Revved To The Maxx

“We’ll check it tomorrow,” he said, looking up and freezing.

Our eyes locked in a heated, silent exchange. His hands tightened on mine, gripping them with an intensity that was thrilling. His pupils dilated, his breathing picking up to match mine. Memories of the night we shared came alive, swirling around us. I licked my lips, and his gaze flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes.

We drifted closer, like magnets unable to stop the pull. His mouth was almost touching mine, and I whispered his name.

“Maxx.”

He released my hands and stood so fast, I almost toppled over. He stepped back, his eyes wild.

“I have to go and do some errands. Try to be more careful in the garage, Charly.”

Then he turned and almost ran, as if the hounds of hell were pursuing him.

I drew in a shuddering breath, hearing the sound of the garage door closing and his truck starting.

I dropped my head into my hands, wincing at the pain.

What just happened?Chapter 10MAXXI pulled out of the driveway so fast, my tires kicked up a cloud of dust and pebbles, shooting them all over the road.

I didn’t care. I had to get out. Get away from her.

A short distance away, I steered to the side of the road and hung my head.

Twice.

That was twice in one day I couldn’t stop my reaction to her.

When I walked in the office this morning, the sight of her sitting at my desk, her legs folded under her as she worked, caught me off guard. I thought I was prepared to see her. I wasn’t.

Her hair was piled high with tendrils escaping in little corkscrew curls around her face. Her shirt hung off her shoulder, exposing the creamy flesh I remembered kissing. Tasting. And the kicker? The sexy, come-fuck-me librarian glasses perched on her nose. My cock hardened instantly.

I wanted to drag her off the chair, pull those glasses off her face, and take her. Right there on the desk. I had to turn around and leave before I did. Give myself a chance to collect my thoughts and brace myself to go back and pretend nothing was amiss. Treat her the way I had the day before—with barely concealed annoyance.

Except, I was finding it hard to do so for some reason. She had been working hard, for how long, I wasn’t sure. But she was obviously determined to make the best of the job I hired her for. I hassled her a little, but this morning, my barbs were off and my comebacks weak.

Then when she fell, the sense of needing to look after her shocked me. Cleaning her hand, being that close to her was a mistake. The heat between us was undeniable. The urge to kiss her, yank her to my chest, and lose myself to her was intense. To carry her over to the little bed in the back and spend the rest of the day inside her, palpable and strong.

I had to physically remove myself. I hadn’t even put a shirt on. I grabbed a spare one from the back seat and yanked it over my head, then banged my hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

How the hell was this going to work?

I hung my head again in resignation. I was being a fool. It wasn’t going to work. One of us was going to break, and when we did, the entire fragile bomb we were dancing around was going to explode.

Somehow, something told me it would make the last explosion that rocked my world look like nothing.

A truck came up behind me, stopping. The passenger side window rolled down, and Mary tilted her head, studying me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I sighed. There was no point lying. She’d figure it out. “Hiding.”

“From?”

“My new assistant.”

I had sent Mary a message, telling her I had hired someone. She’d been away, so it was the first time I had seen her since she convinced me to place the ad. She had given me an earful about the contents of my ad, much the same way Red had, and was shocked anyone had replied.

“The kid just got here. More trouble than he’s worth already?” She chuckled. “Give him a chance.”

I met her gaze. “He’s not a kid, and he’s not a he.”

Her eyebrows rose. “This I gotta hear. Follow me home, Maxx.” Her tone left no room for argument.

I sighed and put the truck in gear.Mary puttered around her homey kitchen, making coffee, relaxed and at ease. I sat stewing—and fidgeting.

“Should I put a splash of brandy in that coffee? Calm you down some?”

“I’m fine,” I growled.

“Brandy, it is.”

A mug thumped down in front of me. Mary sat down across the table. “Now, spill.”

“The kid isn’t really a kid.”

“How old is, ah, your new assistant?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five isn’t usually considered a child, Maxx,” she stated mildly.