we are...friends. Tomorrow we are co-workers. I can cope with that if you can. Seriously. Cross my heart.’
Her fingers tiptoed down his shirt buttons and she drew a cross over his heart. When she peered up at him through thick black eyelashes' he caught the flash of desire in her eyes. ‘Now you are severely dropping in my ratings. If you want to get back up to at least a seven, you’ve got a bit of work to do.’
‘Seven? How did that happen?’
She wiggled her hips against his thigh. ‘You, Mr Maitland, are all talk and no action.’
‘You want action? Right.’ Max walked her across the deserted street and into his apartment block. Crazy stuff. He never offered his place. One of his rules, and he had a few—no staying the night. No promises of anything. Anything. No sharing his private cave. That was way too personal—and he didn’t do intimacy on any level, not if he could help it. But his apartment was close by. And what they needed right now was hot and quick. He punched ‘P’ and the lift jolted.
‘You live in the penthouse? Wow.’
‘Sure. You have a problem with heights?’ He couldn’t resist the smile. It had taken a lot of damned hard work to earn enough to get this place—but it had been worth every hour and every cent just to see the look on his uncle’s face. ‘We could go back to the ground floor. I own an apartment there too—but it’s rented out at the moment—could be a bit crowded.’
‘Now you’re just showing off.’
‘Oh, believe me, I haven’t even started.’ He nibbled her ear and watched her squirm with delight further into his arms. Her scent coated everything—her hair, her skin—his skin. And it fired a zillion nerve endings in his groin.
He swiped his card and opened the apartment door, activating the lights.
He couldn’t help the smile when Gabby gasped. Whether it was at the one-eighty-degree view of Auckland’s glittering night skyline or his kisses on the back of her neck he didn’t know. Either way, with her sharp intake of breath he was all turned on as hell. He took her hand and led her into his space.
‘Wow! Look! The lights. You didn’t even touch a switch.’
He laughed. ‘There was me thinking my kisses made you gasp.’
‘You really do have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?’ But she traced a finger down his cheek and over his lips. ‘Do it again.’
He waved a hand and the room plunged into darkness again. ‘Like that?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Palms worked their way down to his chest.
Then the lights came on again.
Then off.
Then on.
She grinned as he caught her, her arm in mid-air. ‘Oops. In the real world we have flicky switch things. So last century. This is very cool.’
As the room plunged into darkness again he found her mouth, the pressure of her fingers on his back stoking the fire in his belly. He guided her to the couch, raking his hands through those thick curls he’d been aching to touch all evening.
With every stroke of his tongue she moaned with pleasure, sending him dangerously closer to the edge. He undid the buttons on her blouse, slid his hand under her bra, felt the delicious contraction of her nipples against his palm.
He struggled with an intense need to take her. Here. Now. But he sensed he needed to take it more slowly with her. Wanted to take it more slowly. They only had a few hours before morning and he felt as if time was running out already. If he hurried, the magic would be lost too soon.
When he pulled away slightly he watched her face transform from beguiling to bewitched as she gazed across the room to the city view.
‘This place is freakin’ huge! Incredible! Look at all those lights, the harbour. I can see a cruise ship down there in dock. It’s magical.’ Then she glanced around the moonlit room, her delight evident, like a kid in a sweet shop. ‘The glass...so much glass...must cost a fortune in window cleaning.’ She laughed, ran her hand along the top of the couch. ‘And all these white fixtures, the blonde wood...but no knick-knacks? Pictures? Photos?’
‘No.’ He wouldn’t explain.
‘What about Jamie? Your family? You must have photos of them.’
‘I don’t like clutter.’ He’d managed to live like that for a long time. No mess—physical or emotional. ‘I keep things simple.’
‘I see. Noted.’ She paused and seemed to take that in. Then she nodded, understanding his hint