Very Bad Things (Briarcrest Academy) (34 page)

“Alcohol, tattoos, and sex with friends,” Lyla responded
with purpose, clearly happy with the seed she had planted. Max’s nostrils
flared slightly as he sent Lyla an evil stare, his knuckles whitening over the
rag he was using to wipe the bar top…again. Her gaze then settled on her best
friend. She knew exactly what was going on in that pretty little head of
Janie’s just by the way she was trying to sneak a look Max. If there was ever a
kitten-to-a-bowl-of-cream metaphor to be used, now was the time.

JANIE COULD SENSE a shift in the
mood between Lyla and Max when she came back from the bathroom, but she tried
to ignore it. She eyed Max through her long lashes and lifted her glass. God,
the man was hot; set-your-panties-on-fire hot. His wavy, dark-blond hair hung
slightly too long, but called out for Janie to run her fingers through it. His
eyes were the most incredible shade of green, reminding her of fresh-cut grass
in spring. But his body, his body could—and did—make grown women swoon, Janie
included.

She trained her stare on his broad chest—so much thick
muscle and sinew, stretched under his thin, black, cotton T-shirt. She watched
intently as he turned around to grab a bottle from the shelf behind him, his
jeans low on his lean hips, sculpting his perfect ass in a way that made Janie
jealous of the piece of denim. In fact, his hard, well-defined form had been
the topic of several Thursday-night conversations. Oftentimes, Max was a
participant in those talks, too.

“What do you want me to tell you?” He would say with an
arched brow, “I want to stay in shape…gotta look good for the ladies.”

“Can you get any cockier?” Janie had asked one night, to
which Max had chuckled in his manly way,

“Speaking of cock…”
Everyone had started laughing
uncontrollably. That was the night that Janie had fallen totally and completely
in lust with Max.

Yep, she wanted that man. He was always friendly, and even
flirty, but she never took it seriously. The man had women throwing themselves
at him; she witnessed it every Thursday night. Sure, Lyla said that Max treated
Janie differently than he did other women, but she couldn’t see it. She knew
she wasn’t in his league. Hell, they didn’t even play the same sport. She was
happy just being friends with Max. Okay, maybe not
happy
…but she would
rather be friends than nothing at all.

As soon as Lyla had spoken the words “sex with friends,”
Janie’s eyes had found Max. A shiver ran up her spine when his emerald eyes
bore into hers. She wanted to touch him—it felt almost painful not to—but she’d
resisted the urge by lifting her glass to her lips while keeping her eyes fixed
on his. This was Max, her
friend
. Of course she could touch him; she had
touched him hundreds of times before, but with these thoughts running rampant
through her mind, she feared that if she so much as brushed the skin on his
hand right now, she would burn to ashes.

Sex with friends—God, she
needed
to get laid. Or to
quote Lyla, she needed “a good fuck.”

Janie subtly brought her cool hands up to her warm cheeks,
hoping no one could see the flush that was forming from her thoughts. The
desire to feel needed and loved kept leading her to the wrong guys, but she
kept trying to find her own “Happily Ever After” anyway. As unrealistic as she
knew it may be, she couldn’t let go of her childhood fantasies, the ones where
she dreamed that someday, she would find someone who would make her feel whole.
Complete. Cherished. Loved. What she actually found, though, ran the gamut
between the boring and bland to the douchey, cheating assholes.

Plus, her sex life always bordered on “why bother?” She’d
had enough men tell her that she was frigid and cold in bed to realize they
were probably right. She could accept boring, unfulfilling sex, if only it came
with an honest, loving man.

She watched Max pour a beer with his perfectly sculpted
forearms and slide it to the customer in front of him. What she would do for
Max…God, what
wouldn’t
she do for Max?

Her mouth suddenly dry, she picked up her glass and let the
sweet liquid hit her lips.

“So, Max…what time do you get off tonight?” Lyla asked as
Janie choked on her drink.

With all eyes on her—and her cheeks growing warm with
embarrassment, or lust—she shrugged. “What? You asked what time he gets
off…that’s funny! Come on, Ly...that’s funny.” Lyla smirked.

“I don’t know when, or
if
, he will be ‘getting off’
tonight, but he gets off
work
right now,” Danny said, with a wink to
Janie and a squeeze to Max’s shoulder. Max gave Danny a questioning,
are-you-sure look, and Danny nodded.

“Well, then, I guess I’m done for the night,” Max said, his
gaze landing on Janie.

Janie looked at Lyla, eyes big as saucers, “Um…”

“I’m kind of exhausted,” Lyla said, stretching, “I think I’m
gonna head out. I need to be up early tomorrow. Max, would you mind taking
Janie home? You know where she lives, right?” Janie’s jaw dropped, Lyla knew
the answer to that question before she asked it; Max had been to Janie’s
apartment several times for Sunday dinner.

Max nodded, “My pleasure.”

A jolt of electricity surged through his body as he made his
way out from behind the bar.

Janie’s body was still, but her heart was racing.

Lyla tapped her on the shoulder, “Janie?”

“Ly, I’ll come with you, no worries.”

Max weaved his arm around Janie’s waist though, pulling her
away from Lyla, “Sex with friends, Janie,” he whispered into her ear, a
question in his voice.

Exhaling what felt like all of the air in her body, she
looked into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. “Max…I don’t know…I mean—”

“Let me take you home tonight, Janie. I’ve been thinking
about you for months. Don’t tell me it’s one-sided.” His confident grin told
her that he knew the attraction went both ways.

Between the warmth of his breath and his woodsy, clean
smell, Janie had goose bumps running down her arms. Her focus keened on Max
while addressing Lyla.

“Ly, I’ll…um…”

“Talk to me tomorrow.” Lyla slung her purse over her
shoulder, “Hey, Max, be a kind man and a good boy,” she warned.

Something sexy quickly passed over Max’s handsome face
before he smiled his patented lazy grin. “I promise to be a kind man.” He
winked and led Janie out the door.

“By the way,” he said in her ear, “the Jeep had a flat tire,
so I had to drive my other car.”

Excitement rushed through Janie’s body at the impending
ride…and she wasn’t just thinking about Max’s Ferrari.

SCANNING THE BAR, Lyla watched as
people began to pair off and leave together. Once Janie and Max had left, she’d
sat back down and ordered another drink. She glanced toward the corner table, where
she had seen the guy she wanted desperately to take home herself earlier in the
evening. She had spotted him at the bar on other nights but never talked to
him. They had shared some pretty steamy looks, too, though he had never
approached her. Normally she wouldn’t play so coy, but there was something
about him that kept her from making the first move. She could tell he’d be
dangerous for her. Not menacing or scary, but something worse…

She tried to shake his shadowed face from her mind. Her body
reacted every time she saw him, and now even when she just thought of him.
See?
Dangerous.
She was never lacking in male companionship, as Danny so
thoughtfully pointed out earlier that night, and she snorted to herself.
Something about her mystery man was different; he was the kind of guy she would
write about in her novels - tall, dark, brooding, and all alpha male. She
didn’t know how she knew this without ever speaking a single word to him—she
just did. But his chair sat empty, so what did it matter?

She shrugged and took another sip of her drink, then
snickered to herself as her thoughts slid back to Janie and Max. “All I had to
do was light the match. Here’s to the fire.” Lyla raised her glass to toast her
good deed and took a deep pull of the sweet concoction.

“Don’t stand too close to the fire until you’re ready to
feel the burn.” A gravelly voice whispered the words in her ear, from behind,
and sent tingles down her spine.

“What?” The startled response that eked out of her mouth was
almost unrecognizable.

A sexy chuckle escaped the throat of the man whose warmth
was radiating into Lyla’s skin. She attempted to turn around, curious to see
the face that was attached to that voice, but a large hand at the base of her
neck stayed her movement. As his thumb gently stroked her neck a
whisker-roughened cheek murmured in her ear, “No reason to turn around,
sweetheart. You know who I am. Everything else you need to know you can feel
pulsing through your body right now. Enjoy your drink. I’ll see you soon.”

The cool air seeped into her body as the warmth of his hand
left her skin. By the time Lyla worked up the courage to turn around, all she
got was a glimpse of a firm ass covered in perfectly worn jeans, a tight, white
T-shirt that hugged a broad back, and inky-black hair that hung just below the
neck of said T-shirt.

“What the fuck just happened? Who the hell was that?” Lyla
gasped as Ashley, the bartender who’d stepped in for Max, just smiled. “Ashley,
Goddamn it! Seriously, did you see him?”

Ashley looked at her with a grin, “That’s Max’s friend.
You’ve probably seen him here before.” She put a glass of ice water in front of
Lyla, gestured to her cheeks, and gave a devilish smile, “You look like you
could use this.”

“SO, YOUR PLACE or mine?” Janie
asked nervously as they left the parking lot. The butterflies in her stomach
were starting a revolution as she took in the sexy profile of the man sitting
to her left, with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh. Was she
really doing this? Not to mention, doing it with Max DeLucca?

Removing his hand from her leg, Max placed both hands on the
steering wheel of his black Ferrari Spider. Janie held in the whimper that
threatened to escape from the loss of his touch.

Max pulled over to the side of the road, and she felt the
butterflies once again trying to take flight. Why was he stopping? Had he
changed his mind?

“Janie,” he said, his voice strong but calm. “Janie, look at
me. I need to see your eyes.” She looked into his grassy-green orbs. Callused
fingers stroked her jaw, sending shivers through her body, “I won’t hurt you.
Your body is safe with me. Do you understand?”

She wasn’t sure she did, but she nodded silently.

The innocent, doe-eyed look on her face brought out his
every possessive instinct. “Words, Janie, I need words,” Max demanded.

“I think I understand, Max.” She couldn’t help the
breathless tone in her voice, “But what is this about?”

He inhaled, holding the air in his lungs for an extra second
before letting it go, his eyes smoldering while his body still held the relaxed
pose that had become so familiar to her. She could hear her own heart beating,
and she could also hear it stop when the next statement left Max’s lips.