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Thursday Nights(8)

By:Lisa N. Paul



“What?” The startled response that eked out of her mouth was almost unrecognizable.

A sexy chuckle escaped the throat of the man whose warmth was radiating into Lyla’s skin. She attempted to turn around, curious to see the face that was attached to that voice, but a large hand at the base of her neck stayed her movement. As his thumb gently stroked her neck a whisker-roughened cheek murmured in her ear. “No reason to turn around, sweetheart. You know who I am. And everything else you need to know you can feel pulsing through your body right now. Enjoy your drink. I’ll see you soon.”

The cool air seeped into her body as the warmth of his hand left her skin. By the time Lyla got up the courage to turn around, all she got was a glimpse of a firm ass covered in perfectly worn jeans, a tight, white T-shirt that hugged a broad back, and inky-black hair that hung just below the neck of said T-shirt.

“What the fuck just happened? Who the hell was that?” Lyla gasped as Ashley, the bartender who stepped in for Max when he left, just smiled. “Ashley, Goddamn it! Seriously, did you see him?”

Ashley looked at her with a grin. “That’s Max’s friend. You’ve probably seen him here before.” She put a glass of ice water in front of Lyla, gestured to her cheeks, and gave a devilish smile. “You look like you could use this.”



“So, your place or mine?” Janie asked nervously as they left the parking lot. The butterflies in her stomach were starting a revolution as she took in the sexy profile of the man sitting to her left with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh. Was she really doing this? Not to mention, doing it with Max DeLucca?

Removing his hand from her leg, Max placed both hands on the steering wheel of his black Ferrari Spider. Janie held in the whimper that threatened to escape from the loss of his touch.

Max pulled over to the side of the road, and she felt the butterflies once again trying to take flight. Why was he stopping? Had he changed his mind?

“Janie,” he said, his voice strong but calm. “Janie, look at me. I need to see your eyes.” She looked into his grassy-green orbs. Callused fingers stroked her jaw, sending shivers through her body. “I won’t hurt you. Your body is safe with me. Do you understand?”

She wasn’t sure she did, but she nodded silently.

The innocent, doe-eyed look on her face brought out his every possessive instinct. “Words, Janie, I need words,” Max demanded.

“I think I understand, Max.” She couldn’t help the breathless tone in her voice. “But what is this about?”

He inhaled, holding the air in his lungs for an extra second before letting it go, his eyes smoldering while his body still held the relaxed pose that had become so familiar to her. She could hear her own heart beating, and she could also hear it stop when the next statement left Max’s lips.

“I intend to fuck you tonight, Janie. I intend to fuck you very well. I am going to make you come in every way imaginable. With my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. I am going to do things to you that you and Lyla have only teased about at Danny’s, things that you have fantasized about, and things that have never even crossed your mind. You will have a say in whether or not we stop, but Janie, you will not have a say on whether it is your place or mine. Got it?”

She stared at Max and her mouth formed an O. She was thoroughly and truly speechless. So she nodded again.

“Words, Janie. I need words.”

“Okay.” Her heartbeat started speeding up again as Max’s car did the same.



Max grinned as he drove them toward her place. How is it possible that he finally had Janie Silver in his car? Fuck.

One word…Lyla. He was going to have to send her those raspberry truffles that she liked so much.

Keeping both hands on the wheel proved to be more difficult than he ever imagined. Just a few more minutes, and he would finally have Janie, his Janie, alone in her house, on her bed.

His house or hers? Max laughed to himself. What a ridiculous question. Didn’t she realize the answer had to be the place that was the closest to wherever they were? He was barely hanging on as it was. He had to be practically superhuman to have restrained himself from taking her in his car when they had pulled over for that quick chat. He’d wanted to run his hands through her long hair practically since the first Thursday night that she and Lyla had walked into Danny’s on Main. He’d been dying to know if her brown-and-copper cascades would feel as soft as they looked wrapped around his fingers.

For months he had been waiting for the right time. Watching her with the last loser had caused an unfamiliar pang of possessiveness to grip his gut and squeeze it like a vice. Hearing about the ten years of douche bags prior was enough to make him insane. Every workout with the heavy bag was him beating the shit out of all the faceless men who had hurt Janie in the past. Every MMA session had his partners feeling the pain that he wanted to inflict on the cheating sons of bitches that made Janie think she was unworthy of being worshipped. He got through each punishing run telling himself that one day he would be the man to teach her what the John Mayer song, “Your Body is a Wonderland” really meant. She was the one woman who made him wish he could have a relationship. If he still possessed his heart, he would give it to her. And that’s why he had stayed away from her. Until tonight.

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