All He Wants (9 page)

His mission to rein in his body’s response to Maxi was made considerably harder when she lifted her arms as she stretched out on the cushions. Billy’s eyes automatically tracked her cat-like movements as her hands raised above her head and her “slippie”-covered toes pointed. Her back arched off the couch. A small sliver of sexy skin was made visible as the hem of her shirt raised and the material pulled taut against her full chest. It was sheer agony being this close to her, especially looking so soft and sweet, and not being able to touch her. To hold her. To kiss her.

She moved with unintentional sensuality, yawning and stretching, in what was playing out in his fantasy-riddled brain as
video vixen on top of a car
—but, in reality, was just her attempts to get comfortable. By the time she relaxed and laid down he was about ready to pop in his pants.

Oblivious to the seductive torment she was causing him, she peeked over the back of the couch at him with wide innocent eyes and patted the cushion beside her. “Sit. We need to talk.”

Shit.

When she turned her head around, towards the blank screen of her television after summoning him, he took a moment to adjust himself. It didn’t completely camouflage his situation, but at least it didn’t look like there was a tent in his pants.

Carefully, he sank down beside her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She wanted to talk, and he had a million questions running through his mind. Starting with what in the hell she saw in Simon and who the hell was on the phone when she’d excused herself to take a call and then had come out of the apartment looking like Casper the ghost. But, since this was her show, he waited to see what
she
thought they needed to talk about. After several beats of silence, he glanced over to see her looking at him expectantly.

Did she expect him to say something?

One way to find out.

“What?” He hadn’t meant to bark his question, but it seemed like all of the pent up frustration and fear was finding its way out.

She drew back slightly.

Shit.
He should be comforting her, not scaring her. He was on the edge. Emotionally and physically. He really needed to deal with his own shit so he didn’t inadvertently take it out on the one person that didn’t need or deserve it.

All night he’d been in a heightened state of awareness of not just Maxi but also their surroundings. The poetry reading that they’d suffered through had been held in a coffee shop that had three points of entry and exit. Front door. Side door. Back door. He’d spent the entire night keeping track of who was coming and going. Who stared a little too long at Maxi, who paid no attention to her at all. Sadly, one of the people in the paid-no-attention-at-all category happened to be her date for the evening. Simon had seemed much more interested in analyzing and sharing his thoughts on the poets performing than he was in Maxi, or
Maxine
.

It’d taken discipline that Billy hadn’t known he possessed not to call him out on his pretentious, douchebag behavior. He’d bitten his tongue so many times he wouldn’t be surprised if he had permanent teeth marks in it.

With a quivery breath, Maxi licked her lips nervously. Again the man downstairs decided to interpret the gesture as all systems go before getting the orders from his brain. His shaft pulsed heavily beneath his zipper as he watched her tongue slip between her full, pink lips.

His eyes shot to the blank television and he tried to think of anything other than how badly he wanted to pull Maxi onto his lap and take over her lip-licking activities.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft—just like it had been when she’d come out of the room for her date—that he wasn’t even sure that he’d heard her correctly.

“What?” he repeated, this time his tone not quite as harsh.

“I know you’re mad at me and I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on with me. I wanted to tell you…I just…I didn’t know how. And, honestly, I kept thinking that it would stop. I didn’t want
anyone
to know. I didn’t want my dad to worry. He’s seemed tired lately—”

“You think I’m mad at you?” He knew that she’d said other things after that, but his brain had kind of gotten stuck on that.

“You are.” She shrugged as if it was not an assumption but a foregone conclusion.

“No. I’m not.” Billy felt a hell of a lot of things when it came to Maxi. The list was long. Lust. Fear. Need. Anxiety. Possessiveness. Confusion. Desire. But anger wasn’t on it.

“Yes, you are.” Confusion swam in her bright blue eyes as they searched his. She lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers. “You couldn’t even look at me when you walked into Jessie’s office earlier today. You haven’t been yourself, even around me,
especially
around me. Jana was practically throwing herself at you and you barely noticed. You haven’t said more than ten words to me or anyone else the entire night. I know you hate when people keep things from you. Lie to you. I remember…I mean…I just…I know you. I know when you’re mad.”

Billy knew what she was talking, or actually
not talking,
about. One night, right after he’d started training with Charlie, his mom had come down to the gym, drunk off her ass. She’d told him that her boyfriend had locked her out of their apartment and she’d demanded that Billy go “kick his ass.” When he’d refused, and told her to go sober up, she’d started offering sexual favors to the other boxers in the gym in exchange for them beating the shit out of her boyfriend.

He was so angry that his mom could do something so humiliating. Drunk or not, at that point he didn’t care. He couldn’t even look at her. Charlie had helped him get her out of the gym and on the way home she’d passed out. When they got her to the apartment her boyfriend said that she’d stormed out screaming that her son was going to kill him because she’d found a text from another woman.

He’d gone home with Charlie that night, and Maxi had stayed up watching movies with him. She hadn’t pushed him to talk and they’d never spoken about it since.

Billy shifted, turning towards Maxi. His emotions and hormones were running on overdrive. As much as he was worried that he was going to say or do something that he shouldn’t, he knew he needed to set her straight.

It was a long shot that she would take him at his word, but he figured he might as well give straightforward one more try. “I’m not mad at you.”

Crossing her arms, she tilted her head to the side and, shock of all shocks, had more questions. “Okay. Then why didn’t you look at me,
say
anything to me, when you came to SPC?”

What am I, on trial?

“Why did you ignore Jana all night? Why have you been so quiet? Getting you to talk has been like pulling teeth.”

Okay. I guess so.

The only good thing that was coming out of this inquisition was that his lower half was no longer standing at attention. He leaned back against the couch and tried to figure out what to say to her. He couldn’t tell her the truth. That after he found out what was going on, his world had stopped and he couldn’t breathe until he’d seen that she was safe.

She didn’t need to know that when he walked into that office, her back was to him, and even though he had visual proof that she was alive and unharmed, he couldn’t quite process it. He wanted to…no
needed
to pick her up, carry her out of that office, take her to the closest private room and prove to both of them just how alive she was.

That even now, all he wanted to do was hold her. Feel her breathing against him. Keep her in his arms and never let her go.

Since he couldn’t say any of that, as calmly as possible, he tried to explain his behavior in a way that would be rational and normal. “I’m not mad. I’m on the job. This isn’t a social call. We’re not hanging out.
I
wasn’t on a date. I was working. You know how serious I am when I’m training. This is the same thing.”

Billy couldn’t count the number of times that Maxi had witnessed him getting ready for a fight. She knew that when he had a goal, an objective, he was laser focused. Nothing distracted him…well, except her. But she didn’t know that.

He could see the wheels turning in her beautiful mind. She was considering his explanation, but she wasn’t totally sold. Probably because she knew him too well. He figured his best move would be redirection. He was in no frame of mind or body to get into a battle of wits with her. And honestly, he didn’t think she was either.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he suggested.

“Wait!” Her eyes lit with realization as she pointed at him. “You’re spending the night.”

He didn’t really think that was a question but he answered anyway. “Yep.”

A slow, sly grin spread on her face as she wagged her brows. “I might as well take advantage of it.”

Despite the mischievous expression that she wore, Billy did not get his hopes up that her intentions were anywhere close to where his mind would be if he’d said those words.

He was proven right when she clapped her hands together. “I’ve been wanting to watch
The Conjuring 2
. Now I can.”

Billy was not a fan of the horror or thriller genre. They stressed him out. In fact, the only scary or suspenseful movies he’d ever seen were when Maxi was a teenager. She couldn’t watch them by herself, because her vivid imagination ran wild and she’d be scared for weeks. Yet, she still loved them…go figure.

“You
still
can’t watch them by yourself?”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “It’s even worse now that I live alone. I can’t watch them at all. Not if I plan on getting any sleep for at least a week after. But, since you’re here, I can. I won’t be scared. You’ll protect me.”

Billy wasn’t sure if she was just talking about the movie, or everything else that was going on in her life. What he was sure about was the pride that swelled in his chest hearing her tell him that she wouldn’t be scared with him there. He wanted to stand up and pound on his chest Tarzan-style, knowing that she trusted he would keep her safe.

As she grabbed the remote and started scrolling through Netflix, Billy tried to silence the thoughts that were crowding his brain. Thoughts like, he wanted to be the one that made her feel safe every night and day for the rest of her life. That he never wanted her to spend another night alone. That he never wanted her to go on another date with anyone other than him ever again.

She scooted closer to him, tucking her feet beneath her as the opening credits began playing and Billy’s chest swelled again. This time it wasn’t filled with pride, it was filled with the knowledge that this, being here together, felt natural. It felt right. Like this was where he belonged.

He needed to remember the reason he was here. In the three years since Maxi had bought this place, this was the first time he’d ever been invited to her apartment. And he wasn’t really invited now. He was here because she was in danger. He was here to protect her.

When this was over, everything would go back to the way it was. This was temporary. So why the hell did it feel so fucking permanent?

M
axi’s foot tapped on the hardwood floor as she scrolled through her vendor confirmation emails for the third time. Triple checking the responses had more to do with her inability to concentrate and less to do with possessing a stellar work ethic. Distracted didn’t begin to describe her mental state. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Billy Marshall.

Every attempt to tune out the fact that he was here, in her condo, on her couch—the couch that they’d slept on together last night—was a total fail. She’d try to clear her head but sneaky flashes of waking up snuggled against his chest, his arm wrapped around her body, his hand cupping her hip, kept popping up in her mind.

Last night felt so surreal. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. Her last memory of the night before was hiding her face in Billy’s shoulder during a particularly terrifying scene. The next recollection she had was drifting awake feeling warm, safe, and more than a little turned on.

Then her turned
on
state got turned
up
when she’d felt the vibration through his chest on her cheek as he’d said, “Good morning, gorgeous.”

That’s when she’d shot up off the couch like she’d sat on a porcupine. Her momentum resulted in her feet fumbling over each other. She stumbled, tripped, and even did a little spin just to stay on her feet. Normally she needed a cup of coffee before she was able to string two words together much less move like Jagger, but not this morning. Java had nothing on arousal. She was practically tap dancing and she’d barely opened her eyes.

Morning afters had never been something that Maxi had excelled at. She’d always chalked up her inability to gracefully navigate the awkwardness to a lack of experience. This morning wasn’t technically a “morning after” but she’d handled it with about the same amount of smoothness. Instead of saying good morning like a normal person, she’d sprung up from her seat and done her best speed walker impression to her bedroom where she’d changed into running clothes.