Maxx let out an irritated breath and sagged his body, resting his forehead on my collarbone. “Why is it such a big deal to you?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “You’ve been there, and I can tell it’s not your scene.”
I pushed out from under him and rolled onto my side. I folded my hands beneath my cheek and regarded him steadily. “Because I want to be with you. I hate waiting around for you to come home, wondering what you’re doing,” I explained.
Maxx folded his arm under his head and looked up at me, lines forming between his eyebrows. “You know what I do there, Aubrey,” he said softly. Yes. I knew what he did at Compulsion. He made money selling drugs to the miserable and hopeless. How could I ever accept this part of him?
“You don’t want to see that,” he finished, running the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip.
I kissed his finger before saying, “But I want to be with you.”
“How can I ever say no to you?” he asked me, smiling. My stomach knotted up at his statement.
Because it was a lie.
I didn’t have the power to make him stop using drugs. He’d deny me if I asked him to never sell drugs again. I knew what his response would be if I insisted he stay away from Compulsion and all the temptations it held for him.
As much as Maxx wanted me, as much as he loved me, my influence went only so far. And he was still saying no to me each and every day.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at nine. I have some stuff to do before then,” Maxx said, wrapping an arm around my waist and dragging me across the bed. “Now can we get back to this?” he asked, picking up my leg and hooking it up and over his hip. He dipped his hand between our bodies.
“Yes,” I breathed out, followed by a guttural groan as Maxx pushed two fingers inside me. He moved his hand, his mouth conquering mine, and once again I let myself forget.
“So I’m finally going to meet the mystery man?” Renee asked on Saturday evening. I was getting dressed to go to the club with Maxx. I was a bundle of nerves. This was a big step for us. He was taking me into his world, by his side, where it would be obvious who we were to each other.
We had gone through the early days of our relationship within the walls of his apartment. We had a connection built in secret. Aside from the day we went sledding, we had spent very little time in public. We had been out to dinner a few times, a movie twice. But the majority of our time was spent in the safety of his home.
This was taking our relationship out into the open. This was announcing to everyone that he was mine. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time.
Because I knew who I’d be walking into the club with. It wasn’t my Maxx. It was the Maxx who belonged to everybody else.
I was forcing two worlds to smash into each other.
I was nervous and fitful about the possibilities this night would bring. While Renee was happy to finally meet the guy who had twisted me up inside, I wished my feelings could be that simple.
“I suppose,” I answered, pulling a short red dress over my head. I was borrowing my outfit from Renee, who had insisted. And it was short, as in barely-covering-my-ass short. I felt way too much air where I shouldn’t be feeling it.
“Well, you look amazing. What are you guys doing tonight?” she asked, but before I could answer, her phone vibrated in her hand. Without bothering to look at the screen she turned it off.
“Was that Devon again?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Renee said, giving me one of her all-too-common forced smiles.
“Still being his charming self?” I couldn’t help asking. Renee gave me a look but then snorted.
“Of course,” she replied, walking over to my jewelry box and digging through it. I wisely let the subject drop. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it, and I was freaking out too badly to dig for more than she was willing to give.
“I knew you still had these!” she accused good-naturedly as she held up a pair of dangly earrings with huge sparkly stones at the bottom.
“I am not wearing those,” I told her. I remembered all too well how Renee got when she wanted to play makeover. When we first became friends she had made it her mission to revamp my wardrobe, getting a lot of joy out of introducing me to stilettos and earrings the size of melons.
I hadn’t been subjected to her ministrations in quite some time, but it was easy to recall how much I hated them.
“Oh yes you are. And . . .” She trailed off, going through my shoes and coming up with a matching pair of black strappy things with heels as tall as skyscrapers.
“I’ll break my neck!” I complained, but Renee put them down in front of me, and I oh so carefully slipped them on.
I tried standing up in the four-inch heels Renee was insisting I wear. I stuck one foot out and examined the modern torture device attached to my foot.
“Really, Renee? Why not put spikes on the bottom of my feet? These bitches are gonna kill my toes! I’m going to need to amputate a few by the end of the night,” I groaned, hating the way the shoes pinched my skin.
Renee rolled her eyes and laughed at my pained expression. “You always did make dressing up a chore. Just trust me. Your man will be drooling at your feet,” she said, smiling at my reflection in the mirror. I met her eyes, and there was a moment when I thought things would be okay.
And then I heard a knock at the door. “Mystery man arrives!” Renee announced, arching her eyebrow.
I ran the brush through my long hair one more time and gave myself a perfunctory once-over. I looked good. Really good. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to dress up and enjoy it. I just hoped Maxx liked it.
“Can I get it?” Renee asked.
I nodded, hanging back so she could answer the door. When she did, it revealed a Maxx I had only ever seen in one place . . . Compulsion. This was the man who had first captivated me.
He oozed sexuality and confidence. He wore distressed jeans that hung low on his narrow hips, a tight-fitting blue Henley the color of his eyes, and worn brown Doc Martens. His blond curls were in haphazard disarray and hung down into his hooded eyes. His full lips curved upward in a lazy, sure smile, and his thumbs were tucked into his belt loops.
Maxx was the man your mother warned you about. He was sex and danger and secrets. He was the very worst kind of temptation and the very best kind of distraction.
And even though the sight of him set my hormones on fire, there was something in his eyes that concerned me, something slightly predatory and violent. He scared me. He pulled me in. I felt like running. I felt like giving him everything.
I had come undone.
“I’m Renee,” my roommate said, holding out her hand as she watched him closely. Maxx pushed off from the wall and took her offered hand.
“Nice to finally meet you, Renee. I’m Maxx Demelo.” He covered their joined hands with his other palm, a touch that was meant to alleviate all worry. He looked over at me, and his eyes widened a fraction, the first genuine expression I had seen on his face since Renee had opened the door.
I had surprised him, and maybe unnerved him a bit. It was a heady and powerful feeling.
“I’m Aubrey’s boyfriend,” he finished his introduction, his lips lingering over the word boyfriend. As if that word could ever adequately describe who he was to me.
Obsession. Fixation. Owner of my heart and soul. Those were more appropriate descriptions.
Renee looked over her shoulder as I came closer. Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were concerned.
Maxx released Renee’s hand and turned to me. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling. And just like that, he was my Maxx again. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He tasted like cigarettes and peppermint.