Page 47 of Maxim
I’m about to take a fourth but stop myself at the last minute. Carbs are bad for me. I struggle with my weight at the best of times, and although sex is a workout to rival no other, I can’t afford to keep stuffing my face.
“Have one more,” Max says while grabbing another for himself.
“No, I shouldn’t.” He frowns.
“Why not?”
Fuck, I should have known he’d ask why. The guy can probably eat a fucking cow and not gain an ounce of fat but me? Hmm. Thanks to my Italian genes, I am not blessed with a slim, svelte figure.
“Because…” I hedge, drink the last of my coffee, and consider a second cup. I have a shit ton to do today, so additional caffeine is needed for sure.
“Natalya,” he purrs as he slides off his chair and stalks around the table toward me. “Your curves are sexy as hell.” From the way his eyes light up when my dress parts at the front, I know he’s not lying. But it doesn’t stop the gremlins in my head shouting obscenities.
“I thought men preferred slim women.” At least that’s the impression I get when I scroll social media, and also on nights out, where I’m usually overlooked in favor of my beautiful, slender friends.
He shrugs dismissively. “I’m sure some guys do,” he admits. “However, my type is you.” I try not to blush when he steps into my personal space and cups my face. “You’re perfect for me, so do not ever refuse food that you want to eat because of some misguided belief I won’t want you if you gain a few pounds. Trust me, I will.” I feel his gaze on me, warm and serious. “Do you believe me?”
Strangely, I do. Maybe it’s because I can feel him hard and insistent against my thigh, but mostly it’s because his eyes are full of sincerity.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now eat another fucking pancake if you want one.” He drops a kiss on my lips before stepping back. “I’m going for a quick shower and then we can do anything you want. I’m all yours for the day.”
My brows shoot up. I assumed he was taking me home and then disappearing to do whatever busy ‘import/export/hotel owners’ do.
The whole hotel ownership thing was one of the more interesting things he let slip last night while we chatted over dinner. The fact he owns several hotels, one of which is the best and most luxurious hotel in the city, came as something of a surprise. Kind of.
I mean, it is obvious he’s wealthy. The apartment we’re currently in is prime real estate and I know these units sell for millions. I had assumed his wealth was acquired by less conventional means, but it looks like I was wrong.
Which I’m pleased about. It still doesn’t explain how he dealt with the guy who harassed me in the park, but for now, I’m refusing to look too closely at what happened that night.
Chapter thirty-four
Nat
The table I’ve managed to snag is by the window but tucked away in a corner. I’m two coffees in and making headway with my notes, filling out some details in the skeleton of the article I’m currently working on.
Analyzing why women always go for bad boys is proving more interesting than I expected. I was lucky enough to interview a leading psychologist as part of my research, and a lot of what she said resonated with me.
Nobody could possibly deny that Max, for example, has very masculine traits. Or that maybe I’m drawn to strong, powerful men because I feel anything but.
It’s also true that with his looks, any child Max sires would hit the genetic lottery.
I was less amused to learn men like this rarely make good long-term partners, even if dating ‘bad boys’ typically leads to great sex and dangerous adventures.
Not that it’s fair to blame Max for leading me into danger. I’ve managed that all on my own.
I have a feeling that I won’t be the only woman who reads this article and hears a light bulb ping in her brain. Thankfully, Dr. Slade was good enough to tell me bad boys are rarely monogamous and most of them need fixing in some way.
Not knowing Max all that well, it’s hard to say whether he has deep-rooted emotional baggage, but since I have more than enough for both of us, it doesn’t matter. Whatever this is between us won’t last.
I’m a fling to him. Pure and simple. He sees me as a challenge but sooner or later, he’ll get bored and move on. The quicker I get used to the idea, the easier it will be to cope when the inevitable happens and he ghosts me.
Because why wouldn’t he?
Compared to the women he usually dates, I’m no great catch. OK, so I have no clue what kind of women he dates, but he’s ridiculously good-looking, wealthy, and charming. He probably has a whole host of gorgeous women lining up to take my place.
Like the brunette who’s just walked into the cafe with her friend. She scans the room, tossing her shiny hair and soaking up the admiring glances from patrons. This is exactly the kind of woman Max would be seen with.