Meet Your Mate (A Good Riders Romance Book 1) (14 page)

Seated next to him in her erotic
princess get-up, Annabel grew quieter with each course, although she tried to
hide her jitters behind a smile.

“Are you done with that?” a harried
waiter asked, preparing to remove the plate of Parmesan chicken she’d mostly
rearranged on her plate.

“Yes, thank you.” Water sloshed
over the rim of her glass as she carried it to her lips with a shaky hand.

After the untouched portion of
Annabel’s rubbery cheesecake had been cleared away, Tess appeared at the podium
and began the award portion of the evening. Max checked the program and noted
that theirs would be the sixth and final public service category announced. In
a show of support, he took Annabel’s hand in his, although he didn’t know how
long he could stand it. Her grip cut off more of his circulation with each
announcement. At this rate, by the time their turn came, she’d be crushing
bones.

His pulse accelerated more when he
thought about Annabel’s name being announced as the winner than it did thinking
of his own. Some network hotshot had called him again that day to hint that
winning the award would put the job in the bag for him, but he might be able to
talk his way into the network position without it, if necessary. Annabel’s
chance to continue doing the work she loved was in real jeopardy.

Finally, Nick Clooney, George’s
dad, politician, former news anchor, and local celebrity, took the stage to
announce their category, Best Public Service/Media Award. As he read the list
of nominees, Annabel’s face brightened and her smile stretched. Max’s heart
convulsed with pride and anxiety for her, and he missed hearing his own name
when Nick read it.

Winning the award didn’t mean
nearly as much to him as he had thought. Not nearly as much as it would mean to
Annabel. At the last moment—and contrary to every ambitious and competitive
bone in his body—he almost hoped she would win instead of him.

“And the winner is—” Nick paused
for the usual fumbling of the envelope and dramatic pause before proclaiming, “
Art
for Art’s Sake
, Heartfelt Productions, Lynn
Dorey
,
producer.”

Damn.
Applause burst around
them, and Max joined in. No point in looking like a poor loser when the camera
panned his face for a reaction. He smiled and nodded like he’d known it all
along, but his gaze quickly turned to Annabel. Her taut expression revealed her
pain, even though she clapped and smiled politely.

“Lynn
Dorey
,”
he said to her with a dismissive shrug. She nodded, and then he repeated it to
their bosses as if they hadn’t heard. “Lynn
Dorey
.”

“Tough luck, kiddo.” Howard tipped
her a salute with his glass of scotch before knocking back a healthy slug.

“Better luck next time, dear.” His
wife adjusted the rows of diamond bracelets on her wrist.

“Yours was a damn fine piece,”
Charley said to Max. “These competitions are a crapshoot.”

“Oh, I wanted it to be one of you
two.”
Shawntel
pouted as she kissed Max on the cheek.
“You’re still the best in my book.”

The woman at the podium made her
acceptance speech, gracious, witty, generous in her praise of the other
nominees.
Blah, blah, blah
. She came and went, then Tess returned to the
spotlight.

And Annabel sat frozen beside him,
fragile enough to crack like ice under pressure. Amazing that he knew her well
enough now to know she donned the Ice Princess persona when she cared too much
to let her real feelings show.

Stroking his fingers along her arm
while she battled her emotions, he waited to grab an opportunity for them to
leave without making a scene. Willing to do almost anything to cheer her up, he
could only think of one thing.

He leaned over and whispered in her
ear, “Come on,
darlin
’. We’re outta here.”

The limo glided up to the curb on
command. At least some things happened as expected. Draping her sparkly shawl
around her shoulders, Annabel huddled in on herself. Max hustled her through
the drizzling rain and into the backseat of the car.

As the car made its way out of
downtown, she remained numb inside. He undid his tie and loosened the button on
his collar before perusing the bottles in the mini-bar. The level of concern he
angled her way in a series of side glances failed to penetrate her sense of
loss. He made a couple of encouraging remarks, but she didn’t have the heart to
respond.

She shouldn’t be so disappointed.
It wasn’t that important. What was one little local media award, more or less?
Max sure didn’t seem concerned about losing, or else he hid it better behind
his on-camera face than she did.

Lynn
Dorey
had produced a fine piece.

Life moved on.

No big deal.

Except that she wanted to win.

She had said that winning the award
would prove to Howard her ability to produce award-winning work. That winning
the award would compel him to allow her to work on projects worthy of her
talent. But that wasn’t it.

Either he would allow her to
produce or he wouldn’t. He should be aware of her talents by this time, award
or no award. She could stand up to him and demand her chance. She could go
elsewhere to do the work she wanted to do.

What she had really wanted… needed…
craved
, in fact, was the acknowledgment that she was the very best at
what she did. Better than the infamous Max Williams. Better than the
accomplished Lynn
Dorey
. Better than everyone.

Not a very magnanimous reason for
wanting to win a public service award, shame forced her to admit, but the
admission needed to be faced.

Failure pressed in on her, making
her feel weak and diminished. Alone and cold. Very, very cold, like the Ice
Princess Max always called her.

She dabbed tears from the corners
of her eyes. Max took her hand and closed her fingers around a glass of
champagne. She put the glass in a holder and warmed a bit only when Max
reclaimed her hand, cradling it in his.

“You’re supposed to drink that. I
was going to propose a toast. Something clever about being too classy to be
losers.”

“Not now, please.” Her stiff lips
refused to smile any longer. She shivered, watching the rain sheet the window.

“You’re freezing.” He scooted
closer and slid an arm around her shoulders. “We need brandy, or scotch, not
champagne.” He stretched his other arm toward the mini-bar again.

“No, I just want to go home.” She
cuddled closer to his warmth.

“Do you have brandy at your house?”
His breath washed across her cheek. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Did she have brandy? Probably not.
She shook her head. Max tapped on the glass and gave the driver an address.

“Where are we going?” Her teeth
chattered around the question.

“My place.” He wrapped his other
arm around her and gathered her to him. His hands slid under her shawl, moving
over her arms, back, neck, and shoulders, soothing and healing.

If she weren’t so cold, so frozen,
she’d move away. But for now, she needed all the heat he could give her. “No,
just take me home.”

His fixed gaze drilled into her
with the precision of a laser. It penetrated the cold sense of failure down to
her very bones, to the place that terrified her.

 “Fine.” He tapped on the
glass to issue new directions.

Through the rain-streaked windows,
she saw the lights ablaze inside her house, offering a false sense of welcome.
Carly was out for the night, but the girl never remembered to turn off the
lights when she left. Annabel dreaded going inside and huddling alone with her
disappointment.

A pair of warm pajamas and a cup of
cappuccino might comfort her. Or a less-sophisticated pleasure, like hot cocoa.
Double chocolate with extra marshmallows. She could thaw out her frozen brain,
indulge in a brief pity party, and maybe allow herself a few tears as she went
to sleep. Then she’d get up and face the morning with a new perspective. She’d
think about the future then.

Max bundled her through the rain
and onto the covered porch. He lowered the umbrella provided by Eduardo and
took the keys from her hand when she fumbled with the lock.

“You sure you’re all right?” Max
asked. “I hate to leave you here alone.” He turned Annabel toward him and
tilted her face toward the light.

“I’m fine.” The lie almost stuck in
her throat. If she weren’t fine now, she would be by tomorrow. She’d had plenty
of practice getting through life’s kicks in the teeth on her own.

He shook his head, disbelieving.
His dark eyes locked with hers, rimmed with sympathy and kindness, but also
questioning and persuasive. She shivered again.

With his warm hands on her bare
shoulders, steam skittered across her skin. He pulled her forward inch by slow
inch. His head slanted to one side, and then his lips covered hers. Warmth,
glorious warmth shot through her everywhere their bodies met, blocking out the
chill of her defeat.

Forget hot chocolate. Marshmallows
be damned. Max made her forget her loss better than an entire vat of Swiss
Miss. The thought of him leaving made her ache with longing. She wrapped
herself around him and pressed into him, desperate for comfort.

When she parted her lips and his
tongue swept inside, he gave a hungry growl, spreading his incredible warmth
inside her. One kiss led to another. Places she’d forgotten about began to
tingle.

His mouth grazed her neck in a
tantalizing trail. Hot breath caressed her flesh. Hands skimmed her breasts.
The starched pleats on his shirt brushed her taut nipples. Her shivers no
longer emanated from the numbing cold, but from the heat of longing.

The flash of lights from a car
passing her house jerked her back to reality. She shifted her mouth away from
his with a gasp. As much as she wanted him and craved the oblivion he offered,
she couldn’t do this.

Not on her front doorstep.

“Let’s go in,” he suggested,
reading her mind.

Her moment’s hesitation provided him
with the opportunity to back her through the doorway into the foyer. He closed
the door behind him.

“We shouldn’t do this.” She planted
her hands on the solid wall of his chest, gesturing in the general direction of
her driveway and the waiting limo. “We
can’t
do this. What will Eduardo
think?”

“Eduardo will be thrilled.” He
rubbed his palms along her bare back, then pulled her close. “He gets paid by
the hour.”

Annabel’s curiosity spiked along
with her desire as his fingers searched for the fastening on her dress. “How
long will it take?”

He gave her a pure-Max smile. One
that sent her sexual appetite zinging off the
gotta
-have-it
scale. “How long have you got?”

“I’ve got all night.” She startled
herself, first, with the thought, and then, with the realization.
They were
going to do this. Sex with Max was going to happen.
No more stalling. No
more excuses. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Let’s make Eduardo
rich.”

“All night, huh?”
Max smiled widely. “You got it, babe.” The heat in his eyes guaranteed the
promise as he removed her sparkly wrap and tossed it aside. His hands skimmed
her bare back, moved down her sides, then to the front of the diaphanous
material. “It might take all night to figure out how to get you out of this
thing.”

“Let me help.” Annabel guided him
to the zipper on the side of the dress. She reached up to undo the magic hook
that held the two straps together at the nape of her neck.

Before the material fell away and
revealed her bare breasts, Max covered her hands with his, stopping her. “If
you’re not into exhibitionism, the foyer’s better than the front porch, but do
you really want to do this here?” He pressed his hips against hers, indicating
the hard ridge of his erection. “I’m game, but you might want some place more
comfortable.”

A bit of her chill returned with
his practical suggestion, but his fingers massaged small circles along her back
and ignited heated tingling along her spine that melted hesitation away. She’d
love to be the kind of sensual woman who enjoyed having sex any time, any
place, but she’d never been that woman before. For this first time in such a
long time, she’d probably enjoy it more somewhere else.

Someplace where the vast difference
in their levels of experience would be less apparent.

Somewhere safe.

Definitely somewhere dark.

“Upstairs?” she suggested.

At his quick nod, she leaned in for
a taste of his beautifully decadent mouth. Definitely better than hot
chocolate. Or a hot fudge sundae. Or a freaking mountain of chocolate. One nip
led to two. She deepened the kiss with a stroke of her tongue. His lips parted
to welcome her inside.

Her hips arched against him,
pressing into his rock-hard cock. His hands slipped inside her dress, cupped
her breasts, and held their weight in his palms. She let out a long breath that
had lodged itself somewhere around her ribcage. When his thumbs brushed across
her nipples, she moaned. So did he.

An encouraging flutter frisked
around inside her stomach at the intensity of his response. Knowing she had the
ability to arouse him so quickly and forcefully ignited her confidence.

“We have
got
to get you out
of this dress.” His voice was ragged with frustration.

“Upstairs.” She intended to be
cloaked in shadow before shedding her clothing.

Holding onto her hips, he backed
her toward the steps. She reached up to brush her fingers through the soft,
thick hair at his temple. He stopped short, and she stumbled. When he opened
his mouth to speak, she kissed him instead.

What was it about his mouth that
she found so irresistible? The firm, wide shape? The full lips or beautiful
teeth? Had she ever been so fascinated with any other mouth? God, she didn’t
think so.

His hands slipped inside the front
of her dress again, caressing her breasts. He flashed his sexiest, most
photogenic smile. “Thank God, I was right.”

“About what? That I’m not very…
very…”

“Very what?”

“You know. Not very big.” She
dropped her forehead to his chest so she didn’t have to look at him.
“Voluptuous.”

“You’re plenty big. If you weren’t,
why would I have been wondering all through dinner what you did or didn’t have
on under here? That was the only thing that kept me awake through some of those
speeches.”

A bubble of laughter escaped her,
delighted by the idea of holding his attention smack dab in the middle of some
of Cincinnati’s most beautiful women.

“Let me see you,” he said, his
voice low and coaxing.

The laughter stuck in her throat as
he returned her hands to the hooks that held the halter in place. The shimmery
material dropped away. His breath caught as he admired her naked flesh.

“Let me see
you
.” The daring
words shocked her, but she was determined not to be the only nearly-naked
person in her foyer.

She removed his dangling necktie
and started on his shirt studs. Every part of him she uncovered exceeded her
sexual fantasies. Solid muscles, lean and taut. Crisp chest hair. Just as she
got to the hardest, flattest stomach she’d ever fantasized about touching, his
vest interrupted her journey.

Sliding her arms around him, she
unhooked it in the back. The maneuver brought her breasts firmly against the
inflexible wall of his naked chest.

She rubbed against him like a cat,
savoring the contrasting textures of his pleated shirt and crinkly hair on her
hyper-sensitive skin. Dipping her head, she took a deep whiff of his
scent—spicy cologne, starched cotton, and fresh, clean male. He looked and
smelled so delicious she wanted to take a bite out of him. Her mouth settled
for a nibble at the appealing bend between his shoulder and neck.

“Come on, babe.” He led her another
few steps toward the stairs, but the yards of material swirled around their
feet, tangled around them, and got in the way of walking and touching.

Frustrated, Annabel thrust the
dress below her hips. She smiled as it slithered to the floor. Boldly, she
stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

Then she froze behind years of
wallflower insecurity.

Only his hands on hers prevented
her from covering the exposed areas. His gaze moved up and down her body once,
visually caressing every inch, then he made the trip a second time, his face a
study in amazement.

“What?” A prolonged moment of
silence hung in the air while Annabel considered the nearest place to hide.

“You’re beautiful. Perfect.” His
hand trailed appreciatively along her side, from her breast to her hip. He
groaned again and shook his head. “To think this is what you’ve been hiding,
and I didn’t know.” He bent to let his mouth follow the path his hand had
taken. “I’m usually a better judge than that.”

Clad only in a wisp of panties,
sheer stockings and the sexiest little shoes she’d ever worn, Annabel felt a
blush migrate from her forehead to her toes. She opened her mouth to refute the
compliment, but he tapped a finger against her lips.

“Everything about you is beautiful.
Don’t argue. Just say thank you.”

Reading the admiration in his eyes,
she wanted to let herself believe him. “
Th
-thank
you.”

“Promise you’ll never disguise
yourself in nun’s clothes again.” His lips grazed hers. “Promise me that.”

She shoved his jacket and shirt
aside. Her hands drifted over the sculpted planes, from abs and
pecs
to biceps, shoulders and back. With so much to
explore, her fingers shook as she unfastened his pants.

“Promise me.” His whispered breath
rasped across her skin, setting off a barrage of goose bumps.

“I promise.” With every delicious
detail of his magnificent body revealed in front of her, ready, willing and
eager for her explorations, she couldn’t remember what promise he demanded from
her. She would have assured him of anything in that moment when she touched his
upright cock for the first time. Big, thick, hard. Way beyond her expectations.

Gathering her close, he sighed with
relief as if her response made a difference to him. “I’m going to touch you and
taste you all over. Starting now.”

“I want that, too. To touch you,
taste you.” Did she dare do any of that? Would he want her to? Barely able to
speak any longer, she gestured vaguely up the stairs. “Bedroom.’

Shaking his head, he pulled her
down with him. “Next time.”

As they moved in perfect
syncopation through the same erotic dance, he aroused her to dizzying hunger,
teasing her sexual appetite with rare and exotic treats. Lost in the pooling
warmth of desire, she tried to keep up, to participate and reciprocate, but he
was way out of her league. Sometimes, she was so overwhelmed with sensations,
it was all she could do to remember to breathe. She couldn’t get enough of him,
certainly not in an hour.

Or even a night.

Not when he licked his way down her
body. Not when he slipped his fingers through her slick folds. Not when he
lifted and seated her across his hips, sliding deep inside her, stretching,
filling, and bringing her home. Sweet, never-before-known sensations swamped
her as he thrust into her, over and over, surrounding her with the feel, taste,
and smell of him.

Max
! With crystal-sharp
clarity, she looked deep into his eyes and matched him move for move.

She rode the unbelievable
sensations higher and higher, unable to stop, almost unable to breathe. As she hovered
on the brink of exquisite, almost unbearable pleasure, he leaned back and put a
hand to her chin, fixing her gaze with a question in his.

“Yes, please. Now.” Her eyelids
fluttered. “You come, too.”

His final thrust took her over the
edge. He followed her with a triumphant shout that made her smile.

After a few minutes, she stretched
out full-length against him, fully aware of the nakedness of his body beneath
hers. Resting against him should have been about as comfortable as snuggling a
slab of marble, but somehow, it suited her.

Slowly, she came to realize the
awkwardness of her position, not just emotionally or socially awkward, but
physically awkward as well. She raised her head to determine the problem. She
seemed to be… diagonal.

They’d made it as far as the
stairs. She eased herself away, perching on the step beside him. “Oh, God. You
are awesome good.”

Max lay stretched with his feet
grazing the floor and his shoulders about six steps up. He turned his head
toward her and gave a cocky grin at the words she hadn’t intended to say out
loud.

Suddenly, the realization of what
they’d done, where they’d done it, and all his gorgeous nudity was too much to
consider in one gulp. She wanted to sprint upstairs to hide, but imagined the
view that would provide. Instead, she slid into a boneless puddle onto the
foyer’s hard ceramic tile floor.

Nonchalantly—as if she entertained
naked men in her foyer every day—she gathered her hair on top of her head, but
she couldn’t decide where to fix her eyes. His ankles got most of her
attention. They were nice ankles. Sturdy. Neutral.

She felt his gaze on her, glanced
up as far as his knees, chickened out and looked away. “If it’s not too
indelicate to mention such a thing, I’m sweating.” The air had turned into a
sauna around them.

She winced.
Charming.
Probably the most charming thing anyone had ever said to him during afterglow.

“At least you’re not cold anymore.”
Beside her, he sat up and planted his elbows on his knees. He stroked his palm
over her hair and sifted a few of the curly strands through his fingers,
sensual and comforting.

She was transfixed by the tattoo
the movement revealed. A lightning bolt ran along his left side from beneath
his armpit to his hip.
Dear Lord
. How had she missed that before? She
reached out, wanting to touch it, but pulled her hand back.

“You’re embarrassed,” he said, “and
you shouldn’t be.”

She ducked her head again, even
more chagrined to know he read her so easily. “Aren’t you?”

“A little.” He reached out and
tilted her chin up. When she gathered the courage to look at him, he rewarded
her with an intimate smile—equally sexy and endearing, damn him. “That wasn’t
my best effort.”

“What?”

“I can do a lot better.”

She found his comment a little
intriguing and a little hurtful.
How
much better could he be? And what
about
her
was so lacking that it caused him to perform at less than his
best? “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I hate to admit it,
but I got distracted.”

“By what?” She was ready to toss
him out on his bare, and oh, so fabulous butt if his mind had been on some
mundane and unrelated topic instead of his performance.

“By you.” He reached for her.

If a heart could melt, hers did.

He was the most surprising man
she’d ever known—not that she’d known that many. Every day of the past week,
she’d learned something new about him. And today, he’d taught her something new
about herself. She was as susceptible to Max Williams’ charms as every other
woman in the free world.

She didn’t want to think about it.

She didn’t want to think about
anything
.

Tomorrow, she’d deal with the
fallout. Tonight, she’d take what she could get.

“By me?” She settled deliciously
into his lap.

“By your sexy body, your
sensuality, your sweetness, and your surprising assertiveness. Dynamite
combination. Everything about you was so much more than I expected. You
astounded me.” He nuzzled her neck and licked her ear, catapulting her senses
into another round of sexual frolicking. “Want me to make it up to you?”

“I might be willing to give you a
second chance.” She did her best to sound reluctant, when she was already
plotting the things she wanted to do to him. “But this time we really should go
upstairs.”

“You’re on.” He laughed, gathered
her close, grabbed his pants from the stair rail, and then surged to his feet.
“The stairs
might
have been another thing that distracted me.”