Page 19 of Maxim

What makes me want to steal her away and take her to my home outside of the city, where we won’t be disturbed?

She pauses by the table where the items up for grabs in the silent auction are listed. I stalk up behind her and take a moment to inhale the soft, fruity scent of her. It’s delicious, just like her.

“Does a vacation in Bermuda sound appealing? Because I’m happy to bid on it for you if so.” I can afford it and while beach vacations are not typically my thing, I bet the sight of my malyshka in a bikini - or better still, naked - would make me a convert.

She startles like a baby deer when I speak. The glass she’s holding jerks, spilling some of the expensive champagne the mayor has splashed out on.

I take the opportunity to lick a few stray drops of champagne from her slender fingers. This does nothing to help my dick situation but reason has vacated the room. My big brain is no longer in charge.

“Delicious,” I murmur, enjoying the way her cheeks flush an intoxicating shade of pink. Her breathing is choppy, her pupils dilated. She’s aroused but nervous. This appeals to my instincts as an apex predator.

If she runs, I will give chase.

“I’d get bored on a beach vacation,” she sasses me.

“I promise you won’t be bored with me.” Not a chance, malyshka.

“You have a high opinion of yourself Mr…?”

“Max. And you are?”

“Natalya, but everyone calls me Nat.”

“Natalya…” It’s the perfect name for her. I love the way it rolls off my tongue. My cock twitches as I wonder what she’ll taste like when I fuck her with my tongue. Will she be sweet, like honey?

“Well it’s nice to meet you again.” From the tension in her limbs, she’s about to run, and while I do enjoy the chase, it’s not the best place for those kinds of games. I prefer to play my games in private, not in full view of the city’s finest.

So I take hold of her slim wrist and lead her toward the bar like a little lost lamb.

And no, the lamb analogy is not lost on me.

“Let me get you a drink,” I say. “It’s only fair seeing as how I spilled your champagne.”

“It’s OK, I don’t like champagne anyway.”

The bartender knows who I am and he wastes no time in approaching.

“What would you like to drink, Natalya?” I ask, trying hard to resist the urge to pull her closer. From the way her pretty blue eyes are flicking from side to side, looking for a way out, she’s still nervous.

A drink should help settle her nerves.

“Vodka and soda with a dash of lime, please.” Vodka. I approve.

“A glass of Macallan for me.” I usually drink vodka, but tonight I’m in the mood for whiskey.

The bartender quickly dispenses our drinks and then moves away to serve more customers. Natalya takes a long gulp of her drink and some of the tension eases away. My whiskey slides down my throat, the flavor notes complex and satisfying. As they should be.

“No plus-one, Natalya?” If she’s with someone, he better stay the fuck away. I don’t share, and I sure as fuck aren’t letting some asshole touch her in my presence.

“No. You?” From the way her eyes narrow slightly, I detect some jealousy at the thought of me with another woman. My grin widens.

“Would it bother you if I was with a woman?”

She shrugs, effecting nonchalance. “No, why would it? I don’t know you.”

“But you do, malyshka, I’m the one who saved you.” The minute the words leave my lips I regret them. Her eyes lose their sparkle and her shoulders curl inwards slightly. Before I can second-guess myself, I reach out and lightly touch her shoulder.

“It’s OK, Natalya, he’s gone. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

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