Page 66 of Tempt Me

Thehigh he’d experiencedwasshort-lived. Assoon asthesheen had wornoff, Maxwasbackto thinking aboutGigi. Heshould havejustlet herwalkawayfromhim. Itwould beforthe best. Hewas leaving in a few months. Shehadn’tevenwantedtocontinuea sexual relationship with himanyway. But…

Butthethoughtof notseeing her,notkissing her,notmaking lovetoher everynight made his whole bodyachein a way he’d never experienced before. He’d never been in lovebefore. He thoughthehad loved Chelsea,butsincebeingwith Gigi—nomatterhowshortthetime—heknew that’swhatitwas.

Heloved her.

And he’d bedamned if hedidn’ttryand getherback.

Picking up hisphone,hecalled her again. Heexpectedittogostraighttovoicemail likeit had everytimebefore,so hewasreadytojustend thecall.Butthen itconnected.

“Max,you bastard,”Gigi said,her wordsslurring together.

Hefrowned.“You’redrunk.”

“Yup,”shereplied,popping the‘p’then laughing. Thesound wasdrownedoutwith a sudden burst of dancemusic,likeaheavydoor hadopened and closed. “Whereareyou?”

Jen’s muffled voicesaid something inthebackground. “I’mnottelling you,”Gigisang,laughing again.

Heground hismolarstogether in frustration.“I needtospeaktoyou.”Talking to her whileshe wasdrunkwasnotideal,buthewould takewhathecould get.

“Well,I don’twanttospeaktoyou,Max.”

Heclutched hisphonecloser tohisear asifitwasactuallyGigi’sarmand hewastrying topull her tohim.“Cometomyapartment,”hedemanded,hisvoicechanging justslightly.Shehad reacted to itunconsciously beforewhiletheywerefucking,and hewashoping histonewould punch through thealcohol haze.

“Okay,”shereplied softly,aftera beat.“LetmeloseJen.”

Hehung up thephoneandstartedto pace. Hehad noidea whereshewas,orhowlong itwould takehertogettohisplace buthehopedlikehell itwouldn’tbelong. Hisfeetateup thedistance acrosshis rug,hiseyesconstantlyreturning totheclockhanging on thewall. Ten minuteswentby.Then twenty. Atthethirty-threeminutemark,therewasabuzz fromtheintercom. He pressedthe button,notbothering tocheckwhoitwas;itcould onlybeoneperson.

Yanking openthedoor,Maxstood intheentrance,waiting for Gigitowalktowardshimfromthe elevator.When hesawwhatshewaswearing,hiseyesslid shutand hewanted todrag herinside, awayfromprying eyes,forwearing something sorevealing outtoanightclub orabar whilehe wasn’ttheretokeep an eye on her.

Shewasinamini skirtandhalter necktop thatbarelycovered herbeautiful breasts. She wobbledon too-high heelsand waswearingmakeupalotheavier than hewasused toseeing on her. Her red hairwasunrestrained and curled,fallingoveroneshoulder in thickribbons. Shewouldn’t meethiseyes,hergazeonthefloor. Sheweaved on herfeeta fewstepsfromhim,causing herto stumbleforward. Hecaughther effortlessly,holding her closeto him.

Shesmelledof tequila. A lotoftequila.

“You needto drinksomewater,”hetold her,guiding her into hisapartmentandclosing the door behind them.

“I’mfine,”shereplied.“I justneedtositdown for aminute.”He lowered herontothecouch and walked intothekitchentogetherthewatershethoughtshedidn’tneed. Heplaced the glasson the tablein frontof her.

“Drink.”

Dutifully,shepicked up the glassand broughtittoherlips. Sheswallowed greedily,a littlewater running fromthecornerofher mouth. It dripped onto her shirt,leaving adarkpatch on thefabric.

Hetookthe glassfrom herhand,settling itonthetablebesidehim.“Wheredidyou getthose clothes?”

“Jen,”shesqueaked,staring atherfeet.

Maxpursed hislips. OfcourseJen had played dress-up. “Whyhaveyou been avoiding mycalls all day?”

Shelooked up,biting her lip. “I didn’twanttotalkto you.”

“Why not?”

“BecauseIwould have given in and forgiven you.” She puther handsover hermouth. “Crap,”she said under her breath.

Shewasbeing socandid,and hewasgoing toaskherall thequestionsheneeded towhileshe wasin such atalkativemood.

“Whywould you haveforgivenme?”

Sheblinked athimslowly.“I doubted I could resistyou if you looked at melike you’redoing right now.”

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