Page 12 of Wild Card

“Cut the shit. What do you want?”

“You need to come down here. We’ve got a lineup, and you have to identify the witnesses before time’s up. We want to make sure this entire operation is finished, but if we let these guys go, they could rally Sledge’s suppliers and be back in business.”

I clench my jaw as I glance back to the bathroom.

“I want to make sure that you didn’t take Vince out for nothing. That’s all. I need ten minutes of your time and then we’re square.”

“Fine,” I agree, but I’m pissed as hell. “I’ll be there soon.”

Chapter Nine

RUE

I stand by the door trying to listen in on Maxim’s phone call, but I can’t make anything out. He’s slowly gotten information out of me about my life, but I still don’t know anything about him. When the man gets his hands on me, I melt for him. In the moment it’s freeing, but then when I get some space and so many thoughts and emotions take over. It makes me want to run away and be all alone. That’s the only kind of self-preservation I know.

I rush into the bathroom to start the water in the tub so he doesn’t bust me trying to spy. I should probably try to earn his trust because that would make it easier to escape. I don’t want to, my mind screams, but I ignore it and dump bubbles I found on the counter into the giant tub.

“Hey.” Maxim comes up behind me as I’m bent over the tub and wraps his arm around my waist.

His cock is hard and pressing into my ass. The man is always hard even after he cums. The evidence of his release is still on me, and the thought of him doing it again makes my body heat all over. Maxim is becoming an addiction.

“I’m getting our pool ready,” I tease, wanting to keep my mood playful. I need to keep myself in control and remember what this all really is. The sour taste of him hurrying me out of the room so he could take his call is still lingering.

He presses a kiss to my neck, and the simple brush of his mouth has me leaning back into him. When we’re like this, I feel safe, but I have to remember it’s an illusion. We’re locked away in a beautiful suite pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. At least until someone calls his phone again.

“We’re going to have to take a quick shower.” He turns me in his arms, and I school my face so he can’t see my disappointment.

I know what’s coming because this is how things always go. I think I’m going to get one thing then I don’t. He told me that we were going to lay low in the hotel for a few days, and I started to want exactly that. Now it’s being ripped from my fingers. I should know better and that I can’t trust anything anyone says. In the end, they always do what suits them, and always pick themselves.

“You have to go,” I say before he can. I don’t want to hear him say the words. It would make it hurt more.

I’m used to ripping the Band-Aid off myself. It’s my way of not letting people hurt me because if I get hurt, it means that I cared. That’s not something I’m willing to consider or allow to happen with Maxim.

“We”—he emphasizes the word—“need to go back.” I place my hands on his chest to try and push him away, but I’m trapped against the tub.

“I don’t go back,” I tell him and keep the emotion out of my voice.

When you’re running, the last thing you do is return to the scene of the crime. Also, I never stay anywhere for too long.

When I try again to push him away, Maxim grabs my wrists and lifts my hands to his mouth. He kisses each of my palms while not breaking eye contact.

“You can’t push me away.” His voice is somehow soothing, but I fight it.

“You’re right. That really isn’t my style.” I bite the inside of my cheek because I’m pissed I gave away so much of myself. It’s clear he’s not letting me go, so I’ll have to pretend to play along.

“I know, firecracker. You love to run, and thank fuck I love chasing you. But that will have to wait for another day.”

“Right, another day,” I repeat, giving him my best fake smile.

“Let me clean you up,” he offers while he turns off the tub and leads me over to the shower.

“If we’re in a hurry, I can wash myself,” I tell him when I’m undressed and under the warm spray of water. I don’t need him washing me because it’s one more way for him to lure me into a false sense of whatever this is between us.

“When are you going to learn that what I say goes?”

I start to protest but stop when his hands move across my body and he soaps me up. He rubs the muscles as he goes. I almost have an orgasm when he gets to my hair and then kisses up my shoulder and neck.

“Now go get dressed while I finish up,” Maxim says after he’s rinsed me off. “I laid out clothes for you on the bed.”

---