Pieces of Perfect (18 page)

I could hear people screaming with excitement in the background.
 “I’m almost there anyway.  I’ll come by.  Then we’re going to dinner.”  I hung up quickly without saying goodbye, hoping he could tell that I was annoyed with him, though I was secretly cursing at myself for not standing my ground.

I spotted him from across the casino.
 There was a crowd around the table, and Max’s deep voice boomed when he saw me.  “Lil, over here!”  He motioned for me to come closer.  “They all passed on their turns to roll because they want me to shoot again.  This table’s hot because of me.”  

One glance at him, and there was no denying that places always seemed hotter with Max there: planes, bars, auditoriums, cars . . casinos.
 He wore a slim dark gray suit with a black shirt and no tie.  He threw the dice to the other end of the table and the people cheered.  I wondered how many of them were watching because he was playing well, and how many of them just wanted to watch hockey great Max Samson look like a drunken fool.  

When I arrived at the table, I could barely squeeze in, but he pulled me to him.
 Once wedged under his arm, it became clear why there was a crowd around him.  I had to admit that there was a certain thrill that came with being Max Samson’s “girlfriend” for the weekend.  Not only was he good-looking, Max was the life of the party.

Chips shifted across the table at a rapid pace as people yelled out numbers.
 I had no idea what was happening.  “Pick one of those,” he said, pointing to the five numbers near the dealers.  “Not four, though.  That’s what's called the point.”  

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I chose nine.
 Max yelled “Nine,” and tossed a hundred dollar chip on the table toward the dealer.  “And press the ten,” he said dropping another hundred dollar chip down.

‘Are you crazy?
 That’s a ton of money.  What if you don’t win?”

“I always win,” he replied with a wink, as he threw the dice to the other end of the table again.

They bounced around, knocking over a stack of chips before the dealer yelled out, “Six. Came hard.”  

Other people seemed to be winning, but I still didn’t know what was happening, and Max was too busy chatting with the people beside him and throwing chi
ps around to explain anything.

A bell dinged as Max threw down a fifty dollar chip to give to the dealers as a tip.
 “Thank you, Mr. Samson.  Good luck,” said the pretty blonde as she pushed the dice to him with a stick.

He rolled again, and this time I knew what had happened as all the chips on the table were scooped into the hole.
 “Seven out.  Seven out,” the dealer called.  

“Guess you don’t win
every
time,” I pointed out.  “Now, let’s go.”  

Some bystanders waved some encouraging gestures for Max to stay.
 

“You only lose if you stop trying, Lil.
 Just one more.  It’s getting good.”  He clapped his hands loudly and tossed down a chip on the pass line as the woman to his left received the dice.  

I rolled my eyes.
 

Max took another drink off the waitress’s tray and replaced it with the empty glass in his hand.
 “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said with a charming smile and a flirtatious wink as he handed her a twenty-five dollar tip.

I’d had enough.
 “Max, I’m going to bed,” I said, turning around to push through the crowd when I felt a strong hand on my arm.  

“Lily, stay.”

“Fuck you, Max.  I’m done.  Enjoy your game.”  This time I didn’t let him stop me.  And
before long, I heard his slurred cheers again in the distance.

*              *              *

               Back at my room, I ordered room service again because I hadn’t eaten since lunch. Then I took a long bath, got into bed, and texted Adam good night sometime around 11:30.  I still had to be up fairly early for the autograph signing, and in spite of Max’s behavior, I still planned to put on a facade (which was getting increasingly difficult) to help him.  Besides, the sooner he got a broadcasting job, the sooner I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore.  

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I awoke around 2:30 to loud voices in the hall.  One of them I recognized instantly, and the other two sounded like they probably came from female versions of Max: sloppy drunks with no consideration for the people around them.  I heard Max shushing them loudly as the door to his room shut behind them.  But within minutes, there was music playing through the wall, accompanied by flirtatious, high-pitched laughter.  

I put my pillow over my ears and turned the TV on, hoping to drown out the cackling.
 God only knew what noises I would hear next.  These could be tame compared to what was to come.  And it wouldn’t help that our beds shared a wall.

After about a half hour, I’d had it.
 I banged on the wall, and when they made no effort be quieter, I marched out of my room to give him a piece of my mind.  I slammed on his door with my open palm until it opened and my hand collided with some slut’s face.  “Ow, what the fuck?”

“Um, ‘what the fuck?’ How about shutting the hell up?”
 I pushed past the two scantily clad pieces of trash to get to Max.  “Can you turn your fucking dance party down?  Some of us are trying to get some sleep so we can be ready for tomorrow.”

Max was lying on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned and a bottle of vodka from the mini bar in his hand when I barged in, but he rose to counter me.
 “We’re just having a good time.  Calm down.”  

I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him, even in these circumstances.
 His muscular frame, his pants low on his waist.  His boxers peeking above the top of them.  Christ, boxers?  He really
had
gotten dressed up!

“No, Max.
 
You
need to calm down.  You’re here to improve your image, and you’re acting like an out of control asshole.”  I was practically screaming.  “What the hell am I here for if you’re gonna pull this shit?”  I shook my head in disbelief as I looked around at the empty bottles of liquor scattered around the room.  The girls had already started grabbing their things, when I thought I would give them a few words of encouragement.  “Closing time, skanks.  Get the fuck out!”

As the ho train left, Max’
s eyes grew wide with amusement.  But his enjoyment of my comment disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived, and he took on a defensive tone.  “You’re gonna call me out of control?  You?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?
 I’m
nothing
like you!”

“No? Let’s take a little inventory of your previous transgressions, shall we?”
 He was practically yelling.  “Hmm . . . let’s see.  You let me fuck you in an airport hours after we met.  So there’s
that.
You’ve been using a middle school as your own private bedroom for the last two fucking months . . .”  He raised his eyebrows, clearly proud of his accusations.  “You called me in the middle of the night to get you from a nightclub because you were one shot away from needing your stomach pumped like a fucking teenager.”  His voice softened.  “And you don’t tell me about whatever the hell his name is . . . Andy or Adam or whatever until today.  So don’t stand here and act like you’re some fucking saint or something.  You’re no better than I am.”

My head spun.
 Max was so passionate, so reckless, so unconcerned with what others thought of him.  He was himself.  Take it or leave it.   And though I’d never admit it to him, Max was right.  I did act like I was better than him.  But clearly my actions didn’t support that claim.  So I wanted to avoid that part of the conversation altogether.  “What are you bringing Adam into this for?” was all I could think to say.

“It wasn’t me who brought him into this.
 It was you, remember?”  He stepped closer to me, minimizing the already small gap between us.  “You brought him into this without my knowledge.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.
 I’m fucking 27 years old.  I didn’t know I needed to ask your permission before I slept with someone.  You and I weren’t
anything
.”  The words left my lips before I could filter them, and I immediately regretted it.  Of all the hurtful things I could have said, I had chosen the worst.   

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that now.”
 His face dropped, and he ran a hand through his thick dark hair.  “What are you and this Adam guy then?  You don’t love him.  You said so yourself.”

“I don’t know, Max.
 It doesn’t matter.  Just like it doesn’t matter what you were doing with those classless hussies that were just here.”

“You don’t know
what
the hell I was doing in here.  You don’t know shit.  We were just having fun without worrying what other people thought.  You should try it sometime.”

“I’m done,” I conceded, rubbing my temples.
 “I don’t have it in me to fight with you at three in the morning.  We can talk about what a selfish dick you are some other time.”  

I stormed toward the door, but as I opened it, a hand reached above me to push it shut again.
 I smelled the alcohol when his breath tickled my neck as he spoke.   “Can he make you wet with just the sound of his voice?”  

Oh, shit.
 

He paused to let me absorb what he had just said before continuing.
 “You’re gonna miss this.  You know that?”  I could feel his presence behind me, but we hadn’t touched.  “The way I talk to you.  How fucking wild I am.  You’re gonna miss it when I’m gone.”   He removed his hand away
from the door and stepped back a few feet to let me open it.  “But I’m here now.  It’s your choice.”

I’d been looking at the menu long enough, and Max had just
asked to take my order.        

             
My eyes remained fixed on the door.  I was scared that if I turned around, my decision would be made the second I gazed into his bright blue eyes.
 
I’d been a fool to think that Max wouldn’t have this effect on me.  How had I expected to go away with him for a night and think that I could resist his advances?  I guess part of me had hoped that he wouldn’t even offer.  But another,
more primal part of me knew what he said was true.  And as I felt a deep throb low in my stomach, I was reminded that, on more than one occasion, Max had brought me to the verge of orgasm with his words alone.  

             
He was so rugged.  So bold.  So hedonistic.  And in that moment I realized why it had always been so difficult for me to refuse him.  I saw a part of myself in him that I rarely let scratch the surface.  I either had to let that part of myself go completely, or learn to embrace it without Max.  But for now, I needed one last time with him.  I hadn’t known that the day at Max’s house would be it for us.  I needed closure.  I needed to say goodbye to him.  To this.  

             
At last, I let myself turn around, but I kept my back against the door for a moment.  Max stood confident, one hand in his pocket and the other high against the wall.  He looked so powerful.  I expected him to say something seductive or come toward me, but he waited for me to make the first move.  

             
Without saying a word, I stepped toward him, needing to feel his skin against my own.  I pulled his head toward mine, rubbing his hair as my tongue penetrated his smooth wet lips.  In seconds, I was tugging at his shirt, needing to see his strong shoulders and squeeze the muscles of his biceps.  

He stumbled backward as I forced him up against a wall, while
I fumbled urgently with his belt buckle and kissed his chest.  Our hands slid up and down each other’s flesh, removing pieces of clothing with reckless speed.  The barriers of time and fabric seemed too much for us to bear.  He groaned into my neck as I grabbed ahold of his bulging erection beneath his boxers and pulled them down.  “We need a fucking condom.  Now!” I practically yelled.

             
I clung to Max as he staggered toward the bag on his bed, neither one of us willing to let the other go.  He stumbled clumsily, still struggling to remove his boxers and suck on my heavy breasts at the same time.  The thrill of how needy we were coursed through my veins like a drug.  I breathed heavily, tilting my head back while he used one hand to shove two fingers inside me and the other to search for a condom.  

             
When I heard the crinkle of the foil, I pulled it eagerly from his hand, tearing it open.  He kept his fingers inside me, as I pushed him onto the bed and grinded back and forth on top of them.  I could feel my orgasm building quickly.  With smooth dexterity, I rolled the condom onto his length.  Not wanting to wait any longer, I guided him to my opening, urging him inside.  He was so hard, and his thickness grew with every thrust, stretching me wide.  

Grabbing my hips, he led me back and forth with a steadily increasing rhythm.
 I ran my hands along my chest and down my stomach, needing to be touched.