CHAPTER THREE
1140 Words
CHAPTER THREE
Three days later, Leslie inched down the lime-green hallway of the Garden View Hotel and stopped at Max’s room.
She knocked, but no one answered. “Max?” She knocked again then tried the doorknob to find the door unlocked. “Max?” She peeked in, greeted by the sound of water running in the corner bathroom. “Max, it’s Leslie!” She cursed as she walked into the beige room.
The refined wood furniture and bright green and orange fabrics elevated the plain room into sophisticated fun.
“Max, I don’t have all day.”
“Leslie?” he shouted over the shower.
She stopped at the parted, bathroom door.
“You’re early.” He hummed. “I’m in the shower.”
“You said be over by five,” she snapped. “It’s four-twenty.”
“Is four-twenty the same as five in your mind?”
She managed a chuckle. “Well, I’m here now.”
“Hold on.” He turned the water off and within seconds, Leslie stared upon Max’s n***d frame as he grabbed his towel off the bathroom sink.
“Jesus.” She tried to turn away but her eyes had a mind of their own.
Max stood with his back to the c***k in the door, drying himself in the mirror.
The multicolored tattoo sleeve of the Asian dragon forced her gaze upon his bulky arm. “I see you,” he said, snickering. “You were looking at me?” He got the comb off the vanity and slid it through his trimmed, tobacco-brown hair. “You like what you see?” He flexed.
“You’re disgusting.” She walked across the navy-blue carpet to the window.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one peeking at someone in the bathroom.”
“Knowing you, you wanted me to look.” She checked out the terrace beyond the sliding side doors.
People strolled walked up and down the sidewalk below.
“Let’s get this over with.” She turned around to find Max standing in the middle of the room with no shirt and a loose towel around his waist.
“Jesus.” She dropped her gaze. “Put some clothes on.”
“Why?” The towel opened in the center when he moved. “Too much to handle?”
“Asshole.” Her voice shook, and she hoped he didn’t notice it.
“Your voice is shaking.” He licked his uneven lips. “You’re sweating too.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” She came off the terrace, brushing past him.
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm. “You can’t leave yet.”
“Let me go, Max.”
“Why?” He caressed her arms.
She jerked back, fixing her purse on her shoulder. “This s**t won’t work on me, remember? What is it you want...”
He shoved his lips over hers, sweeping his hand underneath her hair. “Mm.” He let go, staring as if he’d had the right to touch her. “What kind of lipstick is that?”
“I...” She touched her mouth.
“I like it.” He licked her pink gloss from his mouth. “Tastes like cherries.”
She froze.
“Why so quiet?” He slipped the towel off, exposing a long, semi-erect p***s.
“I...” Leslie batted her eyes, mouth open.
“You’re stunned.” He went into the bathroom and came out in a white, Turkish bathrobe. “You all right, Leslie?” He leaned back, moaning. “Damn, you look good. I’m glad you got out those old lady clothes.” He tied the robe while she remained paralyzed from the intrusive kiss. “Come on, Les.” He held his arms out. “Didn’t you miss me?”
She fell back on to the green, silk bedspread. “What do you want?”
“Well, I thought it was money before you got here looking so good.” He shuffled toward the TV. “You’re glowing. Maybe it’s being rich that’s making you so attractive.”
“Tell me what you want so I can go.”
“Admit you missed me.” He pressed his a*s against the table. “I missed you.”
“Why?”
“Like I said before I left...” He scratched over the tattoo. “We have unfinished business.”
“Is that why you kissed me?”
His lips pursed. “What do you think?”
“You’re confused, Max.”
“I’m not confused.” He got the bottle of lotion from the table and squeezed it into his palm. “I’m very intuitive, Leslie.”
“You seem to think there’s some kind of attraction going on here and it’s not.”
“I’m not convinced.” He spread lotion on his arm. “Did you like the kiss?”
She sighed.
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me. I felt how your body came alive when I touched you. Bet it doesn’t do that with Morgan Christian.”
She balled a fist. “What do you know about Morgan?”
“He can’t satisfy you like I could.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” She rushed to the door.
“Wait.”
“I’m not in the mood for this crap, Max. Now this flirting and stuff needs to stop because I’ve had it.”
“All right.” He held up his hands. “Just trying to get to the bottom of things.”
“There’s nothing to get to the bottom of. If you think I’m interested in you, then you’re a moron because it’s not true.”
He grinned. “All right. Whatever you say.”
“What do you know about Morgan?” She moved from the door. “I forgot. You keep tabs on anyone with money.”
“So you’re dating the Food Hut heir. Wow.” His shoulders dropped. “That franchise is worth over four hundred million. You hit the jackpot didn’t you, Leslie? I bet he wouldn’t have given you the time of day before you won that money. Am I wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Funny.” He nodded. “How come he didn’t ask you out back when you were cleaning Osana’s toilets?”
“I’m gone.” She grabbed the doorknob.
“All right, all right, all right.” He waved his hands. “I’ll leave that alone.”
“You’re not getting a dime from me, Max.”
“Oh yes I am.”
“Go to hell.” She opened the door.
“If you leave your daddy’s going to pay the price.”
She shut the door. “This won’t work on me.”
He wiggled his aquiline nose. “I’d bet all your winnings it will.”
“I’m such a fool.” She lay on the door. “When you left, I thought it was because you’d learned your lesson and that you didn’t want to continue hurting people but I was wrong. You’re a blackmailer and you’re never gonna change.”
“That’s right.” He winked. “How’s my princess doing, anyway?”
She pulled the purse off her arm. “She and Shad are engaged now.”
“Really?” He pressed his lips together.
“Does that bother you?”
“Nope. Osana was nothing but a mark.”
“You’re lying.”
“Well, that’s the past, and this is the present.” He gestured to her. “Don’t mistake me calling off the scam with Osana as weakness.”
“How’s Marta these days?” She smiled, doing her best to irritate him.
His chest muscles flexed. “We’re not married anymore.”
“Marta’s a saint for marrying you.” She frowned. “I can’t see how any woman would unless you made her.”
“I don’t care what you think of me or my life. Just like your dad doesn’t care about yours.”
“That was a horrible thing to say.”
“But true. He doesn’t talk to you and hasn’t in years.”
She sucked in tears. “You don’t know a damn thing about my father.”
“I know he has secrets.” He half-smiled. “You do too.”
“Let me guess.” She walked toward him. “You found out I won the lottery and dug into my background and found out what my father did.”
“Something like that.” He pressed his hand on the table. “You wanna tell me about it or should I do the honors?”
- Writer
