Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2)
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“There's nothing wrong with it,” she continued. “A little dance for you, that's all. It's not like you've got to get naked.”

She ground herself against my lap. Guilt washed over me at how much I enjoyed it.

“Lola, I really shouldn't.” She tried to rub me through my pants. Oh, God. “My girlfriend would kill me.”

“But she doesn't have to know. Why not live a little before it's too late?”

Beer plus boobs plus me always equaled disaster. In my half-drunk haze, I let her lead me away from the bar to a private alcove. She pushed me into the seat and proceeded to dance for me.

Why was I so bad at resisting this? I thought I loved Anna, but what if I wasn't ready for marriage? Maybe she deserved someone better, who could be faithful to her and strong enough to look away from temptation like this.

Two other ladies entered the small room and shook their asses for me, too. My male instincts cried out to touch them – they certainly encouraged it – but stuffed my hands under my butt so I wouldn't dare.

“You need to loosen up,” said the brunette called Cocoa. “Here. I brought you a cold drink from the bar.”

I reluctantly took it and sipped.

“C'mon, drink it all down! This is your night to party.”

Well, the beer
was
frosty the way I liked it. I gulped; they cheered. In a few minutes, my head felt full of cotton, like it did when I'd worked my way through a twelve pack. But I hadn't drank that much. Had I?

They danced more, closer and closer. Another beer came. Soon, my body felt heavy, as if weighed down by a thousand bricks. Even when two girls sat at my sides, pawing all over me, I was too weak to resist.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Oh, he looks tired,” purred Cocoa.

“Yeah, maybe I am.” I tried pushing her away. My arm didn't want to move. “I think... Think I've had enough for now, ladies. I really gotta go find my friends.”

She put another drink to my lips. I accepted it without knowing why. It was almost like my brain just couldn't say no.

“Don't you worry about your friends, Max. They'll be just fine.”

Lola returned to the room looking very upset. “My boyfriend ditched me here,” she exclaimed. “He was my ride home.”

“Uh... Sorry to hear that.”

She brightened. “Hey, Max, do you think you can give me a ride? I only live a few blocks away, but I simply can't be walking home dressed like this in such a neighborhood.”

I didn't know why I said yes. Didn't know why I shuffled down the side hall with her toward the back exit, like a zombie.

And that's where my memory of the night ended.

 

I woke up with a massively aching head and the worst case of cotton mouth ever. Light hurt my eyes. In fact,
everything
seemed to hurt.

“Uh, guys? That must have been some party,” I muttered.

When the cool morning breeze blew across my naked body and sharp blades of grass pricked my back, I realized something was very wrong.

Despite the agony I was in, I forced myself to sit up and look around. The guys were nowhere to be found. I wasn't in the club anymore. I wasn't even
indoors.

I was lying on the side of the highway in a ditch, and yes, just as I feared, my clothes were all gone. My car was parked just up ahead, the doors open and engine still running.

Cuts and bruises covered my body in random spots, as if I'd fallen out of the car while it was going forty miles per hour.

I'd never been so confused in my life.

“How the hell did I end up here?” I jogged to the car, one hand over my crotch so as not to frighten any unsuspecting drivers. “Did I get robbed?”

Angry and scared that I let this happen to me, I sank into the safety of my car and slammed the door.

My clothes from last night waited for me in a crumpled pile in the passenger's seat. As I hurried to put them on, I found my wallet in the back pocket of my pants. Nothing in it had been taken.

I drove back to my apartment, rattled beyond words as I tried to piece together how I got here. I was at that party with the boys. Those strippers pulled me away for a “dance.” They kept feeding me beer and rubbing all over me.

Then... That one girl, Lola, needed a ride home. Beyond that? Nothing. Just a blank, black hole where memories should have been.

“What in the
fuck?

I pounded the steering wheel. Wasn't sure whether to be furious or terrified. Was this a mess of my own making? Did I get totally black-out drunk and drive myself into a ditch? Things like this, sadly, had happened to me before.

But no, that was dumb. I had what, maybe six beers? To a guy of my bulk, that was nothing. Except I did recall feeling fuzzy in the head after just three.

And getting drunk didn't explain why I was
naked
in a ditch. Where did Lola go? Whatever happened to her?

I reached my apartment complex in record time. Just as I pulled into my assigned spot, a pair of police cruisers caught my eye. They were parked right in front of my unit.

I got out of the car. Two cops waited for me on my balcony.

Oh, shit.

I swallowed hard, fought my fear, and walked slowly up the steps. The men turned and looked me up and down.

“Are you Max McLaren?”

“That's me, officer. How can I help you?”

He whirled me around and shoved me against the balcony so hard, my ribs might have broke. If I weren't in such shock, I would have swung at him, cop or not.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he snarled. “You're under arrest for the alleged sexual assault of Lola Martinez.”

Sexual assault?

“Hey, now, what are y'all talking about?” He slapped cuffs around my wrists too tight. “I didn't assault anybody. What kind of asshole do you take me for?”

“We don't take you for anything, son.” The chubbier cop grabbed my arm and pulled me downstairs. “We're bringing you in for questioning. If you're really innocent, you got nothing to worry about.”

“But I
am
innocent! Get your paws off me right this instant! I got no time for this. I'm getting married in three days.”

The cop snorted. “Unfortunately, you'll have to put your wedding on hold. This could take a while.”

I found myself in a police car once again, right after I vowed to be a good man for Anna. Oh, God, Anna! What was she going to think?

“I don't know what happened, but I didn't do anything wrong.”

“That's what they all say.”

Pure fear filled my veins. What if the cops were right? I couldn't recall last night, after all. What if I really had done something terrible?

I thought of Anna's pretty face, of how good she was to me. Maybe I never should have left Bastrop. Maybe I should have stayed there, in her arms, forever.

If I ever got out of this mess, I swore I'd run right back to her and never leave.

 

Chapter 21 - Anna

 

Two days left until the wedding. I couldn't wait for this whole thing to be over with.

Mom had taken control over everything, as she did. She demanded to choose what dresses the bridesmaids wore, where we held the reception, what food would be served... On and on it went.

“No, we can't hang crepe paper from the windows. That would look utterly
tacky.

We toured the reception hall with a five-star wedding decorator she'd hired on dad's dime, desperate to fix some last-minute “mistakes” the first one had made. The two of them walked ahead of me, with mom dictating her desires and the decorator nodding as she furiously wrote it all down in her notebook.

I trailed behind, sipping my bottled water and missing Max.

Last night had been the bachelor party dad bought for him. He'd called me before he left to chat about our day, but he hadn't mentioned the party, and so neither did I. I hadn't heard a word from him since.

Of course, I worried.

“Gracious, not those bulky, ugly goblets. Those frumpy things are for cavemen. The gold-lipped champagne flutes are much more refined.”

“Yes, Mrs. Southwell. You're absolutely right. Although it might be difficult ordering so many on such short notice.”

This whole thing stressed me out, and that wasn't good for the baby. That's exactly what Max would have said.

Boy, I wished he was here.

Nobody noticed me slip outside. The hot, dry, late summer air felt nice after freezing in that cold building for hours.

“I just can't do this anymore, Trey.”

I caught the middle of a heated conversation between Rachael and Trey. They were sitting on the patio, taste-testing a variety of foods for the reception dinner. Rachael threw her fork down and started to cry.

“Babe, what's wrong? You've been acting so weepy and depressed for weeks now.”

Trey put an arm around her. She shrugged it off.

“It's not fair,” she wailed. “I want to get married, too. You and I have been dating for six years, and we haven't even gotten engaged yet.”

Poor Trey looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Well, uh, I thought you were happy with the way we were. I know
I'm
very happy...”

“I want a
ring!

I had to laugh. She wanted a ring? What about me?

Yeah, my left hand was devoid of an engagement ring. Max hadn't bought me one, nor had he ever officially proposed.

But of course he didn't, right? He didn't have to; that was silly. Why bother proposing when dad pretty much made the decision for me?

“Ray, this isn't a good time,” Trey said softly. “Can we at least try to be happy for your sister?”

“Are you delusional?” She laughed at him. “Their whole relationship is a sham, and you know it. I don't understand why nobody else seems to notice. I mean, you seriously think Max of all guys actually wants to settle down?”

“What he does isn't my business. If he's satisfied, and if he treats Anna good, that's all I care about.”

“Treats her good? C'mon, Trey. He's your brother. You know how he is.” She stabbed her salmon with the fork. “He's not coming back here.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

I was about to carefully inject myself in their conversation – Trey looked like he needed backup – when dad's screaming-red Corvette whipped into the parking lot.

He had a lot of cars, but I always hated that one the most. It was the kind of car a man bought for his midlife crisis after leaving his wife for an eighteen-year-old college girl.

Dad stepped out, his face grim. He carried with him a thick yellow envelope and strode directly to me.

“I'm afraid Max got himself into some trouble last night, Anna.”

“Trouble?”

“Yes. He's been arrested.”

A combination of shock and the sweltering heat made me dizzy and faint. I slumped into the bench, thinking surely this had to be a joke on dad's part.

“What do you mean? Where is he?”

Dad sighed. “He's at the Waco Police Department currently. They're investigating him for sexually assaulting a young woman.”

It was so ridiculous that I had to laugh. Dad didn't, though. His expression remained flat, almost emotionless.

“I said I would give him a chance. I gave him a test to prove himself – and he failed.”

“No, this is insane. He would never assault a woman.”

Would he? I figured the very worst he'd do would maybe be hit up a strip club with his friends. I disliked the idea, but it was sort of a bachelor-party tradition, so I made myself accept it, if somewhat begrudgingly.

“Sadly, I have proof that Max isn't the good man you think he is.” He cracked open the envelope. “This is why I paid for the party. I had eyes on him there. Friends of mine who were glad to do me this favor to save you a lifetime of pain.”

In the envelope was a stack of photos. The very first one showed Max and his buddies, drinks in hand as they ogled topless girls on a stage. It certainly looked like he was having a good time. Seeing him check out other girls made me anxious, but I expected this much.

“This is the tamest of them all.” He flipped to the next. “Just how far would he go, do you suppose? How well do you really think you know him?”

In this one, there was a half-naked girl sitting on his
lap.
He didn't look very eager to push her away. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“I told you so, Anna. That boy is nothing but trouble. He's always been a man-whore, and he always will be.”

Rachael stood nearby, looking very pleased with herself. Trey tried to pull her away, but she wasn't having it.

There were many more pictures like those. In them, Max seemed to be getting more and more drunk. One photo showed two women straddling him on either side. In the next, a girl had her chest right in his face.

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