DirtyInterludes (18 page)

Her hand danced over the bar, the bow sliding over the
strings. Back and forth. Back and forth. She moved her fingers along the base,
rocking it with quick efficiency that reminded him too much of a woman
massaging her clit. God damn. He wiped a hand over his mouth, his cock bobbing
in anticipation. Bridget’s mouth dropped open as though she was in the throes
of a climax. A flush touched her cheeks. The cello rubbed against her exposed
flesh. He wanted to climb out of the bed and take her in his arms, but he
sensed she wanted to show him this. Damn, classical musicians were sexy as
hell.

Notes climbed higher and higher, then dropped a beat to
hover sensually there. Fingers flew over the neck of the cello, the thrusting
of the bow seeming frenetic but pushing out erotic sounds that teased his
imagination and tortured his libido.

Finally the cadence sped up to a crescendo of sensuality,
mimicking the orgasm. It finally dropped away until the room echoed with sexual
tension. Bridget opened her eyes, panting as if she’d run a mile. Max was in
awe of her.

“Wow. What was that?”

Bridget licked her lips. “My own composition.”

Something like pride filled his chest. “That was amazing.
Sexy and amazing.”

“That’s what I wanted it to be.”

She put the cello aside and Max tensed as a wave of desire
crashed over him. Gloriously naked, she approached the bed. Her knee dug into
the mattress as Max cupped her waist, bringing her into his body.

“Oh it was sexy all right,” he rasped.

Bridget tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You were my
inspiration.”

A brow notched up. “Was I?”

Her lower lip tucked between her teeth and she nodded
somewhat shyly. Max’s fingers tightened and he dragged her across his lap until
she settled over his linen-covered dick. Her gasp chased the air, eyelids
drooping.

“Well, you’re my inspiration for this.” He rocked into her,
the desire for her warming him.

Tight with need from playing her cello, Bridget pressed her
hands against Max’s warm shoulders. Her pussy settled over his shaft and she
whimpered at the flimsy sheet separating them. Max grinned, slowly sliding her
over his shaft. Her clit hummed and her womb tightened. The devilish gleam in
his eyes made her breasts feel heavy and she rolled her hips. Max arched, his
moan coalescing with hers. He cupped her breasts and plucked her nipple.
Titillation and need spiraled along her chest down to her pussy. Fingers dug
into his shoulder while his hand caressed her waist. Rolling forward, her hair
created a shroud as she leaned over him, her mouth only an inch from his. The fabric
was moist from her juices, plastering itself to every curve of his dick.
Bridget whimpered, feeling the contours of his dick against her sensitive
flesh.

Passion seared her and she trembled with desperate need. Max
cupped the back of her neck, his features tight with lust. His thumb pressed
behind her ear, caressing a sweet spot that sent tingles down her spine. Hot
breath skittered over her lips a moment before he kissed her. He intoxicated
her with every sweep of his tongue, the slow circles of his thumb behind her
ear scintillating and erotic.

Suddenly she found herself on her back, his lower body
pressed against her as he lunged forward in ruthless abandon. Her knee hitched
up and he grasped it, holding her still. Bridget whimpered as a wave of pleasure
trembled beneath the surface. She flung her hands back and pressed against the
headboard, desperate to find leverage.

“Come in me,” she whispered.

Max pushed back, jerked the sheet from between them. His
erection bobbed and he planted his hand by her shoulder. She clasped his shaft
and pumped, exploring every curve. She wanted this. Him deep inside as she
experienced his mastery of her senses. With a tug, she brought him toward the
mouth of her womb. Max paused, his features stiff as though something pressed
between his shoulder blades. Bridget writhed restlessly.

“What is it?”

“Condom.”

Bridget knew he was right. They couldn’t risk it in a moment
of passion. He reached for her bedside table and found a packet. Rolling it on,
he spread her wide, dipping two fingers into her sopping, aching canal. He
circled her clit, his fingers shoved deep as he plied a hidden place inside.
Sparks of ecstasy shuddered through her and she bit back a cry as little
fireworks went off in her.

A curse pierced her haze, and she felt the broad head of his
penis slide into her. Bridget’s back arched as he settled into the cusp of her
hips. His palms pressed above her shoulders and he reared back. Knees clamped
over his waist, she met him thrust for thrust, absorbing every electrical burst
of erotic sensations. She rocketed toward release. The wet sound of sex filled
the air, cut only by her moans of delight. Max barely made a sound and she
opened her eyes to find him staring at her with an intensity that tugged at her
heart. Their gazes caught and held and he slowed, gentling the thrusts,
bringing her down from the precipice. He dropped to his forearms and her
breasts rubbed against his skin. Pleasure sluiced down her torso and collected
in her womb.

Max pulled out until only his head remained inside before he
eased back into her. Bridget clenched her hands over his ass, silently
commanding him to take her to release. He ignored her, continuing his steady
and torturous thrusts. Sweat coated her skin, and the musk scent of sex curled
around her. Max watched her with an almost heightened sense of awareness. As
though he wanted to memorize what he was doing to do her. It should’ve scared
her, but it didn’t. It made her need sharper. Made her feel gloriously sexy.

Every nerve lit up. Her skin flushed with need. She couldn’t
take much more and she shuddered. “Oh Max. Max, please.”

Lips curled back over teeth and he hooked her leg over his
shoulder. He pounded into her with so much driving force it pushed the breath
from her. They slid along the bed, and she pressed her palms against the
headboard. He gripped the top of the bed and used it to power every thrust.
White-hot pleasure seared her and exploded deep inside. She tensed and she
screamed his name as waves and waves of euphoria crashed over her.

She was barely aware of him pulling from her until he
grasped her hips and rolled her over. Knees barely held her up and she pressed
her forehead against her forearms as he parted her ass cheeks. Cool air touched
her exposed skin. Max fingered her swollen and sensitive pussy and she jerked
at the sharp sting of decadence. Pressing her lips together, she held back
another moan as he pressed into her tight vagina. He pushed and pushed until he
was embedded so deep his balls kissed her clit.

Bridget groaned with need. Hands on her hips guided her as
Max fucked her. He pushed her body until she shattered again, her cry a ragged
sound of delight. Lights burst behind her eyelids, muscles quivering with every
glorious orgasm. Flesh slapped together and she begged him to stop, to keep
going, to come with her. She was mindless with desire.

Max’s hand pressed into the mattress and his hot breath slid
along her shoulder. She accepted his kiss. A kiss filled with desperation and
passion. He stabbed his tongue in time with every plunge of his cock. He fisted
her hair, holding her still, and she gasped at the sting that merged with the
pleasure he gave her.

Bridget whimpered, tears of joy breaking free as yet another
orgasm rocked through her. Her womb clenched and she quivered. Behind her,
Max’s thrusts became frenetic, his fingers tightening over her hips until he
pushed deep and held still. His cock bobbed and the hot gush off his orgasm was
felt through the contraception.

Bridget dropped forward in a boneless heap, her lids
drooping as Max settled down beside her. She smiled sleepily at him as he
shifted toward her.

He brushed aside a lock of hair and kissed her shoulder.
“You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

He stared deeply into her eyes, a wealth of emotion there.
“But do you believe it?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Sure.”

“Baby, you
are
amazing and talented and deserving of
great things.”

Tender emotions warmed her at his words. “Sometimes it’s
hard to believe, you know?”

“Why? You have first chair and that’s something pretty big
from what I gather.”

Bridget grinned. Not long ago Max hadn’t known the first
thing about the importance of being a classical musician. “I guess it’s hard to
break. My mom never thought too much about my career. I worked two jobs when starting
out. Stayed up hours on end practicing. Working on the weekends in a stringed
quartet. It’s not as glamorous as she thought.”

“But if she heard your original stuff…”

He trailed off at the shake of her head. “She never
approved. She wants me back in Boston to find a ‘real job’. Some days I think,
why do I bother? It wasn’t until I got first seat that I thought I’d make her
see. But she hasn’t.”

He glowered. “Forget what she says. Blaze your own trail.
Living up to other people’s expectations is just going to make you unhappy.
Music makes you happy so you should stick with it.”

Indecision weighed on her. She’d always wanted to have her
mother’s approval and maybe she played it too safe. “You think?”

“Yeah. If that composition is anything to go by, you should
have the front of the stage, soaking up the limelight.”

“You’ll be there?”

He grinned. “I’ll be there and cheering the loudest.”

She looked at him with mock censure. “People don’t cheer
during performances. It’s not a rock band. It’s classical music.”

“Still. I’ll be your biggest fan.”

She snuggled closer into him, loving the confidence he had
in her. His warmth surrounded her and he placed a kiss by her ear. “You’re
amazing,” he said again.

This time she smiled, basking in his words. Maybe he was right
and it was time to blaze her own trail.

Chapter Fourteen

Bridget woke sometime later. The sun had risen higher as
most of the morning passed them by. A warm arm wrapped around her waist pinned
her to Max’s side and she skimmed her hand along his muscular forearm, enjoying
the sensation of being held as though she were precious. His breath skittered
along the shell of her ear, disturbing locks of hair. Briefly she contemplated
rolling over and seducing him, but the rumble in her stomach reminded her they
hadn’t eaten yet. Shuffling to the edge of the bed, she eased Max’s arm from
her. He grunted a sound of protest and she rolled toward him, caught by his
drowsy stare.

“I’m going to make us breakfast,” she whispered.

His lids dropped and eased open again as the vestiges of
sleep clung to him. “Stay.”

“I’ll be back. Go to sleep.”

He fell back into a slumber and she grinned, her lungs
filling with joy. Pulling on a light shift, she trudged down the stairs,
holding back a yawn. Muscles twinged and her pussy felt raw from a night of
lovemaking. She made her way into the kitchen and pulled out some eggs and
bacon. It felt unusual to make breakfast for another, but Bridget embraced the
next step of their relationship. For the last couple of weeks, they’d spent time
together and she’d learned Max was not only a bit of a prankster but had a
caring streak. He talked of his and Bryce’s friendship and hinted at Christmas.
It was only two months away but she suspected he wanted to take her with him to
his family Christmas. The idea should’ve worried her since they’d only been
dating for such a short while, but the time spent as his neighbor prior helped
blur the lines between a new romance and a progressive step in their odd
friendship turned relationship.

Scrambling the eggs, she glanced up when someone knocked on
her door. Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she walked to the front and opened
the door. A courier van drove away and she frowned at it before her attention
fell on a package on her stoop. It was about the size of a shoebox made to
house boots. Picking it up, she marveled at the weight, wondering what it could
be. Her attention moved to the stairs and she smiled. It wouldn’t surprise her
if Max had bought her more gnomes. He seemed quite genuine in his interest in
her love of the little statuettes. Sliding it along the counter, she settled
onto a stool and used a knife to open the lid. It came open and she was
immediately hit with a heavy, meaty stench. Her heart froze in a hollow chest.
Ice filled her lungs and she screamed, stumbling from the stool, her gaze
fixated on the dead cat.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs and she rushed toward Max.
He wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face into his chest. Beneath
her ear she could hear a pounding heart, but she didn’t know if it was hers or
his.

“It’s a cat,” she said, hearing the unsteady pitch to her
voice. “It’s a dead cat. Oh my God.”

Max’s arms tightened, tension rolling off him. “Son of a
bitch. Who sent it to you?”

Bridget hiccupped and wiped at her tears with the back of
her hand. “I don’t know. A courier guy dropped it off. If this is a joke it’s
not funny.”

Max’s lips tightened. “You think I’d send that?”

“No,” she mumbled. “I’m just shocked. Who does this?”

Max stepped around her and approached the counter. His
features turned grim as he stared down at the parcel. He pressed his hands
against the counter, his nostrils flaring as fury chased over his face. “Fuck.”

He reached in and Bridget rushed forward. “Don’t touch it.
The police might need it for prints.”

“There won’t be prints on this,” he said with quiet
certainty.

“How do you know?”

“Trust me. A person doesn’t send a dead animal without
making sure they know what they’re doing.”

Max pulled out a note. The stain of blood on the edge made
her stomach turn. She didn’t feel hungry anymore. Max’s lips turned down as he
read the note. Whatever was on it upset him further.

Bridget hovered beyond the counter, unwilling to look at the
dead creature or inhale the decay. “What does it say?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. It was sent
to me
.”

“It’s just a warning. She wants you to watch your back.”

“She? How do you know it’s a she?”

Max shook his head once. Hard. “I’m just guessing.”

Bridget’s mind immediately turned to Gillian. She didn’t
think Gillian would stoop to such a sickening act. Max shifted, turning her
attention outward. “I’m gonna get rid of this.”

“But I need to call the police.”

Max exhaled and jerked away from the evidence. “God
damn
it
.”

She stiffened at his emotive reaction. Goose bumps rose on
her flesh and she rubbed at it, hating the unsettled feeling the parcel had
caused her. Gillian wanted to upset her, to throw her off her game, and she
wasn’t about to let that snake succeed. Pulling her emotions under control, she
expelled air in an effort to calm herself and cataloged what she needed to do.

Fury rolled through Max’s gut at the calling card. He
thought he’d lost her. That she wouldn’t know where to find him. He was wrong.

“I’m going to call the police.”

Max barely heard Bridget, his ears roaring with disbelief
and anger. The police wouldn’t be able to do anything. Stalkers terrorized and
caused mental scars and yet wouldn’t suffer for their crimes. A restraining
order and a few months jail time was all she’d get. He wiped a hand down his
face, hiding his despair. Bridget. Damn it to hell. She sent it to Bridget,
which meant she’d been watching him. Unease marched skeletal fingers up his
spine and raised the hair on the back of his neck.

In the distance he could hear Bridget making the call. The
police wouldn’t be able to protect her from that freak. He’d learned the hard
way she’d do anything to get to him, even upset his family. He’d bought his
parents a new house with beefed-up security just to keep her from them. The
bitch was a wily sort, finding her way into his mother’s confidences and
scaring the shit out of her.

His fists clenched so tight his blunted nails dug into his
palm. How could he say to Bridget that it was his stalker who’d threatened her?
That it was his fault for getting involved with her that brought this down on
her head?

Bridget entered the kitchen again. “The police should be
here soon.”

Her attention flickered to the package and a green tinge
marked her skin. Max led her away from the kitchen and up the stairs. He had to
keep her from even looking at the thing. It was clear it upset her and it hurt
him to know he was somewhat responsible for it. Settling her on the bed, he
knelt on the floor to look into her eyes.

“Don’t worry about that stuff. It’ll be okay. Let me talk to
the police and if they need to talk to you I’ll let you know. Just stay up here
for a bit.”

Relief filled her gaze and she nodded. Max placed a kiss on
her lips and stood. After pulling on his clothes, he started toward the door.
He hesitated at the threshold, emotion he couldn’t define fluttered through his
head, determined to find voice. All he could come up with was, “It’ll be all
right.”

He trudged down the stairs and waited for the police. He
didn’t have long to wait, the knock on the door sturdy, marking the presence of
authority. He opened the door and went through a routine he was well familiar
with. They asked him questions about the package and he left out the details of
Bridget finding it.

“Do you know anyone who would send this?” asked the officer.

The question he waited for. “Yes. I had a stalker a few
years ago, and this was her calling card.”

“Is there a restraining order in place?”

“I think so. I mean, it was years ago and she left me alone
for a while.”

“What has brought this up again?”

Max glanced at the stairs. “I’m dating someone at the
moment.”

The officer indicated to the parcel with his pen. “So this
was meant for your girlfriend.”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Was she the one that found it?”

“Yes.”

“I need to talk to her.”

Apprehension burned in his gut. “She’s pretty frazzled and I
don’t want her to know about my stalker. My relationship is kinda new and I
don’t want some crazy bitch scaring her off.”

The officer raised a brow. “You’re going to have to say
something. I’d suggest to her that she carry pepper spray until we resolve
this. You might want to check the status of your restraining order.”

Max nodded, then went to fetch Bridget. She remained on the
bed, hands clasped together over her knees. “Are they gone?”

“They need to ask you some questions.”

She sucked in air through stiff lips. “All right.”

Max pressed his hand against the doorframe, concern
furrowing his brow. “You okay?”

Her nod was jerky. “Yes.”

He took her hand and led her downstairs. The officer went
through the questions, which she answered with a slight waver in her voice. Max
tightened his hand over hers in reassurance.

“Do you know who’d do this?” the officer asked.

“Yes.”

Max’s breath stuttered and the officer passed him a telling
glance before he addressed Bridget. “Who?”

“Gillian Roachdale. She and I are kind of having issues over
my first seat. We’re musicians and she didn’t get principal. I think she’s
jealous. She slashed my tires.”

Brows shot up. “Did you make a police report?”

“No. I didn’t think I’d need to. I confronted her about it
and she denied it, but I thought it’d be enough.”

“Do you have a witness to the tires being slashed?”

“I didn’t see her do it, but Max can verify they were
slashed.”

The officer shot a look at Max. He knew as well as Max this
was getting out of hand. “You both need to make a report. Can you come down to
the station?”

“Yes. Today?”

“That’d be best.” The officer shut his notebook and looked
at Max pointedly. “While you’re there you might want to check out a few
things.”

Max nodded, knowing he needed to check up on his restraining
order. As the police officers left, he turned to Bridget. She appeared fragile,
her focus kept determinedly from the kitchen. “Why don’t you go up and get
ready? I’ll drive you there.”

She nodded and wandered back upstairs, leaving him to find
his bearings. Moments passed and she came down dressed in a simple shirt and
jeans. The drive to the police station was tense and Max had to catch himself
from revealing his dark secret. Jesus, he thought she’d leave him alone. It’d
been years. He regretted ever dipping his dick in that particular pussy. He’d
given her a moment of pleasure and she’d given him nothing but hell. In order
to regain his peace of mind he had to bring the force of the law on her head. He
thought it was enough to scare her, but a woman who killed helpless animals to
make a point clearly didn’t scare easy.

Unease iced over his skin and churned in his gut. He
couldn’t imagine what that psycho would do to Bridget and it terrified him. He
reached for Bridget, finding assurance in her touch. It’d all be okay. She
broke the restraining order and it was enough to send her to jail.

He was relieved of that notion ten minutes later. While
Bridget gave her statement to the police, he’d veered off to the front to find
out the status of his restraining order, only to find it invalid. He stared in
disbelief at the police officer. “It what?”

“Lapsed,” she said with a steady stare.

Max tried to make sense of what’d been said. “This woman
made my life a living hell for a good year and the order was only temporary?
How can that be?”

“Most restraining orders are only valid for two years unless
authorized by the judge. You can make another.”

Max clenched a fist over the desk, his body tense with
repressed rage. “How long would that take?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

“A few weeks perhaps. You’ll have to see a judge—”

“I know what I have to do, damn it. This woman has a history
of doing these things. She waited until her order lapsed before seeking me out.
Doesn’t that sound crazy to you? She’s not the standard run-of-the-mill
stalker.”

“They all aren’t, sir,” the woman deadpanned.

“Fine.”

He stormed away from the lady, ready to do some damage
caused by the futility of his situation. Throwing himself into the chair, he
waited for Bridget to emerge. Fifteen minutes later she came from the back and
Max stood, anxiety building in his chest. He approached, seeking the comfort
she provided as he wrapped his arms around her. She was safe, for now, and he
would find a way to reinstate the order to protect her.

He walked her to the car, making a list of things he needed
to do to protect her. Sliding into the seat, he started the car and glanced at
her. Her skin had regained some color and he wanted to replace that downturn to
her lips with a smile. She didn’t deserve his shit landing on her doorstep.

“Why don’t you stay with me for a few days?”

She blinked at him. “Why?”

He shrugged, trying to appear casual even though he broke
out in a cold sweat. “It’d make me feel a whole lot better.”

“Gillian won’t actually hurt me.”

“What if it’s not—” He exhaled hard. “It’d make me feel
better if you’d just stay.”

Her smile was wobbly and it stabbed him through the chest.
What’d happened still unsettled her.

“Please,” he said.

“All right.”

He drove her home and helped her gather some things,
carrying them into his house. Walking her through his alarm system, he handed
her an extra set of keys. “I have to go out for a bit to sort something out but
I need you to stay here. You have my number if you need me.”

Bridget wrapped her arms around herself. “Okay.”

Distractedly he buzzed a kiss on her lips and hurried back
to his car. He needed to put the order in place, then he was going to hire a
private investigator and find where Katrina was hiding.