Illegal Use of Hands Page 6

  He groaned as she worked him, hardening against her touch. She tilted her head back to take him even deeper and reached between his thighs to cup his balls in the palm of her hand. Sensitive to the signals of his body, she knew when he hovered on the edge and squeezed his sac with enough pressure to push him past the tipping point.

  “Damn, damn, damn!” His voice echoed off the tile walls.

  His long fingers gripped her head, holding it in place as his release roared up from inside him and he spurted into the well of her mouth. He came and came, his body jerking with each eruption. Stacy worked him with her lips and her hands until she’d wrung the last drop from him. Then she let his shaft slide free and sat back on her heels, her lips curved in a smile.

  Max leaned weakly against the shower wall, stroking her wet hair.

  “I thought you might give me a heart attack,” he said.

  “No more than all that chocolate,” she told him.

  “Speaking of which.”

  He urged her to her feet, took the bottle of liquid soap from the built-in shelf, and poured a generous amount in his hands.

  “My turn again,” he told her.

  Very deliberately and sensuously, he proceeded to soap every inch of her body, checking every crevice for remnants of the frosting, even places like the cleft between the cheeks of her ass where he hadn’t applied the creamy confection at all. By the time he finished, she was thoroughly aroused all over again, and by the looks of him, so was Max.

  “Hold tight, sugar,” he crooned as he rinsed her off.

  Sliding open the shower door he reached out for a drawer in the vanity and yanked out one of the condoms Stacy had learned he kept there. In seconds, he sheathed himself. Lifting her in his strong, athlete’s arms, he guided her onto the head of his cock and slowly lowered her into position. Pressing her against the wall of the shower, he took her fast and hard, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her steady.

  They climaxed together, shuddering in the wet mist of the shower, hearts pounding, lungs dragging in air. They stood there, arms wrapped around each other, water sluicing over them, until Max finally eased himself from her body and stripped off the condom.

  “I think we need to recharge our batteries a little.” He touched his mouth to hers briefly.

  “No kidding,” she told him in an unsteady voice.

  She laughed when she saw the towels he had ready for them were red with hearts on them.

  “I can’t believe it. That is so not you.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “At least with you. I want to guarantee you a Valentine’s Day with all the trimmings.”

  “You’re doing a great job so far,” she told him.

  “The best is yet to come.” He wrapped her in one of the towels and lifted her in his arms. “Come on. I think we need to rest a little, don’t you?”

  *****

  “You know I would love to have you come with me.” Max repeated the sentence for about the hundredth time.

  He had a very uneasy feeling about going to the Warrens’ party without her.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She grinned. “Besides, it will give me a chance to rest up for our big night tomorrow.”

  “That’s right. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and I have a big surprise for you.” He had a slight attack of nerves when he thought about the agenda. He was ready for it, though, and he hoped she was, too.

  “Are you even going to give me a clue?”

  “Nope.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Not one tiny hint. Just be sure to wear that outfit we bought last weekend.”

  He had insisted on taking her shopping, picking out a red dress of silky material that clung to her body in all the right places. Then, ignoring her blushing embarrassment, he’d hauled her into a lingerie shop and picked out the sexiest red bra and thong the salesgirl could find for them.

  “Everyone knows what you have in mind now,” she’d told him, her face almost matching the fabrics.

  “Good. I want everyone to know you belong to me and every man to be jealous of what we’ve got going on.”

  “Are you positive that’s what you want?” she asked.

  “More than I’ve ever been of anything before. So. Cinnamon rolls in the morning? I’ll go out and pick them up.”

  “You won’t be too tired from partying all night?”

  “Sugar, I’ll be in and out of there so fast they’ll hardly know I showed up.”

  She frowned. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with the owners.”

  “I’m fine. I keep telling you that.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white bag.

  “What have you got there?”

  “Take a look. Go ahead.”

  “Oh, Max.” She peered up at him. “Max, I—”

  The bag brimmed with tiny hearts, the kind with printing on them. And they all said I love you. He was getting to the final play of the game, and this was the setup. He’d been very careful about not telling her any more until he thought the moment right. Tomorrow night he’d lay it all out for her, give her his real heart.

  “Wait until tomorrow.”

  She widened her gaze. “More surprises?”

  “Maybe. And now I’ve gotta go.”

  He only allowed himself a brief kiss. More than that and he’d never get out of there. But shit, he hated going off and leaving her. He never got very excited about the Warrens’ party, and this time he didn’t even want to go at all. Maybe if Stacy had agreed to go with him. But she’d made it clear she had no interest in going, and the time hadn’t been right to force the issue. Not with all the other plans he’d made.

  They sign my paycheck. I can go and make nice for a little while.

  Tony Warren was the second generation of his family to own the team. His father had been awarded the franchise and built it into a winner before stepping down. At thirty-five, Tony was taking it to an even higher level and doing it well. He was considered one of the best owners in the business. Because he and his wife took very good care of the team, Max always made it his business to attend any obligatory events, of which this was one.

  Coach lights on metal poles glowed outside the house in the darkness, and spotlights set in the earth highlighted very expensive landscaping. A young kid doing valet service took his car and another one opened the door of the house for him, letting the light and noise from inside spill out.

  “Come in, come in.” Tony Warren shook his hand. “Come get yourself a drink and relax.” He grinned at Max. “Lots of pretty girls here tonight.”

  “Yes, thank you sir, but—”

  “All the old married folks are socializing in the television room. The rest of you single people can let it all hang out wherever.” He tugged Max into the foyer.

  “Yes, sir, but I—”

  “Oh, Max, there you are!” Rina Warren hurried up and gave him a hug. “I say it’s never a party until Max gets here.” She held a drink in one hand as she guided him toward the living room with the other.

  “I appreciate you saying that, except I’m hardly the star here.”

  “I don’t care,” she teased. “You’ll always be my star. I tell Tony that all the time. Come on, say hello to all these nice young ladies waiting for you.”

  Max used every bit of discipline to hold himself together for the next hour. He made polite conversation as he worked the room, chatting up the important guests the Warrens had invited. As politely as possible, he fended off the advances of the “pretty girls” looking to score with a football star and made it a point to say a few words to the sports reporters in the crowd.

  As if I even qualify for a star.

  He knew, however, to a lot of females, that didn’t matter. Single women who were friends of the Warrens spent the entire year working to get an invite to the Valentine’s Day event, hoping to get lucky. He was finally making his way to the front door, watching for one of the Warrens so he could say good-bye, when a blonde in
a tight sweater and skirt grabbed his arm.

  “I’ve been trying to catch your eye all night,” she said, giving him a grin he could only call salacious. “You’re very much in demand.”

  “Not really.” Trouble, he told himself, and tried to extricate himself as politely as he could.

  “I’m Alana Russell, a friend of Rina’s. I live out of town, but I told her, this year, I was coming to visit especially so I could attend their party.”

  “I expect she’s very happy about that.”

  “Oh, sure, sure, sure. Now, Max, I’d love it if I could have a souvenir. Can I bother you for a sec so a friend of mine can take a picture of us together?” Before he could answer, she hurried right along, “Oh, thank you so much,” and waved in the general direction of someone.”

  Sliding her arm around his back, she plastered herself against him, her head against his shoulder. Max dug out his best company smile.

  “Oh, and just one more,” she begged. “It won’t take but a sec.”

  Before he realized what was happening, she had gone up on tiptoe, cupped his cheeks with both hands, and planted a kiss on his lips.

  Max was so shocked for a long moment he couldn’t even move. Then he grabbed her arms as gently as possible and eased her away.

  “I hope you don’t plan to show them to anyone except yourself,” he cautioned. “I’d hate for people to get the wrong idea.”

  “Oh, honey, I think where you Warriors are concerned, there’s only one idea, and it’s the right one.”

  “Actually, I’m seeing someone and—”

  “And maybe you can see me, too.” She nudged him suggestively with her shoulder. “I told Rina she absolutely has to give me your number.”

  It took another two or three minutes before Max could get away from the woman, and another five before he could say good-bye to the Warrens.

  “My friend, Alana thinks you’re the hottest guy on the team,” Rina whispered to him at the door. ”She’s been dying to meet you. I’ll bet you guys would have fun together.”

  Max shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well—”

  “Rina!” Tony hollered at her. “Come over here a minute.”

  “Gotta go. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Finally back in his car, he headed toward home. He felt as if he’d been run over by a lawn mower. Tomorrow he’d have to call Tony Warren and, as delicately as possible, ask him to make sure those pictures never saw the light of day except in Alana’s home.

  He only wished he could get rid of the feeling they were somehow going to bite him in the ass.

  Chapter Five

  Touchdown

  Max rose before six in the morning, having slept uneasily. He couldn’t shake the feeling the sword of doom was about strike him. Those damn pictures. If only he’d been able to push the woman away, but she’d been worse than a vulture. As soon as the clock hit a decent time, he planned to call Tony Warren and ask him to help. You just never knew when a picture would show up on someone’s phone and make its way out into cyberspace. Unfortunately, he didn’t think the Warrens would be taking any calls before noon today.

  He downed two cups of coffee while he watched the clock. Valentine’s Day. He had big plans for Stacy, along with a special event tonight, before the magazine party. Maybe that was why he was so nervous. By eight o’clock, he was ready to jump out of his skin. Showered and dressed, he hurried down to the bakery in the nearby strip center and bought the cinnamon rolls she told him she had a real obsession for. At eight forty-five, he rang her bell, excitement at the upcoming day racing through his veins.

  Instead of opening the door, Stacy merely hollered through it.

  “Go away, Max. Go home.”

  What? “Stacy? What’s wrong? I have cinnamon rolls.”

  “I don’t want your cinnamon rolls. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t even want you. So, go away.”

  Shit. “I’m not leaving until you open up and tell me what’s wrong.” He waited a minute, but nothing happened. “The neighbors are probably going to call the cops if I stand out here yelling much longer. Open the damn door.”

  He was considering breaking it down when he heard the rattle of the chain and the snick of the deadbolt, then there she was. His heart dropped at the sight of her. She had the rattiest robe he’d ever seen on over an equally ratty sleep shirt. Her hair clumped around a messy ponytail and her eyes were swollen and red.

  “I don’t want those.” She pointed at the box. “I don’t want anything from you. I knew it was too good to be true, and I was right. At least the other assholes didn’t dump me so publicly.”

  “Stacy, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. I didn’t dump you.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t share, either. I told you that.”

  “Will you make sense here? What is going on?”

  She held up a finger. “Wait a minute.”

  She closed the door, leaving Max still standing on the little porch. In seconds it was opened again. Stacy shoved her phone in his face.

  “Look. On the Friends of the Warriors Facebook page this morning. Janelle couldn’t wait to call me and tell me.”

  Max’s heart sank. Those fucking photos with that fucking Alana. He should have grabbed the fucking phone last night and smashed it.

  “Stacy, the picture is not what it looks like. I didn’t—”

  “You can’t imagine how humiliated I am. Do you have any idea how many millions of people have probably seen you and whoever she is already?”

  “Please let me explain. I hardly even know her. She—”

  “Good-bye, Max. Don’t come over here again. And don’t call me or text me or try to communicate with me in any way. We’re done.”

  Then another hard slam that he felt through every bone in his body.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Somehow he had to make it all right. He wasn’t going to lose the love of his life on Valentine’s Day.

  *****

  Stacy tried to remember if she’d ever felt more miserable in her life, but she didn’t think so. She didn’t think it was possible for anyone to cry as much as she had or to feel as completely devastated. It wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t trusted Max so completely. After all, she’d known him for three years. They’d been best friends. She’d shared her deepest secrets with him. Exposed herself down to her rawest nerves.

  And he’d taken all that knowledge and played her. Betrayed her. None of the other assholes had really mattered. And mostly she’d been able to hide her state of being dumped because, except for Kurt, she never shared with anyone. Too bad for her Max had insisted on making their activities as public as possible.

  She hated thinking he’d had this in mind all along.

  Maybe not. Maybe he’d really thought they could be special together. A real relationship. Maybe. Hah! Then another hot female came on to him, and she was left in the dust.

  Her landline had been ringing off the hook so often she finally unplugged it. She even turned off her cell. There was no way she could manage to talk to anyone. It was bad enough she had to figure out how to pull herself together to go to the party tonight.

  The damn party. If only she could figure out a way to avoid it. Maybe she could call and say she’d come down with a terminal illness of some kind. Showing up at work Monday would be bad enough. But if she wanted a job come next week, she’d better pull herself together.

  Only how can I celebrate Valentine’s Day when I’m nobody’s Valentine? Max, how could you do this to me?

  At last she dragged herself out of her misery and took a shower, washed her hair, and reluctantly made up her face. She glared at the sexy red dress hanging in the closet, tempted for a moment to cut it up with scissors. Then she thought, what the hell? Maybe she should keep the new Stacy front and center. If Max had dumped her, there were plenty of other fish in the sea. And tonight, she might find one if she chose wisely enough.

  By the time she left her place, in the red
dress and the sexy lingerie, gold hoops dangling from her ears, and her feet shod in high-heeled sandals, she almost had herself believing she could have a good time.

  Almost.

  She just needed to get rid of the heaviness where her heart was.

  The party was always held in one of the high-end downtown hotels. Adam Devereaux, who owned the magazine, liked to make a splash. Besides the staff, the guest list would include advertisers, media, and major influential people. Adam always preached that image was all.

  Parking her car in the hotel garage, she rode the elevator down and took a deep breath before she stepped into the lobby.

  And walked right into Adam Devereaux.

  “Ah, Stacy. There you are. I need you to come with me for a minute.”

  “I…you…what?“

  “Over here.” He took her by the arm and quietly guided her across the lobby to one of the smaller private rooms.

  “What are we doing in here?” There were chairs stacked against the walls, a table at one end with a laptop on it, and a screen on a stand. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

  “You will in a minute.”

  He pulled a chair off one of the stacks and urged her into it, then walked to the table and typed a command into the computer. She was startled to see a face appear on the screen. A woman. One she’d never met personally but the magazine had done a feature on influential women in sports, and Rina Warren had been one of the ten. She didn’t think this had to do with that feature, so what was it all about, anyway?

  She looked up at her boss. “Mr. Devereaux?”

  He nodded at the screen. “Just listen.”

  “Hello, Stacy.” The woman on the screen smiled at her. “We’ve never met. I’m Rina Warren, sort of Max Sullivan’s boss. Tony and I had a rather desperate meeting with Max today about an incident that happened at our party last night. I’m sorry that one of my friends got a little over eager with Max. None of us knew his heart was already committed or, I can promise you, nothing would have happened.”

  Stacy’s jaw dropped.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t come to the party with Max last night. If you can make the time, Tony and I would love it if you could drop by our house later this evening. Our major event was last night, and I understand yours is tonight. Max told me he has big plans afterwards, but we are having a few friends in for a low-key Valentine’s celebration. I know it will be late, but that’s okay. We’d love to meet you.”