Rapture & Ruin by Julia Sykes
Chapter 16
Allie
My hands were still shaking when I sat down on one of the cushy black leather barstools at Pairings. The host recognized me as a regular, and he’d made sure to seat me at one of my favorite high-top tables near the window. I rubbed my palms over my chilled arms. Right now, I would’ve preferred a table tucked into a safe corner, where I wouldn’t have to worry about being watched or followed.
I was worried about Gavin, my bully and now my assailant. The twinge in my hip as I sat served as an awful reminder of his cruel, possessive grip. I shuddered and hugged my arms more tightly around myself.
“He’s gone. He won’t touch you again.” Max’s voice was a low growl.
My eyes snapped to his. Despite the rough anger in his tone, his gaze was tight with concern for me. Only one of his dark eyes was fully visible, the other once again concealed by his carefully tousled hair. He’d hidden his scar and tucked away his terrible, enraged mask.
I wouldn’t have been scared even if he’d been snarling at me. I was completely safe with Max.
“Thank you,” I murmured, finally releasing my aching chest from my own protective embrace.
I reached out and placed my hand over his where it was fisted on the tabletop. Crimson lines had settled into the creases around his knuckles, Gavin’s blood clinging to him even after he’d wiped most of it off on his black shirt. When I touched the lingering traces of the violent scene, his jaw firmed, and his fingers flexed. For a moment, I thought he’d pull away.
Then, he blew out a breath and relaxed. He turned his hand and pressed his palm to mine, interlacing our fingers. I felt shockingly small in his grasp, every bit as delicate as he’d said. I’d definitely felt weak when Gavin had me pinned against my front door. Max was even taller and broader than my bully, but his imposing size didn’t elicit so much as a tremor of fear. Instead, that strange, honeyed warmth pooled low in my belly, the same unfamiliar sensation that’d overcome me when he’d held me in place for his savage kiss.
My face heated, and his eyes flicked to my pink cheeks. His dark gaze picked each of my features apart once again, focusing on me with an intensity that I’d never experienced before. It made something decidedly feminine quiver inside me. The masculine attention was both gratifying and slightly unnerving. I resisted the urge to shift in my seat to alleviate the odd tingling that’d crept up my thighs.
“You really aren’t scared of me.” He said it like an impossibility, something that completely defied reality.
My mouth curved in a small smile. “You’re finally listening to me, huh? No, I’m not scared of you, Max. And don’t tell me I should be.” I spoke before he could get the words out. “You can’t tell me what to think or feel, so don’t waste your breath.”
“Stubborn,” he muttered, a ghost of an accusation.
“So are you,” I countered coolly.
His lips quirked. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. You seem to love arguing with me.”
I scoffed. “Only because you say ridiculous things.”
He laughed, a strangely raspy sound, as though his vocal cords weren’t used to it. His mouth tilted in a crooked grin, and his eyes sparkled. My breath caught in my throat. Max was beautiful. I’d seen glimpses of it before, but his smile was stunning enough to knock me square in the chest.
Before I could snap my slack jaw closed, our server appeared. “Pinot noir and a charcuterie, Allie?” he asked, recognizing me.
I nodded in rote agreement, unable to tear my eyes from Max’s handsome face. His features firmed to something stern, but not scary. The slight press of his full lips and warning slant of his dark brow made my stomach do a funny flip.
“And a water,” he said firmly, adding to my order. His gaze flicked to our server. “I’ll have the same as her.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled in the man’s direction as he hurried off to the bar. I couldn’t seem to look away from Max. I’d only ever seen him in shadow, where darkness pooled beneath the sharp lines of his face. There was nothing frightening about his appearance now. The warm lighting in the intimate, wood-paneled bar illuminated his golden skin and danced over his obsidian eyes. He looked like a fallen angel.
Suddenly, looking directly at him was almost unbearable. Flames licked my veins, and my skin flushed hot enough to make me blush from my ears all the way down to my chest.
“I think your freckles are cute,” he said abruptly, his voice a deep rumble.
My eyes snapped to his, and my brain scrambled to catch up. “What?”
“Before. When I called you Freckles.” I flinched at the nickname, and he frowned. “I said it because I think they’re cute. I didn’t know it was upsetting for you.”
I pressed my lips together, holding in the retort that being tied up in his basement had been upsetting. Caustic words would make him retreat behind that angry mask that obscured his pain, and I didn’t want to lose him. Despite how we’d met, I craved more time with my dark protector, the damaged man who defended me so fiercely.
The man who’d kissed me with such passion that my lips still tingled with the memory of his mouth on mine.
Was that why he’d been outside my place tonight, close enough to protect me from Gavin’s sick advances? An insane part of me had craved to see him again, to find him waiting for me on my front porch. Did he feel the same way about our kiss? Hot and confused and greedy for more?
“Why were you outside my place tonight?” I asked, peeking up at him through my lashes. I was suddenly anxious for his answer, and my insides coiled tight in the few seconds it took him to respond.
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he finally admitted, his voice an intimate rumble that rolled through my body like deep thunder in a warm summer storm.
“I was thinking about you too.” Was that my breathy whisper? He leaned into me, and I swayed toward him. The table separated us, but I could feel his body heat pulsing against mine.
I jolted when the server clicked down our wine glasses. Embarrassment seared my cheeks. I’d totally forgotten we were in public.
Before I could pull away, Max’s hand tightened on mine, holding me captive. His strong fingers were iron bands, holding me in a careful but unbreakable cage. I relaxed in his grip. I didn’t want him to let me go.
The server set down a huge wooden platter featuring a mouthwatering spread of my favorite cured meats and aged cheeses. My stomach rumbled with a painful ache, reminding me of my intense hunger. Keeping one hand in Max’s, I reached out and plucked up a slice of Iberico ham to alleviate my sudden ravenousness. I moaned at the rich, decadent flavor. God, my fancy comfort food had never tasted so good.
Max’s nostrils flared, and his eyes sparked, keen on every nuance of my rapturous expression.
I squirmed beneath his scrutiny, a little embarrassed at my enthusiastic response. I would’ve made that little sound of delight in front of my friends, but Max was looking at me like I’d just moaned into his mouth while he was kissing me. The memory of the wanton, animal sounds we’d made as we exchanged ragged breaths played through my mind, and that molten honey sensation slid down my spine.
I was too hot and weirdly tingly. I took a gulp of my wine to calm my jittery nerves.
“Water,” Max said, that stern, masculine tone stoking the heat inside me. “You need to hydrate, not get drunk.”
“I won’t get drunk,” I replied defensively. Was I pouting? I hastily reached for my water and gulped that instead.
“Good.” His deep, satisfied tone caressed my skin like an intimate touch. The achy pulse between my legs that I’d experienced for the first time when he’d kissed me started to thrum once again.
I drank more water to cool down. It didn’t help.
“Don’t you want to eat some?” My voice was strangely high pitched as I gestured at the spread, trying to distract myself with some normal conversation.
He tipped his head at the platter. “You finish what you want first. This isn’t exactly a meal.” A small frown creased his brow.
“And what would you prefer?” I countered, still slightly defensive. Max had me totally off balance.
“I’d prefer if you ate something more substantial. You’re rattled after what that asshole tried to do to you.” His frown twisted into his most fearsome scowl.
I squeezed his hand, drawn to comfort him rather than fear him. “Thank you for pulling him off me. I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”
Max’s scowl remained fixed in place, but it wasn’t directed at me. “If I’d realized he was a threat to you, I would’ve punched him sooner. I thought you might be together when he first showed up. Then you shouted at him to let you go.” His eyes flashed. “I never should’ve let him touch you.”
His gaze remained dark and distant, and his hold on my hand shifted so that his fingertips brushed over my wrist. I followed the direction of his glower and saw that my skin was red where Gavin had grabbed me. Max traced the tender spot, the light rasp of his callouses making my flesh tingle.
“How do you know that bastard?” he growled.
“I’ve known Gavin since high school,” I replied with a sigh, spilling out my pain without hesitation. I didn’t experience even a flicker of worry that Max would use the knowledge of my vulnerability against me. “He was a bully then, and he’s a bully now. We work at the same internship, and I have to see him almost every day. We had a networking event tonight, and I guess he got his cab to follow mine home.” The tingling sensation on my wrist intensified, making me hyperaware of Max’s touch. “He’s never done anything like that before.”
Max’s jaw ticked, but his fingers remained gentle on my skin. “I’m sorry I called you Freckles,” he said tightly. “I heard that fucker call you that. I’m not a bully, and I didn’t say it to be cruel.”
“I know.” My skin pebbled, and I wasn’t sure if it was in response to his intimate touch or because we were both remembering that awful night in his basement. I’d called Max a bully then. He seemed to have made the connection to Gavin’s history of cruelty.
“Eat,” he prompted.
Obediently, I popped a slice of aged Manchego cheese into my mouth. The buttery, nutty flavor had never tasted so decadent. I really was hungry, and all of my senses were oddly heightened. I wasn’t sure if it was a result of the adrenaline dump or because everything seemed to sparkle when Max was touching me.
“You should try some,” I urged, struck with the desire to share something I loved with him. I wanted to see him smile again. “It’s really good.”
He eyed the spread dubiously. “I’ll pass.”
“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s delicious and decadent, and it makes you feel fancy. I love a charcuterie.”
His lips twitched with amusement. “What if I don’t like being fancy? What if I want a cheeseburger and dirty fries?”
“Then you should’ve suggested a diner,” I said flippantly.
“Next time.” He said it like a warning, but I thrilled at the dark promise.
Next time? He wanted to do this again? Wait, were we on a date right now?
I watched him sample some Roquefort, grimace, and take a gulp of pinot to wash away the blue cheese flavor. A giggle bubbled from my chest. He set the wine glass down, his full attention fixing on me in that way that made my belly quiver.
“This tastes awful, Bambi.”
I rolled my eyes and selected a Marcona almond before nudging the salty snack in his direction. “You’ve barely tried it. Just avoid the blue cheese. And don’t call me Bambi.”
He shot me a crooked smile, and I forgot how to breathe. “But you get all flushed and cute when I call you Bambi. You don’t really mind it, do you?” He brushed his calloused fingertips over the sensitive skin at the inside of my wrist, feeling my pulse speed up in response to his teasing.
My cheeks flamed, and his grin turned dazzling.
“Eat your almonds,” I muttered, hot and flustered.
He laughed, and it didn’t sound so raspy this time. He sampled an almond, grunted in approval, and ate another.
“See?” I said, a silly grin stretching my lips. “You should try more. Trust me.”
He gave me a sardonic nod. “Okay, Bambi. I trust you.”
He started picking at different options on the platter, less hesitant with each bite. I began explaining what each item was and where it originated. He listened with rapt attention, as though my inane babbling about my favorite food was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard. By the time the spread had almost disappeared and our wine glasses were empty, I felt pleasantly warm, and a light buzz tingled over my head.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his massive body fully relaxed and his sharp features content in a way I never would’ve imagined even an hour ago. He hadn’t once let go of my hand since we’d arrived at the bar.
“Yes, much better. Thank you.” I gave his fingers a little squeeze to convey my gratitude. He’d helped me relax too. After that awful ordeal with Gavin, he’d managed to put me completely at ease.
He squeezed back. “Let’s get you home.”
We asked for the check, and he insisted on paying. Was this really a date? It felt like a date.
But he hadn’t asked me out. In fact, he’d kind of commanded me to go and eat something, and he’d informed me that he would be joining me. That didn’t exactly sound like a date.
He tucked me under his arm as he walked me home, and I nestled into his warmth. He smelled like leather and man. The tingling in my head zinged along my veins, spreading all the way to my fingers and toes.
We reached my front door, and he started to pull away. I turned into him, unwilling to let him go. My lips felt swollen and achy from his ferocious kiss, and I wanted more.
Moving with a swiftness that shocked us both, I twined my arms around his muscular shoulders and pushed up onto my toes. He met me halfway, and our mouths collided in a rush of heat and raw need. I didn’t challenge him this time. I didn’t want to clash my will against his. My head tipped back, welcoming him to claim me.
His low groan rumbled over my tongue and down into my core. That aching throb between my legs tempted and tormented me, and I molded my body to his.
He took a step toward me, backing me up until I bumped into the door. His massive body surrounded me, pinning me in place for his devastating kiss. His big hand wrapped around my hip, branding my flesh with masculine heat. The slight twinge of pain beneath his grip reminded me that this was exactly where Gavin had grabbed me.
I whimpered into his mouth, and his lips softened, coaxing me to relax. He handled me gently, careful not to bruise, but he resolutely held my hip exactly where my bully had hurt me. There was something possessive and utterly primal about his touch, and the heat of his hand burned away the lingering taint left by Gavin’s groping fingers.
I melted against him, inviting him to deepen our kiss. His mouth firmed on mine, claiming me with renewed ferocity in response to my surrender. The wild hunger we shared overwhelmed us both, and my hands shaped around his bulging muscles as he pressed closer, pinning me in place for his demanding kiss.
Finally, he pulled back just enough to allow us both to gasp for air. He kept one hand firmly on my hip, maintaining his possessive but gentle grip. His other forearm braced against my front door beside my head, caging me in as we exchanged ragged breaths. Unlike our last kiss, he didn’t rest his forehead on mine. This close, I could see that every fine line around his left eye was drawn with strain, as though he was holding himself back.
I didn’t care about his scar touching my brow, but it seemed he wasn’t ready for that kind of contact. It was somehow more intimate than his mouth on mine. The inch of space between our faces was suddenly a solid barrier, a wall that protected his worst vulnerability.
I wanted to show him that his scar didn’t matter to me. I’d been bullied for my appearance for most of my life, and I’d watched his awful sister inflict cruel emotional wounds while Max remained silent, allowing her to lash him. All I cared about was the feel of his sensual lips caressing mine, his intoxicating scent, and his protective instincts. I’d never burned this hot for any man, and I wanted more.
I went up on my toes, seeking another kiss. His hand left my tender hip to grasp my waist, pushing me back against the door. He kept that invisible barrier between us, but he swayed toward me even as he denied us both.
“If we don’t stop now, I’ll do something you might regret.” His warning rumbled over my sensitized lips.
“I don’t regret kissing you.” My voice was breathy and sultry in a way that was entirely unfamiliar to me. I tried to close the distance between us again, but he pinned me firmly in place, restraining me with an unbreakable hold.
“Allie…” He groaned my name, as though it caused him physical pain to hold himself back. “I want you. I want you so fucking bad. You don’t know what you do to me.”
His square jaw was tight, his sharp features drawn with feral hunger.
“Then kiss me again,” I whispered. The pulsing between my legs intensified, tugging me toward him.
He refused to close the distance between us, even though his eyes sparked with something like pain. “If I kiss you again, I won’t stop. I’ll push you up against this door and explore every inch of your hot little body. I won’t give a fuck who can see us. If you don’t want witnesses when I claim you, we’ll have to take this inside.”
For a moment, the memory of his hands restraining me in a different way flashed across my mind: he’d clamped his big hand over my mouth, pinned me to the wall in my foyer, and slid a needle into my neck.
I stiffened in his arms, and his mouth twisted in a grimace, as though he tasted something rotten.
“That’s what I thought,” he said bitterly.
Abruptly, he stepped back. Cool air slapped my skin where his warm body had touched mine. A soft gasp left my lips, my chest tightening. Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist.
“Wait.” My voice took on a ragged, pleading edge. I couldn’t bear his pain, his distance. I wanted him to lose himself in me, just like I lost myself in him whenever he was near.
He went utterly still, his chin lifted in a challenging sneer. But he didn’t pull his hand free from my desperate grip.
“This was a mistake.” He bit out each word. “I won’t bother you again.”
“No!” I refused, my fingers tightening around his wrist.
His brow drew low over his left eye, the scarred side of his face completely obscured in the shadow of his dark curls. “You want me to keep stalking you?” He delivered a derisive challenge, his lips still twisted in that cruel sneer.
I’d hit a nerve, and he was pushing me away to protect himself. I wondered if he’d let anyone this close to him since his accident. His sister had taunted that I’d been the first person to date him. How long had he been bereft of touch? Of affection?
My heart squeezed. I wasn’t ready to let him inside my home. I wouldn’t be able to smother my lingering trauma from that horrific night, and it would sour our connection. Whatever wild, hungry thing we shared was new and fragile, and I liked it too much to see it destroyed.
I didn’t want to see him destroyed. And the reflexive physical signs of my remembered terror shredded him.
I am a monster out of your worst nightmares. He hadn’t behaved monstrously since that night. I suspected his desperate actions went against his true nature. And the reminder of the awful thing he’d done to me made him slip behind that frightening mask, another barrier between us.
I wouldn’t let him do it. He’d protected me, even when I protested. When I was with him, I didn’t have to pretend to be strong all the time. I didn’t have to fight through my anxiety to prove to people that I was capable and independent. Max had seen me at my most vulnerable after Gavin’s attack, and he hadn’t judged me for being weak and shaken. He’d insisted on helping me calm down. He’d helped me reclaim my own strength by supporting me through the worst of the traumatic experience.
I wanted for him to be vulnerable with me, too. I was safe with Max, but he was safe with me. He had to know that.
“No, I don’t want you to stalk me,” I replied, keeping my tone low and calm. “I want to give you my number.”
His jaw ticked. “That’s a bad idea, Bambi.”
Oh. We were back to nicknames now.
Well, I wouldn’t let him put that kind of distance between us. I no longer hated being called Bambi, but this moment was too important to allow him to retreat from me. If I let him walk away now, I might never see him again. He would bury himself in his rage. He would keep pursuing his vendetta against my father, and he’d probably end up in prison, further suffering for a family that’d deceived him.
Love his hard, but blood is everything. His haunting declaration ghosted through my mind.
Love shouldn’t be hard, and Max didn’t deserve any more pain than he’d already endured.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do and how to feel, remember?” I reminded him gently. “I want to see you again.”
“You really are crazy.” I suspected that the words were meant as a blow, but the longing that roughened his tone betrayed the depth of his desire.
My free hand twitched toward him, drawn to comfort him. But I sensed that he’d back away farther if I dared to make tender contact. He was feeling too vulnerable, and his default was to bury any signs of perceived weakness, hiding them even from himself.
I fixed him with a level stare instead and held out my hand between us, palm-up. “Give me your phone.”
He remained motionless for a long moment, glowering down at me. I didn’t flinch or cower. I simply waited for him to surrender.
You don’t scare me.
“Max,” I prompted.
His name on my lips seemed to be a trigger for him, and he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone even as he continued to scowl at me.
I lifted my brows and waited, expectant.
Nope. Still not scared.
He blew out a long sigh and typed in his passcode, unlocking the phone before handing it to me. I accepted it and quickly entered my contact details before he could change his mind and snatch it back. I fired off a text to myself so that I’d have his number, too.
“There,” I said, satisfied. I returned his phone. “Now you don’t have to stalk me anymore.”
“I have been stalking you. It’s not a joke.” He said it like a dark reminder, as though I’d somehow forgotten his madness and the terrible way we’d first met.
“You also saved me from getting hit by a car and protected me from Gavin,” I countered. “I’d prefer to be able to ask you to meet up than to find you lurking in the shadows.” My lips twitched, teasing.
“That’s not funny,” he half-growled, still trying to scare me off.
I lifted my chin and met him head-on. “I want to see you again,” I said firmly. “I’ll text you.”
He shook his head at me. “You shouldn’t.”
“That’s really annoying, you know,” I informed him flippantly. “Stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.”
His mouth quirked at the corners, as though he was suppressing a smile of his own. “I think you’re infuriating, too.”
I rolled my eyes at him. White flames danced over his dark, intent gaze. They licked my skin, and my body began to tingle with the memory of his wicked kiss. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, craving more. His eyes riveted to my mouth, and he swayed toward me for an instant before his massive frame hardened to granite once again.
“Go inside, Allie.” His desire-roughened voice caressed my name, even as he commanded me to leave him.
Moving too quickly for him to stop me, I bounced up onto my toes and brushed a kiss over his cheek. “Goodnight, Max.”
A small shudder rolled through him as his bulky muscles flexed, but he restrained himself from crushing me to him for another scorching kiss.
I hesitated for a moment, tempted to test his resolve. I wanted this strong man to come undone beneath my tender hands. The idea made desire pulse deep inside me, and it took effort to force myself to back away.
I still wasn’t ready to let him inside, no matter how badly I wanted him. I couldn’t bear to taint our connection with echoes of the fear I’d experienced on the night he’d kidnapped me.
Instead of twining my arms around his neck and pulling him close, I turned to unlock my door. He waited in silence, his full focus intent on me as he watched me enter my apartment, guarding me from anyone who might threaten me.
Once I crossed the threshold, I offered Max one final, grateful smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
It was a firm promise. I wouldn’t allow him to retreat from me. I wouldn’t allow him to sever the intense, wild connection we shared. And judging by the feral hunger that gleamed in his dark eyes as I shut the door, he wouldn’t be able to resist my demands to see him again.
Max burned for me just as hotly as I burned for him.