DirtyInterludes (19 page)

* * * * *

Max sat on his lounge, restless anger coiled inside. Today
had been an utter waste. Because the acts were committed on Bridget and not
him, she was required to take the restraining order out on Katrina. And therein
posed his problem. He had to tell Bridget about his psycho stalker. Until then,
he’d have to wait to see a judge and present his case. Hopefully nothing
untoward would happen between now and then.

Bridget shifted and Max lifted his arm and brought her into
his side. She snuggled against him and warmth ballooned inside. Contentment
fought away his anxiety and he kissed the top of her head as her hand settled
over his heart. He stared into the eco-fireplace, letting all the dark thoughts
drift away. At least with Bridget staying with him he could ensure her safety
while he tried to hunt Katrina down.

Max looked at her flushed face, the glaze in her eyes told
him she was slightly buzzed. Gently he extracted the wine from her and placed
it on the side table. He brushed hair from her face and kissed her softly. Her
fruity breath tickled his senses and he eased back.

She gripped his shirt, pulling him toward her as she shifted
upward. She kissed him with passion, her tongue dancing provocatively inside.
She tasted tart and beautiful and Max didn’t have the strength to pull away. He
slipped his hand over her nape, his thumb circling behind her ear. She
whimpered, stabbing her tongue inside. He tasted her desire. Air stalled in his
lungs. Lust sluiced down his spine and his balls ached. Her hand slipped
beneath his shirt, skimming over his abs and chest, nails flicking over his
nipples. Max broke the kiss off on a hiss. His hand fell over hers as he peered
down at her lust-filled eyes.

“Where did you learn that?”

She pouted prettily. “Didn’t you like it?”

He grunted in pleasure as she pinched them delicately. Heat
surged over his skin. “Oh I like it.”

He fisted her hair and Bridget gasped, her eyelids drooping.
The kiss was savage and relentless, filled with all the frustration he’d felt for
the day. He wanted to mark her as his and have her know it too. Bridget shifted
and her weight settled over his lap, her dress spreading to accommodate the
move. He spread his fingers over the base of her back, bringing her into him as
he broke the kiss to lick a line down to her shoulder. Scraping his teeth along
her collarbone, he slipped his hand under the hem of her skirt and found her
wet heat. Bridget moaned as he circled her clit and he gloried in her wetness.
Her blunted nails scraped over his chest and his cock jerked as a sexual kitten
came out to play.

This was a side he hadn’t seen with Bridget and he liked it.
She rocked into his hand as he slid home, two fingers finding her canal tight
with need. Bridget threw her head back and cried out, her hair flowing loosely
around her. Max kissed the column of her neck, her pulse racing beneath his
lips. She was so hot.

Bridget shuddered softly and pushed him back into the
lounge. She stabbed him with a look filled with undiluted passion. “Take it
off.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice. With her still on his lap,
he removed his shirt and tried to shuffle out of his jeans. Bridget giggled and
stood, even as he made a grab for her. He wanted to feel her. To hold her
close. Forever.

As he kicked off the rest of his clothes, Bridget unzipped
her dress and it fell with a whisper to the floor. Max groaned at the sight of
her sexy body as she removed the remaining undergarments, leaving her
lusciously naked. The fire licked her skin, giving it a fine orange hue. She
looked like a pagan goddess ready to claim her next victim in a night of
decadent passion.

She knelt before him, and before he could question her, she
grabbed his shaft and pumped him. Jesus. He hissed and threw his head back, his
hands finding leverage on the cushions as she palmed his cock. Awareness chased
along his erection and his heart raced. Her hot breath skated along his stomach
and he forgot to breathe.
She wasn’t, was she?

Her mouth encased the head of his dick and Max stiffened as
a drop of pre-cum emerged. She tasted it, swirling her wet, warm tongue over
him. Something niggled in the back of his head and he tried to grasp it.
Bridget swallowed more of him and Max cursed. Her fingers tightened over the
base of his cock and he was silently thankful of it. Anything to keep him from
coming. Her head bobbed and euphoric bliss tightened around him. His balls drew
tight and he stiffened. He was about to…

She drew away, her lips swollen from sucking him off. She
settled on his lap and Max kissed her, opening her ruthlessly to his need. His
tongue plunged and retreated, mimicking sex. Max traced his hand up her back,
marveling at her smooth skin. Never had he felt such soft skin before. The head
of his cock brushed over her exposed pussy and he shuddered. Damn. Max grunted,
warning bells blaring in the distance.

“No, stop.”

Bridget moaned and rocked against him. “Don’t think, feel.”

Max grit his teeth as all common sense threatened to leave
him. He grasped her waist and she leaned forward to swirl her tongue over his
tattoo. Lust blasted all thought. He groaned. “No, no. Protection.”

Bridget slid off him as he reached down and fumbled through
his jeans, his fingers trembling with repressed need. It was a close call. He
found what he was after and ripped it free from the package. Her fingers
wrapped around his, the condom on the head of his cock. He looked into her
eyes, seeing an indefinable emotion that stilled his heart a moment.

“Let me.”

Max eased his hand away and hissed as pleasure spiraled down
his cock, following in the wake of Bridget’s hand. The condom settled at the
base and she straddled him. He moaned at the feel of her wet heat. Damn it felt
so good. His eyes rolled and goose bumps rose on his flesh. He slid fingers up
her sides as she rode him. The muscles in his legs gave out at the pure
pleasure of being inside her. The sound of their fucking filled the
semi-darkness. Her skin glowed from the firelight and he cupped a breast,
flicking his tongue over the tight nipple. Bridget cried out, her arms wrapped
loosely around his neck.

“Oh Max, fuck me.”

Desire marched down his spine at her words. He’d never heard
her say such things and it turned him on. She was in the moment as much as he,
her nails biting into his flesh. Her undulations grew frantic, a whimper
leaving her. Max tightened his grip on her and timed their thrusts. Flesh
slapped against flesh and Bridget screamed, her body bowing as she came. Her
vagina tightened over him and Max shuddered as pure heavenly bliss shook him.
Everything fell away and he existed only as a being swallowed by intense need.
He exploded in a blaze of light and groaned as he came down from the orgasm.
Bridget leaned against him, her shoulders trembling.

His cock bobbed and he shifted, frowning at the weird sensation
along his shaft. Suddenly it hit him. The ripple wasn’t Bridget, but something
foreign brushing against him. The condom. A chill ran down his spine and killed
his ardor. Shit. The damage was done. He swallowed hard. Last time he’d tested
clean, but since then he’d had partners—granted, with a condom, but nothing was
foolproof. He pushed her back, easing his cock from her. He tried to keep his
features neutral, even as panic ate at his control.

Bridget brushed hair from her face and frowned. “Is something
wrong?”

He swallowed the bile at the back of his throat. “I think it
broke.”

She blinked at him, then her hand slapped over her mouth.
“Oh my God.”

He nodded grimly.

She scrambled off him, pulling on her clothes as if doing so
would undo what had just happened. Max grimaced and pulled the condom off,
careful to keep it in its current state. He held it up to the light. The tear
was near the base, his semen still caught at the tip. “It’s
okay. I think…I think it’s still in there.”

Hand to her forehead, her eyes narrowed. The tension spilled
out in one heavy exhalation. “I can’t get pregnant right now.”

Her words, so haphazardly thrown out there, stung, and Max
was unsettled by how it affected him. He knew the sensation of a condom
breaking and always stopped. Always. The condom didn’t break fully and escaped
his notice, but still, to put her at risk for STDs was uncool. He stood,
pulling on his jeans.

He wrapped her in his arms, holding the anxiety at bay.
“We’ll deal with whatever comes our way.”

She nodded into his chest and Max tightened his grip. Ice
stabbed through his heart at the thought that it was his own actions that put
her at risk.

Chapter Fifteen

Bridget woke sometime around noon, daylight slanting through
the window and into her face. She rolled over, half expecting to find Max
beside her, but found the bed empty. Instead, on his pillow was a small bouquet
and attached to it was a note. She pulled out the yellow card and read the
content.

Gone to see Bryce. Don’t worry about what happened. We
can face anything together. Have my cell, call me if you need me.

Love, Max.

She picked up the bouquet and smelled the roses. It was so
clichéd, but it warmed her heart. Last night they’d spent in quiet silence.
Their relationship was new and already had suffered more than its fair share of
dramas. The only thing that reassured her was the gentle sweep of his hands
along her arms and the way he’d occasionally kiss her forehead. He acted as if
he couldn’t stand not to touch her. Surely that was a good thing, wasn’t it?

While she worried for the vast change one mistake could make
to her life, she was also strangely calmed by it. A life. A possibility. It was
rash and silly, but nothing with Max had ever been by the book. They started
out hating each other and now… Now she thought she might love him. He showed an
interest in her music and cared for her when she received that horrible
package. She’d wanted to confront Gillian for the things she’d done, but Max
convinced her to err on the side of caution.

She wandered out of the room in search of a vase. She found
a heavy glass container that looked a bit like a fishbowl. Putting the flowers
in, she arranged them so they sat prettily. Settling on the lounge, she tapped
her fingers on the armrest. Max didn’t want her to leave the house by herself
after the dead-cat incident.

Shuffling through her bag she latched on to her cell. She
dialed a number and after a couple of rings a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”

“Cathy.”

“Where have you been? I swung by your house the other day
and you weren’t home.”

Bridget rubbed her forehead. “I had a bit of a scare and had
to go to the police.”

Tense silence stretched over the line. “You went to the
police? About what?”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay. Someone sent a dead cat to me and
told me to watch my back.”

“A dead cat?”

“Yes.” Even thinking about it made her stomach turn.

“Where are you?”

“I’m okay, really.”

“I don’t care. You were there for me when I needed it. I
want to be there for you now.”

Bridget smiled. “You’re the best. I’m staying with Max.”

“You’re staying with Max,” she repeated, dumbfounded.

“I know it sounds weird, but he insisted. Come over, Max is
out and I don’t want to be alone.”

“All right. I’ll see you in a few.”

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. She
opened it and, ignoring Cathy’s wary disposition, gave her a hug. “I’m so glad
you came.”

Cathy stepped beyond the threshold, her features befuddled.
Bridget waved Cathy farther into the house. “Come on, Cathy, I’ll make us some
coffee.”

She walked around the island and pulled out the coffee,
setting the boiler on. Cathy stood within the kitchen, a glaze of disbelief in
her eyes. “You’re making yourself at home, aren’t you?”

Bridget shrugged. “Max and I thought it was best if I move
in here for a bit until we sort out this business with whoever sent the cat and
slashed my tires.”

The water boiled and she poured two cups of coffee. After
adding a drop of milk she handed one to Cathy. “I’m not liking this idea of you
staying with Max. You should’ve called me up the minute you got that package.”

“You don’t have to worry, Max was with me.”

“He was
with
you?”

Bridget slid her coffee back onto the counter. “Yes. He was
very sweet about it all. Protective.”

Cathy waved a hand. “Wait, wait, back it up a sec. Max was
with you? When you got this package?”

Bridget frowned. “Yes.”

“When were you going to tell me you were sleeping with him?”

Guilt twisted inside at the look of betrayal on Cathy’s
face. “I didn’t want to burden you with my news when you were struggling with
your relationship. It seemed kind of rude.”

Cathy’s lower lip trembled and concern ballooned in
Bridget’s chest.

“Cathy, what is it?”

“He is going to leave me.”

After over a year of friendship, Bridget only now just
realized how focused Cathy was on herself. How her moods swung on a dime.
Still, she stepped forward and rubbed her friend’s arm. “Perhaps it’s for the
best? He has done nothing but make you miserable.”

Cathy’s dark eyes flashed with rage. “What do you know?
You’re the reason he’s leaving!”

Confusion and a frisson of fear sliced through her. “What?”

Cathy snatched at her wrist before she could withdraw it,
the grip incredibly tight. Bones compressed and Bridget bit back a cry of pain
as Cathy jerked her closer. “You. Are. The reason. Slut.”

Pain seared across her cheek, light flashing as Cathy
slapped her. Ears ringing, Bridget blinked against the white dots swirling
through her vision. “Cathy, what are you talking about?” she asked, her voice
pitchy with panic.

Cathy stared at her as if she were nothing bigger than a
gnat and equally as annoying. “Who do you think I was talking about? We were
having problems and you had to wave your little ass and he panted like the dog
he is.”

Bridget swallowed back the bile in the back of her throat,
the crazed glimmer in Cathy’s eyes sent ice trickling down her spine. Slowly
she edged her free hand toward the cup of coffee on the edge of the counter.
“What do you mean? I’d never seen you around him before. You never told me you
dated him. You said his name was Mitch.”

Cathy rolled her eyes. “His real name is Mitch.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is.”

Bridget winced as spittle hit her cheek. “Okay,” she said
with false calm. “It’s Mitch. I didn’t know.”

Her fingers latched on to the mug and Bridget hurled the
contents in Cathy’s face. The woman screamed, hands slapping over her face.
Bridget ran for the door, air burning her lungs. Agony seared along her scalp
and Bridget screamed as she was jerked back by her hair. Her backside hit the
hard tiles and pain shot up her spine. Crying out against the pain, she latched
on to Cathy’s wrist, trying to find release. Cathy pulled and Bridget scrambled
backward along her butt. Bridget screamed at the top of her lungs only to have
her hair pulled harder. Tears burst behind her eyes and she held back a whimper
as Cathy stepped over her, feet planted on either side of her hips. Something
sharp pressed on the underside of her chin and she ceased to breathe. Horror
churned in her gut as she stared up at the gleefully malicious features of a
person she once called her friend.

“I have been dreaming of doing this for weeks now,” Cathy
hissed. “Don’t think I won’t slit you like the cunt you are.”

Bridget didn’t even dare to swallow. “What do you want?” she
asked through barely moving lips.

“I want Mitch to suffer. For you to suffer.”

Before she could respond, Cathy gripped her arm and tugged
her upright. “Don’t think to try anything stupid because I have no qualms in
gutting you like a pig. Now get in the chair.”

Standing on weak knees, she walked the few steps required
and dropped into the seat, her thoughts throwing up scenario after scenario of
how to escape. None qualified when a knife pressed into her throat. Cathy stood
at Bridget’s back. “Put your hands behind you.”

Bridget hesitated, then hissed as the knife dug into her
flesh. Warmth seeped down her neck, the burn making her eyes water. Silently,
she did as requested and Cathy worked something around her wrists. It clipped
shut and Bridget recognized the hard edges of cuffs. Finally Cathy stepped
around her and grasped another chair, pulling it forward until it faced
Bridget. She plopped into it and crossed her legs. “Now that’s out of the way,”
she said with a smile, “you can tell me where your cell is.”

“Wh-why?”

Her features stiffened and she pointed the knife at her.
“Don’t question me. Where is your fucking cell?”

Bridget glanced at the side table before she dropped her
gaze. Cathy didn’t miss the move and stood and marched to the living room to
swipe up her cell. She ran her finger over the phone then put it to her ear.

“Hello, lover,” she said.

* * * * *

Max sat beside Bryce, fingering the cotton ball that covered
the needle mark. It was a routine he knew so well, but today more weight
pressed on him at its outcome. Silently he begged it to come back all clear but
he wouldn’t know for a few weeks yet. He had ordered a whole gamut of tests
just to be sure.

Bryce hadn’t opened his eyes since he’d arrived, but his
sleep appeared more natural. As if he’d wake if shaken. Max rubbed his nape and
leaned back in his seat. His phone vibrated and he startled. Slipping it out of
his jeans he checked the caller. Bridget. He stood and exited the room before
he answered, a smile on his lips. “Hi, babe.”

“Hello, lover.”

His heart froze at the sound of
that
voice. His
fingers tightened over his cell, the hair on the back of his neck rose. “What
have you done to her?”

“Do you mean Bridget? Nothing. We’re just hanging out,
comparing notes and all that.”

Rage churned in his gut and he wanted to reach through the
phone and strangle her. “You better not—”

“Better not what? Hurt her? Come on, Mitch, you know me
better than that.”

He didn’t know shit about her. She was off her damn rocker.
His name wasn’t Mitch, but she always insisted on calling him that. He didn’t
know why and what he thought was roleplaying was simply a woman utterly
unhinged. He regretted now more than ever laying eyes on her.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to come here and have a chat. Bridget is full of
wonderful advice. She was the one who suggested we talk it out.”

“Bullshit.”

“Language. You’re talking to a lady.”

“What I’m talking to is a crazy bitch.”

Silence reined and he heard a cry of pain that speared him
through the chest. Katrina’s heavy breathing came through the phone line. “You
want to try that again? Every time you hurt me, I hurt your whore.”

Max swallowed back the insults burning in his throat. “All
right.”

“I expect you home soon. Don’t be long, otherwise I might
have to amuse myself other ways. Oh and don’t think to call the cops. The
minute I see a cop I’ll gut her.”

The line went dead and Max bit back a roar of anger. Panic
surged in black, viscous waves. Katrina had Bridget and he cursed his stupidity
for leaving her alone. He hurried to his car and sped home, every precious
second ticking by. He didn’t want to leave Bridget in the clutches of such an
unstable woman. He wiped a trembling hand across his slick brow. Foot planted
on the accelerator, he cut off cars, veered onto shoulders when a lane wasn’t
moving fast enough.

He turned into his street at sixty miles per hour. Tires
screamed as he pulled to a stop outside his house. Racing to the front door, he
prayed Bridget was okay. He barged into the house and skidded to a stop at the
sight of Katrina and Bridget sitting calmly, facing each other, like girls
having a casual chat. Only Katrina had a knife and Bridget was tied to the
chair, her face pale. Katrina stood and circled until she stood beside Bridget,
the knife causally dipped over Bridget’s chest. Bridget’s eyes were so wide
with fear it sucked the air from his lungs.

“Let her go,” Max snarled.

Katrina pressed her forearm on the top of the chair, waving
the knife at him as if he were some misbehaving child. “
Tut, tut.
I have
the knife here. You wouldn’t want to get me upset.”

Max was swallowed by the bile of terror and scrambled for
calm even as his heart felt as though it was about to leap out of his chest.
“What do you want?”

Katrina’s smile sickened him. “What do I want? When have you
ever cared about what I wanted?”

He licked dry lips and tried to think of something to
placate her. But he came up blank. All he could focus on was the way the light
hit the stainless steel and how close the blade hovered near Bridget. Holding
out a placatory hand, he took one step closer. “I’m here now. I’m listening.”

Katrina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t come any closer.”

He paused, both hands raised. “All right. Why are you here
now?”

“You know why. You
need
me.”

Max inched closer, wanting to keep her talking. “Right.”

A glimmer of hope shone on her face. “Yes. If it wasn’t for
your friend convincing you to take that order against me, we’d be together. But
I taught him not to mess with me.”

Everything in him froze. “What do you mean?”

Katrina rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that hard, the guy is a
druggo, I just slipped him a batch of toxic goods and the rest is history.”

Fury surged and he lunged toward her. “You—”

Bridget screamed as Katrina pressed the knife over her neck.
Max jerked to a stop, his chest heaving. Terror roiled at the sight of blood
sliding down Bridget’s neck. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Don’t
hurt her
? You hurt
me
with that
restraining order.”

Max struggled to think of a way to mollify her. “You’re
right. It was wrong of me. It’s just what was happening was…too intense.”

Tears glazed Katrina’s eyes and she blinked them back.
“That’s how love is supposed to feel. Intense. Dramatic.”

“I didn’t know that. You know I’ve never been with someone
like you before.”

“Of course you didn’t know,” she said with a sickly sweet
voice. “How could you, when all your relationships were just for show? I knew
you needed someone like me. Something deep and meaningful. I knew that about
you, I mean why else would you have chosen a career as a porn actor?”