The Gamble
Page 100
“Let me go.”
“Nope.”
“Let me go!” I shouted, Max gave me another shake but I kept pushing.
“You don’t look thirty-six,” he told me.
“Let me go.”
“Thirty, at a push.”
“Max. Let. Me. Go!”
“I was surprised, surprised enough not to believe you.”
“Let me go!”
“You wanna know how old I am?”
I gave up pushing since I wasn’t getting anywhere and it appeared Max was determined to have this conversation. If I’d learned nothing in the last week, I learned that when Max was determined to do something, he did it.
Instead of pushing, I glared at him again and said, “Not particularly.”
He ignored me and stated, “Thirty-seven.”
He was older than me. That was good. Not that it mattered if he was younger, really. Actually, not that it mattered at all since I didn’t care.
“Birthday’s May eighth,” he continued, breaking into my thoughts.
“Fascinating,” I drawled sarcastically even though it was because he wasn’t a year older than me, he was a year and a half and his birthday was only a month away.
Max went on, “Dad died when I was twenty-nine, took me six years to build this house.”
That was fascinating too. Six years was a long time. He must have been determined to do that as well.
Even so, I kept my mouth shut.
“He died of cancer, had it since I was sixteen, fought it back for thirteen years before it got him.”
That was also fascinating but in a sad yet inspiring way.
Still, I demanded, “Stop talking,” but he ignored that too.
“Don’t know why Kami’s such a bitch. Pretty much has been since I could remember. Mom, she f**ked up, getting shot of Dad since she always loved him. They fought, f**k, you wouldn’t believe it. Even when they were divorced. But she always loved him. Told me that after his funeral. His death broke her. She was so goddamned stubborn, so f**kin’ proud, she let her life just slip away. Lived in the same town as the man she loved the length of it but only with him for eight years. Now, she’s bitter for it.”
Unwilling to let Max’s sharing breach my defenses, I latched onto something he said and called him on it. “Are you insinuating I’m proud and stubborn?”
“Don’t think you’re proud, babe, but you’re stubborn as hell.”
“I am not.”
“You sure as f**k are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“If you’re not then why, an hour ago, did you let me in, practically begged me to come in and locked me tight when I got there and now you’re doin’ everything you can to shove me right back out?”
This time I ignored him and suggested, “Let’s talk about your mother.”
I saw his jaw flex in irritation at my change of subject before he asked, “What do you wanna know?”
“How about you explaining why you’ve had breakfast and dinner with my mother and she lives in Arizona and your mother lives fifteen miles away and I haven’t met her?”
“This might have escaped you, Duchess, but we’ve been kinda busy.”
I found it tremendously annoying when he was right.
Max went on, “There’s also the fact your Mom showed up on the doorstep and then stayed.”
Yes, totally annoying when he was right.
Max continued, “Not to mention, you already met Kami twice and I figured that was enough of my family for awhile. I’m tryin’ to find ways to make you want to stay, not give you reasons to run away.”
This, too, was a good point.
“Perhaps we should stop talking and go back to relaxing,” I suggested the impossible. I was never going to relax for the rest of my life.
“Explain somethin’ to me, babe, why is it you always wanna stop talking when I’m winnin’ the f**kin’ argument?”
I decided to be honest. “Because you’re more annoying when you’re right than you are just normally.”
Max stared at me a minute, visibly astonished by my honesty then he threw his head back and laughed while gathering me close to his amazing, sweat-slicked chest.
“Jesus, you’re cute,” he murmured when he quit laughing and my face was stuffed into his throat.
“For the last time, Max, stop telling me I’m cute when I’m angry at you,” I demanded and he laughed yet again.
I shoved at his chest.
Max let me push back but unexpectedly I found myself suspended then maneuvered then I was straddling Max’s lap and my towel was whipped off.
I covered my br**sts with my arms and snapped, “Max!”
One of Max’s hands was at my hip, anchoring me to his lap, the other one was gliding up into my hair.
“Been wantin’ to try this since you told me that first night your sinuses hurt,” he muttered, his hand in my hair pulling my face to his.
“What?” I asked on a whisper, all of a sudden enthralled with watching his mouth get closer.
“Try and see how creative I can get, helpin’ you work out that attitude of yours.”
Even in the sauna, a shiver slid along my skin.
“Max –” I started but didn’t say more.
His head slanted and his hand tilted mine the other way. Then he kissed me.
Then he got creative, helping me work out my attitude, an endeavor at which he was staggeringly successful for, after we were done, the only attitude I had the energy to adopt was calm and serene.
* * * * *
Max and I made love in the sauna then he took me to the shower to rinse off then he toweled me off then he took me to bed.
He didn’t like it when I put on my undies under the towel and tugged his t-shirt on over it before I pulled it free but when I explained I had never been comfortable sleeping nude, he didn’t say another word.
Then as I lay on my side in bed, he soothed ointment on my scrapes again while I tried with only small success to stay awake.
After he was done, he threw the ointment on the nightstand, turned out the light, tossed the covers over us and pulled me into his arms.
As sleep started its invasion, I snuggled closer and whispered, “I’m sorry your Dad was sick for so much of your life.”
“Sleepy Nina,” he murmured strangely, his hand had gone up the t-shirt and his fingers were drifting along my back. If I wasn’t so sleepy, I would have keenly registered how incredibly nice his hand felt, drifting restfully along my back. Instead, I vaguely registered how incredibly nice his hand felt, drifting restfully along my back.
“Nope.”
“Let me go!” I shouted, Max gave me another shake but I kept pushing.
“You don’t look thirty-six,” he told me.
“Let me go.”
“Thirty, at a push.”
“Max. Let. Me. Go!”
“I was surprised, surprised enough not to believe you.”
“Let me go!”
“You wanna know how old I am?”
I gave up pushing since I wasn’t getting anywhere and it appeared Max was determined to have this conversation. If I’d learned nothing in the last week, I learned that when Max was determined to do something, he did it.
Instead of pushing, I glared at him again and said, “Not particularly.”
He ignored me and stated, “Thirty-seven.”
He was older than me. That was good. Not that it mattered if he was younger, really. Actually, not that it mattered at all since I didn’t care.
“Birthday’s May eighth,” he continued, breaking into my thoughts.
“Fascinating,” I drawled sarcastically even though it was because he wasn’t a year older than me, he was a year and a half and his birthday was only a month away.
Max went on, “Dad died when I was twenty-nine, took me six years to build this house.”
That was fascinating too. Six years was a long time. He must have been determined to do that as well.
Even so, I kept my mouth shut.
“He died of cancer, had it since I was sixteen, fought it back for thirteen years before it got him.”
That was also fascinating but in a sad yet inspiring way.
Still, I demanded, “Stop talking,” but he ignored that too.
“Don’t know why Kami’s such a bitch. Pretty much has been since I could remember. Mom, she f**ked up, getting shot of Dad since she always loved him. They fought, f**k, you wouldn’t believe it. Even when they were divorced. But she always loved him. Told me that after his funeral. His death broke her. She was so goddamned stubborn, so f**kin’ proud, she let her life just slip away. Lived in the same town as the man she loved the length of it but only with him for eight years. Now, she’s bitter for it.”
Unwilling to let Max’s sharing breach my defenses, I latched onto something he said and called him on it. “Are you insinuating I’m proud and stubborn?”
“Don’t think you’re proud, babe, but you’re stubborn as hell.”
“I am not.”
“You sure as f**k are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“If you’re not then why, an hour ago, did you let me in, practically begged me to come in and locked me tight when I got there and now you’re doin’ everything you can to shove me right back out?”
This time I ignored him and suggested, “Let’s talk about your mother.”
I saw his jaw flex in irritation at my change of subject before he asked, “What do you wanna know?”
“How about you explaining why you’ve had breakfast and dinner with my mother and she lives in Arizona and your mother lives fifteen miles away and I haven’t met her?”
“This might have escaped you, Duchess, but we’ve been kinda busy.”
I found it tremendously annoying when he was right.
Max went on, “There’s also the fact your Mom showed up on the doorstep and then stayed.”
Yes, totally annoying when he was right.
Max continued, “Not to mention, you already met Kami twice and I figured that was enough of my family for awhile. I’m tryin’ to find ways to make you want to stay, not give you reasons to run away.”
This, too, was a good point.
“Perhaps we should stop talking and go back to relaxing,” I suggested the impossible. I was never going to relax for the rest of my life.
“Explain somethin’ to me, babe, why is it you always wanna stop talking when I’m winnin’ the f**kin’ argument?”
I decided to be honest. “Because you’re more annoying when you’re right than you are just normally.”
Max stared at me a minute, visibly astonished by my honesty then he threw his head back and laughed while gathering me close to his amazing, sweat-slicked chest.
“Jesus, you’re cute,” he murmured when he quit laughing and my face was stuffed into his throat.
“For the last time, Max, stop telling me I’m cute when I’m angry at you,” I demanded and he laughed yet again.
I shoved at his chest.
Max let me push back but unexpectedly I found myself suspended then maneuvered then I was straddling Max’s lap and my towel was whipped off.
I covered my br**sts with my arms and snapped, “Max!”
One of Max’s hands was at my hip, anchoring me to his lap, the other one was gliding up into my hair.
“Been wantin’ to try this since you told me that first night your sinuses hurt,” he muttered, his hand in my hair pulling my face to his.
“What?” I asked on a whisper, all of a sudden enthralled with watching his mouth get closer.
“Try and see how creative I can get, helpin’ you work out that attitude of yours.”
Even in the sauna, a shiver slid along my skin.
“Max –” I started but didn’t say more.
His head slanted and his hand tilted mine the other way. Then he kissed me.
Then he got creative, helping me work out my attitude, an endeavor at which he was staggeringly successful for, after we were done, the only attitude I had the energy to adopt was calm and serene.
* * * * *
Max and I made love in the sauna then he took me to the shower to rinse off then he toweled me off then he took me to bed.
He didn’t like it when I put on my undies under the towel and tugged his t-shirt on over it before I pulled it free but when I explained I had never been comfortable sleeping nude, he didn’t say another word.
Then as I lay on my side in bed, he soothed ointment on my scrapes again while I tried with only small success to stay awake.
After he was done, he threw the ointment on the nightstand, turned out the light, tossed the covers over us and pulled me into his arms.
As sleep started its invasion, I snuggled closer and whispered, “I’m sorry your Dad was sick for so much of your life.”
“Sleepy Nina,” he murmured strangely, his hand had gone up the t-shirt and his fingers were drifting along my back. If I wasn’t so sleepy, I would have keenly registered how incredibly nice his hand felt, drifting restfully along my back. Instead, I vaguely registered how incredibly nice his hand felt, drifting restfully along my back.
