Page 15 of Wild Card

“Not really, but it’s not broadcasted either.” He opens his door. “Stay put.”

“Hey!” I call when he shuts his door on me.

Is he really going to leave me in the car? I guess that’s not the worst-case scenario because I could use the time alone to escape. Do I want to escape? Not really. Maybe Maxim actually trusts me. The realization makes me warm in my chest, and I can’t remember the last time I felt that way. I’m so lost in thought that I’m surprised when my car door opens.

“You really think I was going to leave you alone out here?”

Right, of course he wasn’t. I take his hand, and Maxim pulls me from my seat into his big body.

“I suppose not. I could get away from you if you did.” I give him a playful smirk to mask my true feelings.

Maxim shuts the car door before pinning me to the side of it in a heartbeat. I can tell from his hard expression he’s not being playful at all. He crowds me while his hands come down on the top of the car. I bet if someone walked by, they wouldn’t even be able to see me under him. God knows he’s all I see right now. He takes up every inch of my vision, and I have to drop my head all the way back to meet his eyes with mine.

“Stop talking about getting away from me Rue.” He leans down, his mouth coming to my ear. “I’ll spank you when I get you alone again.” His warm breath tickles my skin against my neck.

“Is that really a threat, Max?” I ask before resting my hands on his chest. I can’t stop myself from petting him.

I love how easily he surrounds me. We’re out in broad daylight, and I feel so damn safe with him. He can shield the world away from us, and though a lot of things about him should scare the crap out of me, they seem to do the opposite.

“Next time I’ll spank your pussy.” The threat sends a thrill through my body at the same time he lifts his thigh and presses it between my legs. I’m straddling it, and the contact makes me suck in a breath. There is no way he would slap my sex. Right?

“You—” I’m cut off when he lifts his head, his eyes locking with mine. The intensity of his gaze stops the words in my throat.

“I would,” he says with finality and my stomach tightens. I’m picturing him spanking me there, and I have to fight a whimper. “That turns you on?” I shake my head, and he smirks. “Then why are you grinding your pussy down on my thigh, firecracker?”

I freeze, stopping my hips from moving back and forth. What the hell is wrong with my body? I’ve turned into a sex addict. This is all his fault because I didn’t even know I was doing it!

“I ah, um was trying to get away,” I lie and he makes a tsking sound.

“It’s too late now. Grinding your pussy on me in public and lying.” He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. At least I think he is. “You’re getting that spanking for the pussy grinding and then my cock in your mouth for lying.”

Who does he think he is? I can be a hussy and lie if I want to.

“Max—”

Before I can say something bratty, his mouth comes down on mine. The kiss is hard, and he claims my lips while his fingers sink into my hair. He takes full control, and when he pulls away, I have to gasp to catch my breath.

Okay, maybe he can boss me around and punish me.

“Now be a good girl.” He grabs me by my wrist, not waiting for a response. It wasn’t a question, it was an order.

I have no choice but to follow after him and when we draw closer to the building, he slows his steps. He brings me to his side, and I watch as he enters the code for the door. The lock disengages so we can enter, and I peek over my shoulder to see if the door needs a code to exit as well. I learned a long time ago to always know my way out.

We walk down a long hallway, and Maxim stops at another door before entering in another code. It pops open, and his hold on my wrist is still firm as we enter. I glance around the small room, and the only thing in it is a metal table with a couple of chairs. The walls are empty and gray, leaving me with a cold feeling. It looks like an interrogation room.

“Sit.” He points to one of the metal chairs after releasing my hand. I reluctantly plop down in it while my anxiety starts to rise. In the hotel I knew I was trapped, but it didn’t have the same feeling as this place does. “You’ll wait here.”

“What?” I pop back up from the chair.

“This isn’t up for debate.”

“I thought we were a team?” I fight not to fidget or show any emotion.

“We are, but you’ll stay here.”

“But—”

“I’ll be back soon.” His mood shifted the second we entered the warehouse. Now he reminds me of the man I met at Vince Sledge’s home. How does that feel like forever ago? “You’ll stay put.” He reinforces his words when I don’t acknowledge what he said.

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