Page 44 of Wickedly Played
In order for Serena to be mine fully, I have to kill him.
With the last few minutes of the cam playing, I choke my dick with my fist. After a few pumps, I finish on my stomach. Instead of wiping my come, I look at the files I found.
Mmm… I wonder if Serena knows her precious bodyguard is hiding a big secret.
I wonder what she would think if she knew the real reason why Max took the job. He is only there to get to her dad. What a perfect way to take down an enemy.
Through their daughter.
It only took a couple of taps on the keyboard to find out what he’s been hiding. Serena isn’t safe. She’s in more danger now than she thought she was with just having me.
I’ve heard the rumors. People are talking about her stalker being so scary. If they are talking about me, I’m not the one she should be afraid of. I’m the only one who is trying to protect her. I will protect her from anyone who is a threat to her.
Even if that means I have to kill Maximillian Fitzpatrick.
Even if that means I have to kill Serena Jermaine. She will be mine. Only she can decide if she will be mine in the living or in the afterlife.
Chapter Eighteen
SERENA
I put the finishing touches on my face for my makeup before running the brush through my wavy hair. No matter what I do, I can’t get over what happened a few weeks ago. Max had me in his bed… He made me come harder than anyone has ever made me. After, he slept in my bed with me curled up on his chest.
Then he said I’m just a job.
Two weeks have passed since he rescued me from the man at the club. For the past two weeks, I have been doing my best to stay clear of my bodyguard. Every time he says anything to me, it is hurtful. I have never met someone who could be so fucking mean while pulling someone in. If he were a complete asshole all the time, this might have been easier.
It is in the sweet moments when he places his fingers on the small of my back to lead me into a room. And when he puts his hand out for me to grab to climb out of the car. Or when he doesn’t know I’m looking at him and he’s looking at me like he wants to possess me. Max has the power to drag me in and drown me in lust. I have a feeling he would love nothing more than to hook me to him so he can continue to play with me.
During the last event, I received photos from the director. Of course, these photos are mainly used for promotional purposes,but I can tell these photos were sent to me for another reason. One of the photos has his hand hovering behind my head like he’s about to reach out to grab my neck. Another photo has him looking down at me as if I were something precious. Then, in the next photo, which makes me swallow my tongue, I’m looking up at him as if I’m giving him my submission.
The last one is the one that makes me feel at least five different warring feelings inside.
I hate it when I look at these photos and remember how much he loves to play games with me. He’s a master puppeteer, and I’m his puppet sitting on his lap. When did I become so pathetic that I wish for a man to stop being such a fucker to me?
We have danced around each other without actually saying much. We will exchange pleasantries, explore my plans for the day, and then that’s it.
Why does he have to be such an asshole but be so hot?
My ex-husband, Collin, was an asshole. My father approved of the match without telling me until I was engaged. It happened so fast. I got my ring on the eve of our engagement party with all of our friends and family inside. We had just met an hour beforehand, and now we have to convince them that we’re happy.
I wish I could say we fell in love. I thought I loved him. I thought we were heading in the right direction. Unfortunately for me, he was already with my sister. Like most girls who have been groomed to be the perfect mafia wife, I had hoped a baby would save our marriage. My father pushed us to have a baby, but it never worked.
My heart and stomach fill with butterflies as I smell his cologne before I see him. Max knocks on my bathroom door with a quiet tap. “You about ready?”
“Yes,” I reply curtly. Being around Max has been a chore lately. Every time he has me close to his body, all I can thinkabout is his face between my legs. Or his body wrapped around me like he needed me.
“You look really nice,” he compliments.
I look down at my red wine wrap dress, which accentuates my chest and flows smoothly down my body. This is one of my favorite dresses to wear to events like this one. Tonight is the annual party for the Checkmate Club’s anniversary. I’ve been a member for a few years, and I have never missed a function at the club.
Since my stalker has been around, I hate going to events with a meat shield. My clients think something else is going on with me, but I just explained it's for protection. I couldn’t bear to tell them the truth about my stalker. I would drop clients so quickly.
Bill doesn’t know this, but there is going to be a demonstration tonight at Alpha One, one of the houses with the most voyeur space. Stella has been advertising it for a couple of days. I can’t wait to get my hands on her. I have so much pent-up energy coursing through my veins from frustration.
Fuck Max.
Every time he gets close to me, I lean in and expect him to do it, too. To my utter dismay, I crave it. He places his hand next to my waist, making me whimper a little in the back of my throat. To my dismay, he hasn’t.
