Her Sinful Secret (8 page)

Please don’t let anyone come.

But him.

She swirled her tongue along the ridge of the swollen, pulsing tip of his cock and he closed his eyes, threw back his head and gave himself over to the heated pleasure of her mouth.

She teased him, sucking hard and then easing up.
Moving her head in a fast rhythm and then slower.
Gripping his shaft in her fist, tight,
then
loosening her hold. He couldn’t anticipate what stroking or licking or sucking action she’d perform next, but each one brought him closer and closer to climaxing.

A jerk, hard and unexpected, yanked him from behind. The neck of his shirt tightened around his Adam’s apple, choking his airwaves as he was propelled backward. Landing flat on his back, he gasped for breath. With his now limp dick sticking out of his fly, he stared up at a masked man pressing a gun to his forehead with a leather-gloved hand.

Chapter Ten

“Lady, get out of the car or your john gets it,” The gunman shouted without taking his eyes or gun from Max.

“
Joh
…” Wendy stammered, sitting on the edge of the car seat, her feet planted on the macadam, her face stunned, her voice a shaky whisper.

The man in the
woollen
, black ski mask grabbed her wrist with his gun-free hand and wrenched her out of the car and onto her knees. Fear rounded her eyes. Max would’ve grabbed the man by his ankle to upend him, but with the handgun boring into his head, he’d have little chance of surviving long enough to be of any help to Wendy.

“I’d let you blow me too, but I don’t have time to fool around.” He waved the gun.
“On your hands and knees.”

Max flinched but could do little else. When she complied, she attempted to reach for Max when the assailant stepped on her hand. She cried out in pain. He laughed again, but this time the pitch of his glee was high and wild. He sounded deranged.

Max bided his time when every
fibre
of his being urged him to pounce and beat the crap out of the gunman, bullet or no bullet. But where would that leave Wendy?

“Any moves and you die.” The gun barrel stabbed against Max’s forehead with enough force to break the skin while their attacker ground his shoe heel into Wendy’s hand. She whimpered.

“Any heroics and she’ll pray to die before I’m done with her.” The gunman lifted his work-booted foot.

Max cringed, fearing he’d stomp on her hand, perhaps breaking bones. He lunged to meet the gun butt smashing against the bridge of his nose and a boot heel against his groin, the brunt of which he dodged. Once he was down again bleeding and in pain, the car thief pushed Wendy flat on her stomach.

Asshole
.
Max fisted his hands at his sides to keep his cool. He might be able to get a punch in…before they both got shot.

“I don’t have much cash on me, but I have a credit card.” Max figured he could pay off the crook for now and deal with him another day. He’d track him down if it took him and a dozen PIs a lifetime.

With a smirk visible through the mouth hole of the ski mask, the attacker nodded towards Max’s open fly. “Take your wallet
outta
your pants pocket.” He snickered. “Slow. One quick move and I pull the trigger and blow your cock off.”

Glad not to have the jerk rustling in his jeans while he was exposed, Max slipped the wallet from his back pocket and held it away from himself. The man snatched it.

“Both of you stay down until I drive off.” He lifted the mask away from his lower face, his chin and mouth red and wet from sweat, and sneered at the car. “What a waste of a sweet ride. Beats me why anyone would want a damn hybrid and in pearl blue no less. But my customers want fancy.”
 

Wendy’s blue eyes glittered with pain and fear. They pleaded with Max to stay down.

He swallowed his male pride and let the gunman go without trying to tackle him. His dignity was a small price to pay in exchange for Wendy’s safety.

He watched helplessly as the gunman jumped in the driver’s seat, tore off his knitted ski mask and tossed it on the seat next to him. With a squeal of wheels, the carjacker sped out of the lot, quickly blending into the heavy expressway traffic.

“Are you okay?” Max shook off his pain and rolled to his feet to help Wendy up. Her legs were rubbery as she stood. She inhaled large gulps of air as if to ward off a crying jag.

He steadied her with his arm around her shoulder. “How bad is your hand? Can you flex your fingers?”

She nodded and wriggled them to show him she could.

His heart pounded. Now that it was over, reality sank in. He hugged her to him. If he’d lost her…no, he couldn’t even think about it.

Gripping his arm for support, she brushed dirt from her scraped knees. “My purse and cell are in the car.”

“My cell’s in my pocket. Lucky my open zipper kept the creep from frisking me.” He hoped his levity would wipe the fear from her face.

She forced a laugh.

Ah, it worked.

Zipping his fly, he
chuckled,
relieved she wasn’t hurt or still scared.

“We can skip over that particular detail when we report the carjacking.” She tore off a piece of her blouse to blot the blood dripping down his face.

“Thanks.” He took the cloth and held it to the bridge of his nose. With his other hand, he dug his phone from his jeans pocket and flipped it open. After pressing 9-1-1 and giving the operator the details, he and Wendy sat on the ground and waited.

She glanced at him. “If they found out all the details, the police and the news media would brand us for life.
BJ and the bandit.”
A small burst of laughter slipped from her lips.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“How about BJ and—”

“How about just a BJ?”
He silenced her with a kiss so hot he forgot about his facial pain.

She groped for his fly but was interrupted by the sirens and flashing lights of the ambulance and the police car.
Damn
.

Nine-one-one sent paramedics. Although Max’s main injury was to his dignity, he rode in the ambulance to ensure Wendy had her hand examined.

He’d wanted to help her go after her dream, not keep her from it. He hoped her chance to draw hadn’t been ruined before she’d begun. He should’ve been more diligent when they were in such a compromising position, instead of losing himself in pursuit of his sexual satisfaction.

* * * *

At the hospital, Max and Wendy filled out insurance and health information.

“Operations?
Accidents?”

“I had an injury and surgery to my testes from playing football when I was eighteen.” Max
glanced
her way and her heart swelled with sympathy.

Later, in the waiting room, she pursued it further. “Is your injury the reason you don’t foresee children in your future?”

He nodded. “I’m sterile. Over the years, I’ve come to
realise
I don’t need to be a father to feel fulfilled. I would’ve told you eventually when we became more serious.”

“I imagine your infertility put the hitch in making a baby with your ex-wife.” She took his hand to comfort him. “Did you two consider a sperm bank?”

“No, my ex didn’t plan to use a turkey
baster
. She had designs on my best friend’s genes and his injector.”

“His cock,” she whispered, shocked.

He grinned despite the seriousness of the conversation. “You never cease to surprise me. I mean that in a nice way.” He clasped her uninjured hand tighter.

* * * *

They spent the next two hours at the hospital waiting to be examined. Afterward, they gave their statements to a cop at the police station who used the two-finger method of keyboarding on his computer.

Unfortunately, Wendy and Max still had to return to the dealership to claim his car. She could’ve taken a taxi home and dealt with the residual unpleasantness in the morning, but she refused to let him face the curious looks and questions alone. Bruised and bandaged and dirty, she looked more battered than she felt.

Max didn’t look much better with his swollen nose, despite the ice pack applied at the hospital. His mouth formed a grim line. He was apparently still angry at himself for letting their attacker escape. As if he’d had a choice.

Men.

But she didn’t have much time to dwell on men with Marsha bearing down on them as soon as they entered the office.

“The police were here. They said you were all right, but how did it happen?” Marsha asked, nosy as always. “The cops said it was mall carjacking. Didn’t either of you see him coming?” Her eyes narrowed.

She eyeballed them suspiciously, as if their clothes weren’t buttoned and their wounds
mercurochromed
. Almost as if she could see them enjoying oral sex before the thief took them down.

Wendy blushed. Forty-something and she blushed.
Gawd
, but Max was good for her ego.

“I was checking the tire pressure,” Max said.

Oh, yeah, that was believable
. Wendy stared at him and attempted to keep her jaw from hanging open.

“Why didn’t you wait until you returned to the dealership?” Marsha didn’t try to hide her disbelief.

Adding to the fray, along came her son, tall and lanky, his phone plastered to his ear. “Tyler.” Wendy ran over to her only child, happy to see him, even if Max’s presence would likely piss him off.

He clicked the phone shut and kissed her cheek, his concern for her safety clearly overshadowing his peeve where Max was concerned. “The police told me you’d left. I was frantic to find you. You weren’t at home so I raced over here on the off-chance. Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine. The doctor swears my hand will heal with no problems.” She flexed her fingers as proof. “I don’t need anything now that you’re here.”

He put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry for acting like such a jackass. I should trust your
judgement
. You have every right to find happiness wherever.”

Max was obviously the wherever because Tyler held his hand out to him. “I want to thank you for looking out for my mother.”

Max took Tyler’s hand but frowned at Wendy’s bandage. “I should’ve protected her better.”

“You did everything you could,” she said.

Max didn’t look convinced.

Tyler
waved his cell phone. “That call was the police. They found the car, dusted it for fingerprints and released it.”

“That was fast.” Max shoved his hands into his jeans, drawing her attention to how snugly they fit. All thoughts of cars fled. The man had a devastatingly sexual effect on her. She smiled, liking it and him more every minute.

“The thief ran out of gas,” Tyler told them.

“We’ll go and pick it up,” she said.

Her son shook his head. “You two look beat. I’ll go. One of the salespeople will drop me off. Go on home.
Both of you.”
He squeezed her shoulder.

She kissed and hugged her son, happy and relieved to have peace restored between them. Max then walked with her to his Jag.

“Looks like we have my son’s blessing.”
She smiled, amazed at how well the day had turned out after all.

“I felt like a jerk accepting his thanks after endangering your life.” He held the car door open and helped her in.

“You didn’t. The gun-toting thief did. Please, let it go, Max.” Joy seeped from her tired body.

Once he climbed behind the wheel and studied her face, he forced a grin. “I don’t want to put a damper on your reconciliation with Tyler.”

The ride home was quiet except for a CD of soft rock music, and she felt re-
energised
by the time he pulled into her driveway.

“Why don’t you come in?” She stroked his arm. “Stay the night. I’ll put another ice pack on your nose, and we can lick each other’s wounds.”

“I got kicked in the nuts, if you recall.” He arched an eyebrow, showing his interest in her offer.

With a wink, she dangled her house keys and he took them.

Chapter Eleven

Max carried Wendy’s nude, wet body from the shower into her bedroom. Clean and invigorated by the soap and water as well as from seeing her slick and wet, he planned to make it up to her for all she’d been through today. After the fright of their carjacking, she was badly in need of some pampering. He was just the man to give it to her. He prided himself on giving as much as he took in the bedroom.

He placed her on the bed, lay down next to her and kissed her injured hand.

“That feels better already.” She
unravelled
her soggy bandage and dropped it into the nearby wastebasket.