From Leather to Lace (3 page)

“Hello, Sarah, I’m glad you could make it,” Max said to her as he kissed her on the cheek in greeting. “Everything okay?” he asked as he gave James a tight smile.

“Maxwell,” Sarah breathed. “Everything is lovely—it’s so nice to see you again.”

As she gazed up at him she felt butterflies set up a relentless fluttering in the pit of her stomach. God, he was more gorgeous than she remembered. As his dark eyes gazed intently into hers, the fluttering feeling became more intense. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a lovesick teenager with a massive crush! Trying to regain her composure, she stepped back a little and self-consciously ran her hand through her hair.

“You have a lovely home, Maxwell,” she said to him. “Thank you for inviting me today.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he responded, handing her a glass of champagne. “I’m very glad that you could make it.”

Sarah took the glass gratefully, thankful for the diversion and something to do with her hands.

Max gave Roxy a peck on the cheek and greeted the men before ordering more beers from a hovering waiter. Now that he had turned his attention to the others, Sarah took a moment to study him. He was as tall as she remembered and dressed in dark jeans and an open-necked white shirt. His square jaw was lightly stubbled and his dark hair, expertly cut to suggest careless disarray, curled just above his collar. He was healthily tanned, which indicated that he enjoyed outdoor pursuits, and his body was toned and muscular. He obviously worked out—a lot! Sarah felt her stomach performing flip-flops once again and hoped that the heat she felt in her cheeks was not obvious. As if attuned to her thoughts, he turned to her and fixed her with his dark gaze.

“Has it only been two weeks since Roxy’s party?” he asked.

“Yes, but it seems like longer.”
Probably because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then.
“I enjoyed meeting you that night and hoped that we might run into each other again, as you didn’t ask me for my number,” Sarah said lightly, hoping that she sounded teasingly nonchalant.

Max frowned before his smouldering gaze found hers once more. “That
is
unlike me. I don’t usually hesitate in going after something that I want,” he stated, “but you’re…” He hesitated. “Different.”

What was she supposed to make of that? Good different or bad different? She looked at him quizzically.

“Good different,” he said softly as if reading her thoughts.

“Well, Mr McIver, if I am ‘good different’, how did that stop you asking me for my number?” Sarah asked with a laugh.

He looked at her intently. “Because I saw something special in you that caught me off guard and I have to admit I wasn’t quite sure that you would have given me your number. That was two strikes—I’m not accustomed to feeling off guard and I’m used to getting what I want.” He shrugged. “I’ve made it up to you now, I hope, and redeemed myself. I’m glad you accepted my invitation even though it was made through Roxy.”

“I’m very glad you extended it.”

His intense gaze was unnerving her—she had the distinct impression that he was trying to peer into her soul and she shivered under his scrutiny.

“I’d like to show you around,” he said suddenly.

He grabbed a bottle of champagne from a hovering waiter then took Sarah by the hand and tugged her in the direction of the house. Sarah glanced quickly over her shoulder to catch her friend’s eye but Roxy, having seen her departing, just winked wickedly in her direction.

* * * *

Maxwell’s house was truly magnificent and very male—no frills or frippery. The rooms were obviously professionally decorated and could have been mistaken for a display home but for the numerous works of art that adorned many of the walls. She could see the artworks had not been chosen for their colours or design aesthetic but for their character and subject matter. Maxwell told Sarah that the artwork had all been chosen by him and collected over a period of years so she had been given a glimpse into his personality as she studied his choices. His taste was both eclectic and traditional and ranged from large contemporary originals dotted throughout the living areas to the Rubenesque ladies in Norman Lindsay originals adorning some of the bedrooms—he obviously appreciated the female form.

Much later, after a tour of his house, some dancing and several glasses of champagne, they were seated on a large comfortable outdoor lounge on the upstairs balcony, enjoying the sight of the harbour lights as they glimmered off the water. Sarah was feeling decidedly tipsy and laughed appreciatively as Max recounted an amusing tale that featured Roxy and Adam and an unfortunate excursion in Max’s boat. She could really fall for Maxwell McIver, she thought drowsily as she sipped her champagne. He had all the attributes that she looked for in a man—wit, charm, intelligence and great looks. Sighing, she leant back in her chair and closed her eyes in contentment.

“Am I boring you?” he asked sardonically.

“No, of course not,” she replied, opening her eyes to look at him. “The champagne, the view…and the company—it’s all quite intoxicating and I am completely relaxed,” she told him candidly.

“Really, you find the company intoxicating as well?” he asked, leaning towards her.

“Yes, very intoxicating.” God, the champagne was making her flirtatious!

He fixed his gaze on her, his eyes darkening subtly. She wanted him to touch her. Her eyes drifted to his lips and she imagined what his kiss would feel like. As if reading her mind he closed the distance between them so he was pressed against her.

“Do you find this intoxicating?” he asked, nibbling her earlobe. “Or this?” he said, kissing her neck and running his lips over the soft skin behind her ear.

“Oh yes,” she gasped as she felt her nipples grow erect and strain against the soft fabric of her dress.

As he kissed her neck he brushed his thumb tantalisingly lightly over one nipple then the other. He trailed his other hand down her bare back sending shivers along her spine and hardening her nipples further. She thought vaguely that things were moving faster than she was comfortable with but his mouth on her felt too good to resist and his skilful caresses were driving liquid heat straight to her core.

“You know that your nipples betray what you’re feeling,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “They tell me what you like. When I kiss your neck like this”—he brushed his lips lightly over her skin—“they get hard.”

Sarah swayed against him and he demonstrated his words by rubbing his thumb over the pebbled peak of each of her breasts as his lips continued their sensual assault on her neck.

“You know that I want to fuck you before this evening is over? I’ve wanted nothing more than to bury myself in you since I met you,” he mumbled against her ear as his fingers traced slow, sensuous circles over her right nipple.

Her insides tightened and a thrill shot through her at his erotic words. She lifted her arms and ran her hands through his hair as her breath quickened and she arched her back to press her breast harder into his palm.

He pulled away from her. She whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and opened her eyes to see him looking at her intently.

“If we are going to do this I want you to know that I don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases,” he said softly. “I get tested regularly—paperwork’s inside,” he continued with a crooked grin.

Sarah arched an eyebrow at his sudden revelation but was pleased that he had raised the subject.

“I’m healthy too. My paperwork is at home, though. I don’t run around with my health check results in my handbag,” she giggled. “But I’m not on the pill so we need protection.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do to get you knocked up, Ms Maddox. Now the preliminaries are out of the way, I can continue to seduce you,” he said as he trailed a hand up and down her spine.

She swayed and closed her eyes, drunk on the sensations he was arousing in her. She felt his lips close over her own before he kissed her passionately, his lips searing hers—branding her. Moaning, she returned his fervour and probed his mouth deeply with her tongue. She wriggled closer to him and brought one hand up behind his head to hold him in place while with the other she found his erection and stroked him through his jeans.

Groaning, he grabbed her backside with both hands and in one swift movement pulled her on top of him, her legs either side of his own. One of her dress straps had slipped down her shoulder, exposing a breast and a taut nipple. He palmed her breast and manipulated the nipple until it was fully extended then laved it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking deeply. Sarah gasped and thrust her breast against him, pushing it deeper into his mouth. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she clutched him hard against her, her fingernails digging into hard muscle and sinew.

“Bite it,” she moaned.

Complying, he grazed his teeth over her nipple before nibbling and biting it until she shuddered with pleasure. She felt his cock hard and throbbing between her legs. She wanted to touch him again, needed to feel his hot maleness, and she moved her hand down between them to massage him through the fabric of his jeans.

“God, I want to fuck you,” he growled as he pulled her other shoulder strap down so that she now sat astride him bare-breasted. Kneading a breast with each hand, he sucked one nipple then the other, drawing each one into his mouth hungrily. Sarah felt like she was floating, drunk on lust and champagne and totally uninhibited as she threw her head back, delighting in the sensations his mouth was creating…

Was that a door closing? Holding her breath for a second, she strained an ear to any unfamiliar noise when she heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice.

“Maxxy? Maxxy, are you here?” the woman called, her voice growing nearer.

Sarah froze and quickly pulled up the straps of her dress as she struggled to get off Maxwell’s lap but he held her firmly in place, his hands clamped around her waist. She could feel his cock, hard and pulsating beneath her. At some stage he had undone his jeans and now he grabbed her hand and closed it around his erection. She jumped slightly in surprise at the size of it and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll go away,” he said as he caressed her arm lightly.

Sarah was having none of it, whoever ‘she’ was. She didn’t want her stumbling across them
in flagrante
. What if she was his girlfriend? Or worse—his mother!

Determinedly she wrestled out of his hold, stood up and adjusted her dress just as she heard the woman open the bedroom door and call out.

“Max, are you in here?”

Anger flashed in Maxwell’s eyes as he stood and re-zipped his jeans.

“She’ll go away, Sarah. I want you, here, now,” he said roughly.

Sarah was astounded. “I’m not some plaything that you can do with what you please,” she whispered loudly. “Perhaps you should have ensured our privacy a little more carefully.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ll get rid of her,” he stated as he stood up and opened the sliding door that led into the bedroom before striding through.

Not knowing what to do next, Sarah poured herself a glass of champagne and sat down. She knew Maxwell and the woman were still in the bedroom so she had no intention of going in there. Then she heard the woman speaking.

“Max, what on earth were you doing out there?”

Ignoring her question, he posed one of his own. “What are
you
doing in my bedroom?”

“I was looking for you, of course,” she said huskily.

God, who is this woman?
A moment later Sarah got her answer.

“I thought we were finished, Angelique,” Max said brusquely.

“I know you like to think that but don’t you miss me?”

Sarah rose and peeked through the sliding door, glad of the covering darkness on the balcony that provided a mirror effect on the glass. Angelique was standing in the middle of the bedroom. She was tall and slim and wearing a tight-fitting bandage dress. Sarah had to concede that she was quite attractive if not a little too angular. She had that extreme slimness that wealthy society women seemed to aspire to.

Maxwell strode towards Angelique and wrapped an arm around her waist to steer her farther back towards the door. Angelique cast an inquisitive look in the direction of the balcony before allowing herself to be led away.

“What is it, Maxxy, why are you acting this way?” she said to him as he continued to guide her in the direction of the door.

“I’m busy, Angelique. I have some business to attend to and I would like some privacy in which to do so. I’ll see you downstairs later.”

Sarah could still see the pair as Angelique stopped and turned towards Maxwell and put her hand on his arm. By the look on her face it was clear to Sarah that Angelique had feelings for Maxwell that surpassed friendship and, whilst Maxwell might think that whatever they had was finished, it was obvious that Angelique did not.

“Max, are you hiding something from me?” she asked, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips suggestively.

“Why would I be hiding something from you? And besides, I shouldn’t have to remind you that we are no longer together, Angelique. Remember we discussed this,” Max responded, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

As Sarah watched from her position on the balcony Angelique moved closer to Max so her chest was pressed hard against his and tipped her head back a little so she could look into his eyes.

“Don’t you want me, Maxxy?” she purred seductively, her hands resting on his upper arms. Then as Sarah watched on in astonishment Angelique grasped the back of Maxwell’s head and brought it down to meet hers and started to kiss him passionately. And even more astonishing was that Maxwell didn’t pull away.

Sarah couldn’t watch the tableau and spun around to stare out at the twinkling lights of the harbour. She moved as far away from the balcony door as possible, not wanting to see or hear anything further from the pair in the bedroom. She was mortified and embarrassed by her predicament—she couldn’t believe that she had been very nearly sucked in by Maxwell McIver. Now here she was, stuck on his bedroom balcony with no hope of immediate escape.