Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I think I’m holding my breath, waiting for Max to answer. He’s so hard to read and our relationship, or whatever this is, is so complicated. I find myself worried; any time I push him for more.
“What makes you think there’s more?”
“Umm…gee…I don’t know, Max. Maybe because I’m not stupid. What kind of man would stick his neck out, and that of his men, to protect an outsider?”
“I told you; I had markers I called in.”
“Yeah, okay,” I answer, letting it go and feeling the disappointment settle inside. Why did I think something had shifted with us since that day I decided to go with him? How did I forget the real reason I am in Max’s life? I pull away, thinking now would be a good time to get some distance. To reassess exactly, what the hell I’m doing.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls, holding me even though I’m trying to get away.
“I just need some air,” I lie. I’m hurt, and I shouldn’t be. I’m stupid.
“Damn it, Tess!” he growls when I finally manage to get off the bed, and I’m doing my best to stop the tears. I’m not a crier, so I don’t even know why I want to cry! But, I do. I absolutely want to cry, because I feel helpless, and I hate that feeling.
“It’s okay, Mad Max, I get it. I do. Just because I tell you about my life, it doesn’t mean we’re sharing. I’m your hostage. I just forgot for a minute exactly what kind of relationship we have.” Those words bring out the tears. I hate that they are falling, I hate that I can’t stop them, and I hate that Max caused them.
“Will you calm down?”
“I am calm!” I argue.
“Then why are you crying?” he asks confused, and he should be. I am. So, I give him the truth.
“I don’t know!”
“Jesus, this is why I don’t do relationships. You women are crazy. Get back in bed, Tess.”
“I want a drink,” I grumble, glad when the tears seem to disappear as quickly as they appeared. Maybe I am just raw from talking about Rory. I don’t allow myself to go there very often.
“Hell, I need one, but if you want to hear this damn story, get back in bed.”
“Why? You don’t have to tell me, after all, I’m just…”
“Shut it before I tan your hide. And trust me after the workout I gave you this evening, doing that will leave you hurting, and not in the way you like.” His words are supposed to be a threat. I know, but I can’t stop the quiver of awareness that travels down my spine. “Fucking hell, Kitten, get that look off your face before I fuck you and me both into a coma.”
I huff and get back under the covers. I try to hold my body stiff against him, but he turns so that he spoons me from behind, and the heat from his body weakens my resolve. Max wastes no time taking advantage of that when he kisses the curve of my neck. Just one soft touch from him and my mind goes to mush.
“First, Tess, let’s clear up the fact that you are not my hostage. You stopped being that when you let me touch you. Whatever this is, I think it’s safe to say that we’re in it together now, right?”
I release a pent up breath at his words. He’s right. There’s no one holding me to Max now, but myself. It’s time I owned up to that.
“You’re right.”
“Second, it’s not that I mind talking about Marcum, It’s just… I never really have before. Marcum feels like he owes me. It doesn’t matter that I’ve told him he doesn’t, he still feels like he does.”
He burrows his head against the back of my neck kissing me. It’s distracting, and maybe that’s what he wants. I’m not sure. I try to grasp his words, but I can’t help feeling like a very big piece of the puzzle is missing.
“Why would he feel like he owes you? Did you save the life of one of his twenty children or something?”
He squeezes me and laughs, “Tess.”
“Well, I mean it can’t have escaped your notice that Marcum has a lot of kids, Max. The man must have like super sperm or something.”
“Can we not talk about Marcum’s sperm while we’re in our bed?”
I smile when he says, our bed. I can’t help it. “Why not? Do his little soldiers intimidate you, Max?” I joke.
“Jesus. How is it you always manage to bust my balls, Tess?”
“It’s a gift?”
“I’m beginning to ask myself which one of us actually got taken prisoner that day.”
His words give me a funny feeling, and it warms me. I don’t want to give myself time to dissect it though. I’ve already had one irrational, emotional outburst tonight. “Okay so, Marcum?” I prompt because I really do want to know. Max is a mystery, and I want to know more and more about him.