Hide and Seek (6 page)

Desire buzzed through her, gathering at her center. Clenching the handle of the spoon so tightly her fingers hurt, she stared at him, caught off guard by the instant, intense way she craved him.

“You're pretty damn cute when you talk to yourself.” He flashed her a lopsided, dazzling smile that just about knocked her over. “I was enjoying that.”

Elisa swallowed, working the muscles in her throat, but the knot lodged in her windpipe refused to abate. For the second time, her eyes darted to his cock, thinking of the immense width he'd had pressed against her pussy only a half hour ago. She could have taken him.

Why hadn't she?

Oh, right. Control.

She had to stop this! Get a grip…and not on a spoon!

Elisa lifted her chin high enough that she couldn't look down at his raging erection. “So you were spying on me?”

Maxim cocked a curious eye at her. “What was I supposed to do? Hang out in the bathroom until you called me for dinner?”

“You were supposed to take a shower.”

“I did. I took a cold one.” He gestured to his cock, a hand movement she absolutely refused to follow. “It didn't cool me off, as you can see, so I'm glad you've loosened up some. Where's the wine?”

“I didn't drink any.” Elisa bent and picked up the rest of the scattered lentils. Maxim strode into the kitchen, kneeling next to her and aiding her efforts.

“Well, how about we pop open a bottle over dinner—” His hand paused in midair, palm out, a lentil lying in its center. Frowning, he glanced to her. “Are these cold beans?” His eyes darted to the smoke rising from the stove. “And God, what's that smell?”

“Oh no! The tofu!” Elisa leapt to her feet, knocking the pan off the gas flame with her bare hand. Heat seared her skin and she cried out in pain. “Ouch! Damn it!”

Grabbing a spatula, she quickly scooped the squares onto the kitchen counter. Thankfully, they were only somewhat black, but her hand sported a red, two-inch burn across her palm. She shook away the hurt, cursing under her breath.

Maxim pulled her into his arms and secured her wrist. She knew she should resist, but how could she? She was in pain.

Sorry excuse.

“Let's get that cooled off.” He led her to the sink, holding her palm under a flow of freezing cold water. “Better?”

“Yes,” she whispered, ready for her hand back. “I'm fine. It's not that bad.”

“It's bad enough.” Lifting her injury to his mouth, he kissed directly above the blistering mark, working the sensitized area with his tongue. A million pins pricked her skin as her body ignited hotter, her hungry pussy screaming to be filled and fast.

She should make him stop. Really, really, she should.

But she was in pain.

Maxim kissed up her arm, sending shivers over her skin. His mouth worked its way to her shoulder, then licked across her collarbone, and suckled up her neck, until he had her lower lip in his suction, drawing it between his teeth.

He nibbled at the plumped flesh, delicately biting the perimeter. “You taste like pure heaven,” he murmured, licking her.

Flutters twittered in her belly. Oh no, he didn't! His sentiment set off flares in Elisa, and she pushed him back, breaking the glorious kiss. “Stop, before the rest of the meal is ruined.”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Maxim stepped away, his head bowed. “Determined to keep me at bay, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“You know Elisa, I—” His words fell, his solemn look lifting into a smile. “Never mind. What's to eat?”

“It's a new recipe. There it is, on the counter. Take a look.”

He stared at the food, his eyes wide. “Dinner is burnt tofu and cold beans and salad?”

For the first time in quite a while, Elisa wanted to laugh. “Yup.” The shock written all over his face was worth every penny she wasn't making off her porn career.

“Jesus.” He blinked a few times, then shot her a look that screamed
you're crazy
. “You better have a brand new bottle of French dressing. I'm going to need the whole thing.”

Elisa's smile broadened, but her emotionless voice hid her humor well. Remaining aloof, she spoke matter-of-factly, keeping Maxim at a safe distance. Maybe if she made him uncomfortable enough, he'd want to leave. “I'm sorry. I don't have any dressing. Nor do I have any wine.”

She really didn't either, thanks to her deep appreciation for French dressing and more recently, French wine. What could she say? She'd been under a ton of stress lately.

“What?” A muscle in his cheek twitched. “I think I misheard you, 'cause I thought you said there's no wine.”

“I did.”

“You're telling me I have to eat salad with
no
dressing,
no
wine, and
no
sex afterward?”

“Yes.” Hiding a smile, she met his gaze, daring him to argue with her. “If you don't like it, you're welcome to ski back to Aspen.”

Silence hung heavy around them, thick and loaded with tension. She was playing with fire, dumping an unidentified substance over flames, not sure what the reaction would be, but well aware she could blow them both up. Maxim wasn't used to being tested, of having to work for a female's affection, rather than being slobbered all over by some drunk hussy desperate for his cock.

To her surprise, he flashed a dazzling smile and rubbed his hands together. “Leave? I think not. Your company alone will sustain me.” He reached out, massaging her shoulder. “It's my fault I distracted you from your cooking anyway. Now, what can I help with?”

Elisa stared at him in shock. Maxim might not be used to having to make such an effort, but she certainly wasn't accustomed to having to fight so hard for composure…or to push a guy away. No matter how much she tried to give him a hint, Maxim just kept coming toward her. After all these years, he was just as relentless. Persuasive. Dangerous.

“There's milk in the fridge,” she told him, shirking away from his touch. “Pour us each a glass.”

“Ah, milk. Something I do enjoy.”

She gave him an evil smile. “Oh really? On second thought, I may want to save the milk for when you leave.”

“Don't be mean, Elisa. It doesn't become you.” Swinging open her fridge, he grabbed the gallon container, unscrewed the cap, and drank straight from the jug—
her
jug—with his lushly plump lips. “So, tell me, what have you done since college?”

What did he think he was doing? The nerve of him! He was contaminating her milk! Who knows where his lips had been…

Actually, she knew exactly where his lips had been. And to her knowledge, he hadn't brushed his teeth, either.

Elisa tore her gaze away. So his lips were molded around the spout, exchanging her taste for milk. Watching him guzzle was not sexy. It wasn't. She wouldn't allow it to be.

Refusing to let his childish actions get to her, she retrieved some silverware and plates, motioning for him to get the glasses from the cupboard, then led him to the breakfast nook. “Let's see…what did I do with myself? You mean besides unknowingly become this country's biggest porn star overnight? You want to know about the sex, right? The guys?”

Sitting down at the table, she forked a bite of burnt tofu, and glared at Maxim as he planted his ass in the chair.

“No, actually.” Maxim appeared startled as he situated his weight, looking huge in comparison to the tiny furniture. “I didn't mean that. I wanted to know what
you've
been accomplishing, not your asshole boyfriend.”

Elisa rolled her eyes. When would he finish with this act? His constant bullshit was too much to tolerate. He didn't need to pretend to be interested in her. “Oh, please. Next you'll tell me you give a damn about the environment. Like back in college, remember?”

“College was a long time ago, Elisa.” Staring down at his plate, he spoke quietly. “I've changed.”

She didn't buy it. No way. Maxim just wanted her sympathy. Her fondness. So he could screw her.

She'd prove it. “Really? What have you done since then?”

He shoved his food around, his tongue lolling against the inside of his cheek. “Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” she pressed. “Do you have a real job yet?”

“You know I work for my parents.”

“No, Maxim, do you have a real job?”

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowed with irritation. “You know what, Elisa? I have my reasons for working for my parents and they aren't for you to judge. You're being mean, and I'm exasperated. No, I'm pissed, Elisa, and I give up.”

Score. She'd known he'd never stick to his guns. Prove himself. Well, it was about time. She was tired of battling for composure.

Just like she'd thought, Maxim was the same as he'd always been. This was a game to him,
she
was a game, and currently not fun to play. Hence his surrender.

“Yes, I'm not being nice, and you know Maxim,
I
have my reasons, not for you to judge.”

His lips twisted, flattening. “Yeah. I know exactly why.”

“Oh, no surprise, since you know everything, almighty Max Cox.”

Their gazes locked, hers defying his.

“The walls around your heart are a hundred feet high,” he declared. “You say I'm afraid to live? At least I have fun. You're still as uptight and afraid to live as you were back in school. Maybe worse.”

“Whatever.”

“Seriously. You had me screw you with a dildo. Why won't you just give me a chance to talk to you? Am I really that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Like I said, you're afraid to live. Scared to freaking death you might actually like me, aren't you? That maybe, just maybe, I am a decent guy, and you'd fall in love, and you'd have no reason to be such a…a…”

“A bitch?” Elisa offered. “Maxim, I'm not afraid to live and I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not a slut. Don't you get it? We're far too different!”

“A slut?” His brows rose sky high. “I'm not the one who ended up a porn queen!”

That took her down a peg or two, now didn't it? And lit her fire, straight into a burning inferno of rage.

“You deserve the crown, you
queen
of bullshit and bad lays!” she snapped in retaliation.

The moment she'd uttered the insult, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. She hadn't just called him a slut, but gay and bad in bed, which probably wasn't true.

Silence again fell around them as they glared at each other.

Finally, Maxim slammed down his fork and spoke again, his words a low growl, emitted from between ground teeth. “You know, maybe if you'd let loose a little, have some fun—”

“Be more like you? You mean I should sleep with everyone to cross my path? Throw away my future for parties and booze and babes?” Elisa drew in a deep breath, at her wit's end. “I'm sorry, Maxim. That was immature of me to—”

“I'll be all too happy to get out of here!” He leapt to his feet, knocking over the chair. “Don't bother to pack me a doggie bag, not that any animal would touch that crap!”

H
e'd
stolen her jogging pants.

Maxim's thievery didn't elude him. Actually, he couldn't stop thinking that he should return the too-tight sweats and put his wet jeans back on. But he wasn't going back to her cabin. Not that he'd made it far—he currently stood between his two pine trees, pathetically unable to even stand on his skis in the knee-deep snow. But he'd rather freeze to death than ask Elisa for any favors.

After her final insulting comment, he'd gathered his coat and pathetic wet gear, and escaped from her house with a hot temper, bruised pride, and her pants…which she really wasn't getting back.

Guilt tugged at his heart, reminding him that they weren't his to keep. Telling him to go back inside and return them.

Crap. What was wrong with him? They were just Fruit of the Loom. Nothing special.

Maxim groaned and hoisted his body upward, finally on his feet
and
in his skis. “Fabulous!” he muttered to himself, gripping the poles. Now he could get out of here. He'd had enough of the cold and enough of Elisa's cold heart.

Again, his chest tightened, reminding him of the jogging pants he was stealing. Of the way she'd panted—
heated
—underneath him as he'd screwed her with the dildo. The way she'd come.

And then the way she'd laid into him over that pathetic, tofuexcuse for a meal.

Stupid guilt over the damn sweats or not, he was getting out of here. Gingerly, he slid one step, then another. He gave up on Elisa. Threw in the towel. He didn't want her
this
bad.

Liar!

Well, clearly she didn't want him. Or she'd be acting more…more…female. Nice. Human.

She asked you to pleasure her, asked you to prove yourself.

Suddenly, he lurched, his feet quickly sinking into the snow and making him tumble forward. Landing face-first in the icy white blanket covering the earth, Maxim hollered, his outburst muffled, his legs tangled. Pummeling the snow, he let Mother Earth know damn good and well how he felt about her right now. This wasn't fair!

He twisted and turned and fought to straighten out his legs without taking off the skis that kept locking together, making his life impossible. But he couldn't. He was all tied up in knots. Stuck.

Falling backward, Maxim melted into the snow. What the hell was he doing? The snow buffeting his body instantly cooled his anger, reminding him why he'd stayed. Why had Elisa behaved the way she did? She was clearly scared. Trying to push him away.

And not only had he let her, he'd stolen her pants. He'd acted like a jerk…not a smart way to gain her trust and confidence.

He couldn't leave yet, because he didn't want to.

He really didn't care about the sex. He wanted to pleasure Elisa again, to convince her to give him a chance, if anything, to get her to
like
him. It couldn't really be that difficult, now could it? Certainly not as impossible as skiing back to town, then immediately back again, once he'd realized all too late the huge mistake he'd made, which he would.

Maxim rolled his head in the cold cushioning beneath him and closed his eyes, releasing a pent-up breath. Suddenly, his chest felt less constricted, his heart, lighter.

To his surprise, his legs easily untangled and he hefted himself up. Then, to his shock, he skied quite successfully up to her cabin, prepared to prove himself all over again.

C
urled
in front of the stone fireplace, Elisa hugged a steaming cup of hot cocoa in her grasp, staring at the licking flames. A blanket warmed her legs, but not her soul. She felt like a shell of a woman—one who'd just screwed up. Big time.

She kept telling herself she was doing the right thing, but every fiber of her being begged to differ. Her conscience told her she'd behaved badly. Her heart cried to have Maxim return. Her body, well, her body had some pretty lustful demands she could never fulfill on her own.

She needed Maxim, needed him for so many petty little reasons it was ridiculous, and yet the last thing she wanted was to
need
any man.

One thing was for certain—he'd been right: she was putting up walls, huge, stone defenses around herself. She was afraid of him…of losing herself to another player. Her physical desire wasn't the only thing she had to learn to control. If she couldn't manage her emotions, she'd always be an ant underneath some big man's boot. She—

The front door creaked open, then clicked quietly shut. Surprised, Elisa straightened. “Maxim?” she called, unable to imagine it was anyone else and hoping it wasn't…for a myriad of reasons.

“The one and only.” His heavy ski boots clanked on the hardwood floors as he strode into the great room, looking cold and wet from head to toe. Icicles hung from his shaggy golden hair and clung to his stubble. “I sincerely hope you weren't expecting some other man.”

“I thought you left.” She smiled, actually appreciating the shivering sight of him as she clutched her cocoa nervously. “What's the matter? Couldn't make it back to Aspen?”

For a moment, he just stared at her, something haunting about his brown eyes. Sad.

She studied the truth evident on his face. Never before had she realized how fathomless his gaze was…the secrets it hid. The more he was around, looking at her with those deep eyes, the more she second guessed her assessment of him. Maybe he wasn't just some shallow male whore. Maybe he wasn't lazy and self-centered. Maybe he was troubled.

He shifted. “I realized I'd stolen your sweats. Thought I should return them.” His tongue darted out and ran along his upper lip. “You know…”

Stolen jogging pants were a stupid reason to come back. He knew that, she knew that, but what she didn't get was the unspoken meaning behind his blithe words.
Why
was he here? Now? In the first place? She just didn't get him.

Elisa reminded herself to keep her distance…but nicely this time.

“Oh, well, thank you, I suppose.” She raised her chin, looking him square in the face. She couldn't mince words or play games with Maxim, not now. She had to set him straight or this would never work. Things between them were too volatile. “I assume, if you're coming back, that you realize the rules have not changed.”

“Of course.” His smile was glassy. “Would you have me pleasure you again?”

Elisa swallowed. Oh, but she was playing a dangerous game with her own self, as well as Maxim.

Setting the mug aside, she firmed her tone, as well as her muscles, refusing to become Play-Doh in his hands. She'd take what she wanted, but she wouldn't be jerked by any man. “Maxim, clearly I'm not one of your easy girls. So don't walk back in here deluding yourself.”

“You're not easy, Elisa. Precisely why I am here.” He unzipped his coat, yanking it off.

Underneath, he wore no shirt and his skin was blistering red. The fool. If he kept freezing himself, soon he'd be sicker than a dog.

Her gaze wandered over his built pectoral muscles to his well-defined abdomen. Excitement flared in her loins.

“There's hot cocoa in the kitchen if you'd like,” she suggested. “You should get out of those wet clothes. Get warmed up.”

“Thanks.” He disappeared from the room. A few minutes later, he returned in dry clothes, steaming mug in hand. He sat next to her, so that his cold body brushed her warm one in sharp contrast. “Why do we fight?”

She shivered at the truth. “It's easier than getting along, I suppose.”

“Why is that?”

I want you, unreasonably.

Elisa shrugged. “We're so different.”

“Are we?”

She didn't answer his question. She couldn't continue this conversation, not honestly. After a few moments of silence, she said, “I've never had a serious relationship. Derrick…I don't know. I really liked him, I did, but it wasn't love.”

“Good thing,” he grunted. “Let's just say I hope for his sake we never meet.”

“I hope you do. Have at him.” She chuckled. “What about you? Any girls manage to pin you down for more than a date?”

“No one's ever held my interest.” He sat his mug on the floor in front of him and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing. “No one but you.”

She looked up at him, smiling. “I'm flattered.”

Maxim winked at her, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. “You should be.”

Suddenly, she wanted him to prove himself. Wanted to get past the hard part so she could believe him. Trust him.

Make love to him.

“Undress then and I'll be back.” Elisa stood and walked down the hall to her room. Kneeling, she pulled a Rubbermaid container out from under her bed and popped open the lid, revealing sex toys galore.

Her fingers rimmed the edge, her mind still focused on Maxim's bare chest. His body.

She didn't just want any old dildo this time. She needed one so rock-your-world fantastic, she'd be satisfied—completely—with it. Not yearning for Max Cox.

But which one?

The choice wasn't easy, weighed down by the reality that she'd have to present whatever she chose to him. No matter how strong she made herself, no matter how much she wanted this, she couldn't stop feeling self-conscious.

Stalling, Elisa slowly sifted through the box of sexual goodies. What would Lizzy think if she knew Elisa was letting a man operate her toys? Would she be all for it? Or against it?

Likely the latter. Letting Maxim touch her was too risky. But no matter how hard she tried, Elisa couldn't be like Lizzy. She couldn't simply turn her back on men and never think twice about sex. So for her, learning to deal with them in a hardcore way was the next best thing.

Elisa retrieved a rather large, but floppy, imitation cock. Nah. She wanted something firmer. “Firm as Maxim's cock,” she whispered under her breath.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

Her heart kicked in her chest as she jerked around to find a very naked, very erect, Maxim watching her. “You've really got to stop doing that.”

He granted her another one of his dubious, meant-to-charm smiles. “Why don't you let me chose, if I'm going to be the one conducting?”

Forget butterflies. Her stomach was being attacked by killer wasps, buzzing all around her insides, making her feel nauseous.

“Because…” Elisa hesitated. She couldn't really think of a good reason
why
, except that, somehow, letting him have control of which toy he'd be inserting in her was too intimate, too personal, which was probably ludicrous, given she was about to let him pleasure her.

She picked up a very plain, very straight, flesh-colored vibrator. “This one will do.”

“Do? Not even close.” Dropping to his knees next to her, Maxim claimed her hand, sending shivers down her spine. He peeled open her fingers, forcing her to drop the bland toy. “Come now, Elisa. If you won't play fair, you could at least share.”

She swallowed deeply. Despite the protests raging in her mind, she couldn't seem to form a legitimate response. All she could think of was the biggest sex toy in the room—Maxim. Of making good use of him.

After closely examining his choices, Maxim selected the biggest, most complicated vibrator from her stash. Brilliant blue and waterproof, the head of the fake cock was curved like the head of a spoon, so it could easily reach, and press into, a woman's G-spot. It came complete with a clit stimulator, which was decorated with little bumps to provide stimulation.

Elisa gulped. She was so in over her head, drowning—hell, ready to swallow all the water in the world—if only he'd just shove the damn vibrator in her without preamble. She'd turned that specific one on once before, just out of curiosity, so she knew it had three functions—pulse, twist, and jack rabbit.

She blew out a nervous breath, reminding herself the best dildo and a mind-blowing orgasm was what she wanted anyway. “Looks great. That'll do.” Her agreement came out pathetically shaky, reminding her of the man trap she was falling for already. Maxim might be good, but she was better…and in charge.

Lifting her chin, she commanded herself to be strong. Her wavering was allowing Maxim to control the game and that wouldn't do. He was at
her
mercy. Their gazes met, uniting in acute understanding.

She stood, her every nerve alive with need. The thrill of once again being the queen—of her body and his actions—electrified her from head to toe, her libido responding in earnest. Her clit pulsed for his touch and her pussy hungered to be filled, lining with liquid passion.