Page 41 of Beastly Armory
“Really? Sure! Fuck, wait till Hannah hears about this.” Snatching the phone, he calls room service again, punching the buttons with zest.
Max’s hard body presses into my back. Leaning over, his stubble caresses the skin exposed by the neck of my top above my collarbone, rippling fire through my veins with each tiny scratch. In a murmur, he says, “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do any of this. ’Cause I know you did. Not somecontact.”
Shoving a shoulder into his chest, I turn to face him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My friend?—”
Raising a long finger, he strokes the end of my nose. “Please, little fox. Quit being clever.” I press my lips together. He found me out. “Thank you, butwhy?”
Shirking a brow at him, I ask, “Huh?”
“Why are you doing this?” His lids narrow at me suspiciously.
Confidently, I tell him, “For the guns.”
“And that’s it?” he asks, as if expecting more from me.
“Yep. I wanna help my clan. Same as you.” The people of West Side need the weapons just like those inthe East. My ears drift to hear Derichs excitedly talking with his girlfriend about all the things he’s witnessed today, and there’s some small desire that plants its seed deep within me to help those in Freidenberg territory, too. I mean, they have nothing, so it wouldn’t be terrible for them to eat. But Max waits, as if he expects me to bow to him as King Consort of the East Side and agree to sacrifice my blood kin for his people. Unlikely.
Thrusting his wide jaw forward, he nods at me once, the line between his brows deeply embedded into his skin. Brushing past me with a shove, his voice is firm when he says, “Go on. Go back to your room. I’ll tell them to drop off your food over there. Goodnight.”
Practically forcing me into my side, he closes the adjoining door. Then, throws the lock, the metal screeching into the silent room. I scoff with irritation and do the same.
Eleven
LIVIA
The next morning, I sleep in as long as possible. Every time I roll over in the night, I know I’m going to be battling a hangover as soon as I become aware. My raging headache argues with me when I attempt to open my eyes. Okay, so I overdid it.
After my lonely dinner, considering knocking on Max’s door the entire time, I plunged into a hot bath and a full bottle of red. I may have dabbled with my vibrator a few times before falling asleep. All the while feeling terribly ashamed about replaying the day’s glory hole experience every time I orgasmed.
Had I wanted to go beg the lion to come keep me company? No. Absolutely not. Nope. Ugh… yes. It was only so long I could lie to myself about fantasizing about the enemy.
My mind wandered to the last time he made me feel safe and cared for, in that alleyway south of West Tech. Even at fourteen, I knew kissing him would only lead toheartbreak, despite my overwhelming desire for it. Every nerve ending had screamed at me to grab his jacket and kiss him; it would have been my first, but possibly my last, if Strauss and his men knew we were fraternizing. And even if I were killed for it by the consort, if Franklin found out, he would have murdered Max himself.
Still… part of me didn’t care.
I’m sure the concierge would send up some aspirin and water to help wipe away some of the throbbing and shame. Maybe Derichs would get me some from the hotel store if I asked politely. Max would probably just make the pain worse.
Sure enough, loud pounds vibrate the adjoining door before I can get vertical.
“Go away!” I yell, but the incessant knocking continues. He’s so annoying.
“Open up, little fox. Let me in.” Max’s muffled bass rolls through the thin wood divider like he’s the big bad wolf, and I know he’ll turn into a bear if I don’t answer him.
Sighing, I slip out of bed and stumble across the room, unlatching the bolt and opening the door widely. Max looks chipper and clean with a perfect style to his black waves, his stubble replaced by a smooth face. My body feels the urge to fold itself into his.
“You okay?” Max’s eyes scan my bare legs up to my breasts. I’m only wearing a thong and a tank top. My nipples harden under his gaze, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“Yes, I’m fine now, thanks.”
With a tiny smile, he says, “I was worried you drowned in your tub.”
A little snort escapes my nose. “What have you guys been up to?” I peek around the corner of the door. Their room smells like boy, some mixture of dirty socks and cologne. Derichs has his back to me at the dresser, loading a handgun magazine.
“Heading to a shooting range. You up for it?” Derichs asks over his shoulder.
“Ugh, I’m sure that will do wonders for my headache, but okay. We should be prepared for tonight.” Max is still leering at me, his eyes roaming freely up and down my body. “I’ll just go change.”
“You don’t have to,” Max says, fluttering his long lashes.