Page 39 of Maxim
Just as I’m drying my hands, the bathroom door swings open, and Max steps in.
“What are you…?” I look up, confused. Has he taken a wrong turn?
“Malyshka…” He walks over and takes me in his arms. “You’re upset. Tell me why, so I can kill whoever made you sad.” It’s such a ridiculously OTT thing to say that I can’t help but choke out a laugh.
“It’s nothing,” I hedge, feeling stupid now. “I’m just being insecure.”
“Insecure?” he repeats, perplexed. “You have nothing to be insecure about.” One hand slides lower and rests just above the curve of my ass. It feels good. Possessive. I like it.
“It’s just that…” I pause, struggling to put my thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. “It’s that… Rick, the guy you…um… spoke to last year… used to flirt with other women all the time, in front of me… and watching that waitress flirt… it… well…”
Max freezes at my words, his muscles rigid. My back is to the mirror so I can’t see his expression but instinct tells me I’ve fucked up. He must think I’m so stupid. A needy, pathetic woman.
“You think I want that girl?” His voice is calm, deceptively so, but there’s an undercurrent of anger in it that makes me nervous. I try to step back but his arms are locked around my body and there’s nowhere to go.
“No… of course not… I just…”
“Malyshka,” he murmurs against my hair, relaxing slightly. “The only woman I want is you.” He cups my ass and pulls me closer. “Every man in this restaurant is jealous of me because I’m taking you home tonight. Not them.”
I snort a little against his chest. He’s delusional. I’m not going home with him again.
“You don’t believe me,” he says with a sigh before muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, “I should have killed that fucker.”
“I want to believe you,” I admit.
“Then let me show you how much I want you.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Max
I meant what I said. Natalya is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant. Not only is she fiercely intelligent but she’s as stunning on the inside as she is on the outside. I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off her all evening.
The waitress she thinks I’ve noticed doesn’t hold a candle to my malyshka. How she doesn’t see what I see is a mystery to me, but if I ever cross paths with that asshole I beat to a pulp in a bathroom a year ago, I will tear him to pieces.
I might even ask Sasha to track him down for me. It would improve my mood considerably if I paid the mudak a visit. But for now, I’ll put that plan on hold.
My first priority is Natalya. She needs to know how sexy and beautiful I think she is.
She tries to protest when I lift her onto the counter. This isn’t the most salubrious location for what I have planned, but I refuse to give her any more time to stew over her insecurities. This is all about showing her how much I want her.
Before she can say another word, I push her thighs apart and my mouth is on hers. She tastes exquisite and I can’t get enough of her. Her lips part to allow me entry. The harder I kiss her, the more she melts in my arms, her soft breasts pressed against my chest.
It’s addicting. I could kiss her for hours, which is unlike me. Kissing is intimate, so I rarely bother. With her, though, it feels natural.
By the time she’s breathless and my cock is painfully hard, I break away, rubbing my thumb across her swollen lips.
“We should get back,” she murmurs, not sounding all that convinced.
“Not yet.” Kissing her is only the aperitif. I’m just getting started here.
I step back and slowly push the silky fabric of her dress up her thighs. Her eyes widen and she looks panicked.
“Max, we can’t!”
“Shush, malyshka, nobody will disturb us.” They sure as shit will not disturb us. I stuck an ‘out of order’ sign on the door before I stepped in. There’s another bathroom nearby; nobody will be too inconvenienced.
My cock presses against my zipper, desperate for relief, but I ignore it. I can wait.