotel staff—catching Max and me naked, much less having sex.
"I set the door on Do Not Disturb," he reminds me, then takes hold of my shoulders and turns me around. "Now stop wasting time and bend over the table."
His voice has this undercurrent of authority of a man who is accustomed to people doing exactly what he says. What it's doing to me is making me hot.
I lean over, running my hands on the smooth wood surface.
"Brace yourself on your elbows, Hadley," Max directs, and I do, knowing full well that with my upper body lowered like this and still wearing my heels, my bottom is angled up, tilting me forward. I feel really vulnerable in this position. I look up and only then notice the large ornate mirror on the opposite wall.
I can see myself, and Max standing behind me.
"There isn't a camera on the other side of that, is there?" I ask jokingly, trying to relieve my nerves with humor.
"No," Max says, seriously. "I checked."
"I was kidding," I tell him.
"I'm not. Gabe went through the whole suite, as well as checking what's adjacent, to make sure. It's secure."
Who does he think would set up cameras, or a wiretap? Some organized crime rival? The FBI?
Before I can say anything else, Max runs his palm lightly over my bottom, and I freeze.
Then his hand keeps moving around my side and up to my breast, pinching my nipple a little roughly, but not too much. He braces his other hand on the table, and I feel the hard length of him pressing against me.
"For a moment there," I say, trying for a light teasing tone but not really succeeding, "I thought you were going to spank me."
"When I spank you," he murmurs softly, leaning over me so his breath is on my neck, "you'll be over my knee, held firmly in place until I'm done."
"What makes you think I'd like that?"
But my center is throbbing. I'm pretty sure I would like that, as long as it isn't too intense. It's like Max is bringing out this whole different side of me.
"What makes you think you won't?" He slips his hand between my legs while his other hand continues to run over my breasts. It's obvious the moment he touches me that I'm wet and ready for him. "Remember, Hadley, if you don't like anything I'm doing, all you ever have to do is say no."
Max straightens, nudges my legs a little more apart with his knee, and then enters me in one hard thrust, taking my breath away. He pulls back and then thrusts again, even harder.
"I like what you're doing right now," I manage.
I glance up at the mirror and realize Max is watching us, too. His hands find my hips, positioning me exactly how he wants me.
He pauses for a moment, stares directly at my reflection in the mirror.
"This is what I'll be thinking about tomorrow when I'm sitting right here, pretending to pay attention while they drag out every point in this deal. I'll be thinking about you, naked and bent over the table, and me, taking whatever I want. Taking you, faster and faster until you come so hard you can't stop screaming my name."
"Do it," I manage to gasp. "Take me right now, Max. Don't hold back."
And then I see it. In the mirror. What Max looks like when his veneer of control slips away. His fingers dig into my hips and he slams into me, hips pumping hard, his skin slapping against mine. His face is determined, his brilliant blue eyes dark with passion.
He looks like a man who could do dangerous things.
I look like a woman possessed. My hair is wild and flying free while my body jerks forward and back. I'm sweating, gasping, mumbling words that don't make sense even to me.
In the bed, we made love. This isn't that. This is primitive. Feral. Out of control.
When he changes the angle again and moves his hand between us, pressing my clit hard with his thumb, I come screaming his name. His pressure on my clit is as relentless as his hips pounding himself into me, going even harder as I spiral.
Max pulls out, and I slump onto the table, spent, only to be grabbed back up and spun around.
"Do you think I'm done with you already?" Max asks, his voice a low growl.
He rips open another condom packet, removes the old one and sheaths himself again. He lifts me up onto the edge of the table, and before I can even get my legs around him, he's back inside me, this time stroking slow and deep.
I moan and fall back on the table while Max's hands slide up my body and close over my breasts. This new angle has his shaft rubbing against my clit with every stroke. When he starts to increase the pace, I feel the tension building quickly. I want my hands on him, but all I can do is make empty fists where my arms are resting on the table.
"Why can't I get enough of you?" Max asks, and I don't answer. Because I can't get enough of him either, and I have no idea why.
He's on the edge now, holding himself back with a visible effort until he takes me over again. I surprise myself by coming even harder than I did a few minutes ago. It's like free falling off the edge of the world.
This time, he goes with me.
***
I wake up groggy and a little disoriented, my legs tangled in the thick comforter.
Max. I'm in Las Vegas with Max.
The fog over my brain starts to lift. I look around the bedroom.
So where is he?
After the conference table last night, Max carried me back here and filled the whirlpool tub with hot water, poured in some scented bath salts and bubble bath, and turned on the jets. Then he lifted me in and slipped in behind me. It felt wonderful on my aching muscles—and other parts of me that are a little sore.
It's been awhile since I had sex, but I think I made up for it in one night.
His hands—wielding a thick, soapy washcloth—explored every inch of my body. It was a whole other experience altogether. And I finally had my chance to trace each sinewy muscle, slide over all that smooth skin, and find the places where my touch made his eyes darken with pleasure. Discover what it would take to make Max Bennet moan.
Afterward, when we finally went back to bed, I fell asleep in his arms.
The dangerous side of Max draws me to him, even while I know this is risky and I should stay away. I'm a lawyer just starting to build my career in Miami. Being connected on a personal level to a man who may well be carrying forward the organized crime activities of his infamous father could derail that career before it ever really gets off the ground.
This can only be temporary fun. I have to keep my head and know when it's time to end it. But the tender side Max sometimes reveals poses far more of a threat to me.
That Max makes me wonder how hard it will be to walk away.
I slip into one of the silky signature robes in the closet and wander out into the main living area. Max sits at a small round table in one of the straight-back chairs, talking on his cell phone.
Unlike me, Max is dressed already, and he has his business face on. He sees me and waves me over, but I stop by the floor to ceiling windows and look out over the Strip, then down at the sparkling fountain far below.
Max ends his call quietly and comes up behind me, putting his arms around me. I lean back against him and we look out at the view together.
Silently, he unties the belt of my robe. It falls open in the front. I'm naked underneath and he slides his hands up to cup both my breasts, using his thumbs to tease my nipples.
"What are you doing, Max?"
"I think that should be fairly obvious," Max says, lowering his head and nipping my ear gently.
"I'm still sore from last night," I say, not sure if I'm ready for anything particularly robust this morning.
"We'll take it easy. I have a meeting in a little while. I'm sending you off shopping and to the casino for most of the day." His lips move over the side of my neck, sending delicious shivers through me.
"I want to make sure I give you something to think about while we're apart," Max says.
He slides the robe down off my shoulders and lets it pool on the floor, then he picks me up and carries me back to the club chair he was using, settling me in his lap.
The fact that he's fully dressed again while I'm completely naked isn't lost on me.
"We seem to be making a habit of this," I tell him.
"What?" Max moves one hand away from my breast and travels it slowly down my body. I realize too late the he was using his knee to keep my legs apart, as his fingers find their target and he begins stroking me.
"You keeping all your clothes on while taking all my clothes off," I explain.
"Hmm. I remember both of us naked last night."
Just thinking about last night, coupled with the easy, almost absent-minded way he's playing with my breast and my clit has an orgasm already starting to build.
"I don't have time for a full round this morning," Max continues matter-of-factly while I get closer and closer to the edge. I wiggle a little on his lap, trying to control the movement of his hand, but find myself pretty much helpless.
How does he always manage to get me in exactly the position he wants?
The arm that's wrapped around me holds me firmly in place while still managing to have free play with my nipples, now aching under his touch. The other hand—I can't even think about what the other hand is doing. It makes me arch my back and move my hips involuntarily, which only increases the friction.
"Come for me right now, Hadley," Max says and, as usual, his firm command shoots me right over the top. Max keeps right on stroking me and pinching my nipples between his fingers as my orgasm peaks and spreads through my whole body in a wave that keeps cresting.
When he finally stops, I just curl into him and try to catch my breath.
A few minutes later, I glance up at him and frown. "You are looking way too smug, Max Bennett."
He smiles. "You're looking way too beautiful, Hadley Reese Jones."
Then he leans his head down and kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, and the kiss goes from casual to seduce-me almost instantly. Because God, this man knows how to kiss.
When we finally come up for air, he looks at me and sighs. "You don't make it easy."
"What?"
"As much as I'd like to climb back in bed with you and spend the whole day there, I have business to attend to." He lifts me off his lap and goes to scoop up my robe, then brings it back to me.
"Tell me what you want for breakfast and I'll order it while you get dressed." He looks at his watch. "Gabe will be here in about twenty minutes to take you shopping and show you around the Strip."
"So I shouldn't dress for the casino? I'll just come back and change later."
"Have Gabe check with me first before you come up here. I don't want you anywhere near the people I'm meeting with."
"Why?" I ask, although I have a pretty good idea. But I want Max to tell me.
"These aren't good people, Hadley."
"Then why are you in business with them?"
His expression shuts down. He's now unreadable Max.
"It's complicated," Max says, his jaw set, "and I don't have time for this now."
"But we'll talk later?"
He pauses. Almost doesn't answer. Then finally says, "Later."
I tell Max just to order me anything that's fast, and head into the bedroom to get dressed.
We are going to have that conversation later. I need to know what I'm getting myself into before it's too late.