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Mallory had a feeling that New Year’s at Couture would be much different. She found a little red dress that was a whisper of silk. She tossed off all her clothes and slipped it over her head. There was a three-fold, full-length mirror. Twirling around, she saw that the dress fit her perfectly. She almost wished for heels to match. A quick look showed her that there weren’t any shoes. That was an oversight she’d have to mention to Colleen. What kind of a half-ass fantasy shop was she running here?

They were probably all in Colleen’s closet.

She eyeballed her underwear on the floor. It would definitely ruin the lines of the dress. A reluctant grin tugged at the corner of her mouth and she tousled her hair to try for a sexier approach. Some makeup and a hairbrush in here would do wonders also. A trickle of excitement tumbled around in her stomach. What was Max up to?

She turned off the light and shut the door behind her. The silk against her bare breasts whispered a sensual trail across her flesh. She felt naughty and exposed without her panties, but she remembered what Max had ordered last night when they were playing. She wasn’t up for a full-on scene, but maybe a nice grope session was in order. She’d never get enough of Max’s muscles. She was particularly fond of his shoulders. Her fingers itched to touch him. Stretching, Mallory willed the doubt and fear away. There was no place for it here.

The dojo was now completely dark except for that one wall. Instead of a beach scene, this time she had a panoramic view of Times Square. The clock read 11:30 p.m. The view was as if they were on a hotel balcony far above the chaos, but close enough to feel the excitement of the crowd.

“This is incredible,” Mallory said, getting closer. It was so real, she could see the people stamping their feet in the cold and hear the music from the bandstands. The neon lights flashed ads and a wide-screen television on one of the buildings was showing Ryan Seacrest. There was a 3D feel to the wall that had her reeling.

Max came up behind her and handed her a glass of champagne. She turned to clink glasses with him and forgot to breathe. He was dressed in a tuxedo.

“To us,” he said.

Mallory could only nod. He looked like James Bond.

Max put the bottle in an ice bucket. “Come here,” he said, holding out his arm.

She stepped into his embrace and they looked out into the city. “I don’t think this place will ever stop surprising me.”

“It’s good to have a little bit of wonder in your life. In
our
life. Which brings me to my question: Mallory, will you marry me?”

Mallory’s eyes locked on the glittering ball. “I want to say this is so sudden, but I already feel like I’m in a movie. You don’t understand. My life isn’t this carnival of sex and hedonism.
It’s long hours where I’m covered with blood and body fluids, listening to crying and screaming and trying to help people who are hurt. When I get home, I don’t dive into a waterbed and get spanked to orgasm. I fall asleep in my clothes.”

“So maybe it’s time for a change.” Max handed her a velvet box.

She drained her champagne and set the glass on a table. Reaching out for the box, she clutched it to her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes. “When we met, we said we were going to go slow. It’s been the opposite of slow.”

He tipped her chin up with a finger. “Are you having regrets?”

“No, never. My head is whirling.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “Then that’s all that matters.”

He set his glass down and held her. Soft jazz began to play. They swayed together in each other’s arms. Mallory laid her head on his chest and watched the clock ease its way toward midnight.

“Aren’t you even going to look at the ring?” Max teased.

“If I look at it, this becomes real. It’s no longer a fantasy. I hoped, but never dreamed, it would come to this.”

“What were you expecting to happen?”

“I figured we’d have a great couple of months before my hours pissed you off and you’d spend more time here at Couture.”

“Honey, it’s no fun without you.”

“You’d be working,” she said.

“If you remember, your sister put me on leave. That’s one step out the door.”

“Yeah, but I have a bet with her that Istvahn and Nefertiti are in love.”

“What?” Max pulled back to look at her. “Are you crazy? They’re more like brother and sister.”

“Seriously, what planet are you from?”

“What’s the bet?”

“If I win, you get your job back.”

“What happens if you lose?”

“I have to host Christmas and Thanksgiving, and …” Mallory muttered the last part.

“Repeat that. After the holiday stuff.”

“I have to belly dance Friday nights at Shira’s.”

“How are you going to get off work?”

“I’m not planning on losing.”

“How can you possibly prove that they’re in love?” Max went for the champagne and refilled their glasses.

Mallory peeked into the box. It was an emerald-cut yellow diamond. She gasped and snapped it shut. “How did you … This must have cost …”

Max raised an eyebrow and handed her the flute glass. “I came into some money recently.” He took the ring out of the box. “Just try it on.”

“If I put it on,” she said, “I’m never taking it off.” She extended her finger.

He slipped it on. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes,” she said. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

“I hope
you
don’t.”

“How could I?” she said.

“There are always going to be women like Misty—providing you win this crazy bet and I come back here. Which is a big if. I think Istvahn is asexual.”

“A sexual what?”

“And there’s a chance that no one is going to want my fitness gear that I busted my ass putting together. You might resent the fact that I’m not what I was when you met me.”

“Kind? Sexy? Crazy about me?”

“Definitely the last part. None of that is going to change.”

“We can make this work,” she said, realizing she was convincing herself as well as him.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

“We’re not going to be able to spend a lot of time together. With my schedule, I’ll barely be home.”

“So I’ll come and bring you dinner or a midnight snack.”

Mallory shook her head and held on to his hand. It was getting closer to midnight. “I just figured you’d take the opportunity to hang out home or here.”

“I want to be with you, Mallory. That’s why I’m marrying you. If all I wanted was sex and an apartment, I wouldn’t have bought you a diamond. You like it, don’t you?”

“It’s fantastic.” She flexed her fingers to see it sparkle. “It’s perfect. It’s so different from my last one—just like you. And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to sell it for drugs.”

“I am not David,” he said.

“I know. That’s why I’m wearing your ring and not his.”

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said.

“Is it? Or have I just dragged you into my messed-up world?”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere.” He dipped his head down and kissed her.

He tasted like champagne and hope. Mallory closed her eyes and felt herself let go. His mouth was soft and warm. Their lips slid over each other’s with a growing eagerness. Max’s
hand smoothed down to her backside. He pressed her tight against him. She felt the hardness through his suit pants and her nipples tightened in response. Pulling up her dress, he smoothed his hand over her bare cheeks.

“You remembered.” He lifted his mouth from hers to smile at her.

“I didn’t want to be punished.”

“That’s a shame. I’d like to turn your ass as red as your dress.”

“Not tonight,” she said. “I’m feeling a little fragile.” But the thought of him manhandling her shot a bolt of desire through her.

“We can still go slow.”

“After all we’ve done?”

“If I had to keep topping the last sexual escapade, it would get weird and kinky really fast.”

Mallory shimmied out of the dress. “I want you to make me come at the stroke of midnight.” She indicated the clock, which now read 11:55 p.m. “But you have to keep the tuxedo on.”

“In that case,” he said, reaching inside the ice bucket for a cube, “I’m going to have to up my game a bit.”

He traced her shocked mouth with the ice cube before popping it inside. “Suck on that.”

“I’d rather suck on you,” she said, swishing the ice around her mouth.

“No, this is your deal. I’m going to do my best to give you what you want.” He took another ice cube and trailed it over her neck in small circles. Leaning in to suck the cold wetness on her throat, Max moved the ice cube to her nipple.

Cold pleasure faded to heat at Max’s insistent mouth. But the circle on her nipple made her ache for him to replace the freeze with the burn of his kiss. The ice cube melted by the time he reached her belly button. He released her neck to get another.

“Am I going to have a hickey?” she asked, her eyes half closed with passion.

When he was back within reach, she unbuttoned his trousers as he used both hands to circle her nipples with wet, chilly ice.

“I thought you wanted me fully dressed.”

“How can you fuck me when you have your pants on?”

“You said make you come, and I still have two minutes.”

“Better hurry,” she breathed, pulling him free from his pants.

“Never.”

His mouth clamped on her nipple as he reached down to press the ice cube inside her.

“Oh!” she cried as it disintegrated immediately in her wet heat. But not before he touched her clit with the icy cube. “That’s cold.”

His fingers worked her bud and he switched to her other nipple. Mallory held his thick member in her hand as the clock counted down. He grazed his teeth when she started to pump him with jerky eager movements.

“Want something?” he asked, letting her caress him.

“You.”

He kissed down to her stomach. “How am I doing?”

“One minute,” she said.

He sank to his knees in front of her. “Don’t ever say I didn’t get down on one knee to propose.”

“I think I’ll leave this part out of the engagement story.”

Max eased between her legs and wasted no time licking her pulsing heat. At her groan, he pulled her thigh over his shoulder. She had to grab his head to keep from falling. She kept her hands there to guide him.

“Yes,” she sighed. Thirty seconds.

His tongue was darting at a mad pace. The flickering sound of his mouth in her most sensitive spot was loud over the jazz. At fifteen seconds, he pushed two fingers inside her and glided them in and out. Her thighs shook. Mallory went up on tiptoes.

“I don’t believe this,” she gasped.

“Count,” he growled, pressing a third finger inside her.

“T-ten.”

His mouth pressed tight inside her.

“Nine,” she shrieked.

Quivers shook her and her hands tangled in his hair as her hips arched to take the quick jabs of his fingers.

“Want you.”

His tongue was circling her clit, not giving her a chance to recover from the soft ministrations that belied the harsh pumping of his fingers.

“Seven.
Shit
. Six.
Ah
.”

Her knees buckled as it hit her. Wetness coated his fingers and his tongue. He clamped her ass when she moved away. Max slid his fingers out and eased her to the floor.

“Now!” she cried, wrapping her legs around him as he maneuvered his cock inside her.

“Happy New Year!” the crowd cried and fireworks went off.

“Auld Lang Syne” played as Max pounded into her. She felt the cold floor under her shoulder blades as he pressed her legs over her head.

Deeper than she thought she could take him, Mallory moaned. Max grunted in response and drilled into her fast. The slapping of his body against hers made her breasts rub against her
thighs.

“Yes,” he said, rolling his hips.

“Please,” she begged, wanting to reach that pinnacle again.

His harsh breathing and relentless pounding was bringing her so close. This.
This is what a New Year’s fucking should be like
. It hit her with the force of a freight train. She wasn’t sure if the fireworks were on the screen or in her head.

“Mallory,” he roared and came shuddering on top of her. Easing her legs down to his hips, he rocked her until she clenched around him. The lights of Times Square were emblazoned on the inside of her eyelids.

No, this is what a New Year’s Life was like.

They stumbled out of the dojo together, dressed again in normal clothes, arms wrapped around each other. Mallory was disoriented. It was no longer midnight. It was barely three in the afternoon. While she and Max cuddled and drank champagne, someone was blowing up her phone. There were messages flashing on the screen. Something had happened. Before she could work up the nerve to listen to them, they ran into Nefertiti, who was coming in. She had relaxed her hair so it was no longer piled on top of her head like an Egyptian queen. It fell in soft curls down her bare shoulders. She wore a leather bustier and a long skirt. Her jacket was hooked over one finger.

“How was your date?” Max asked.

“It was great,” she said. “It was nice to have lunch with someone who hung on my every word.”

“So why are you back so early?” he said.

“No need to rush things.”

“She got what she wanted from the sergeant,” Istvahn said from behind them.

Damn secret doors
.

Nefertiti pouted playfully. “Not everything.”

A muscle worked in Istvahn’s jaw.

“Did you find out anything about David’s case?” Mallory said.

She shook her head. “He told me David threw up in the back of the squad car and pissed himself.”

“Shut the front door!” Mallory exclaimed.

“He also said you probably don’t have to worry much about David after tonight.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, but that’s still good news,” Mallory said.

“I’m going to check if the realtor sent the paperwork for your outreach center. I’d tell you to have a good night, but it looks like you already did.” She smiled at them, eye-fucked Istvahn, and walked toward her office.