Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Emery

I was hunched over my workstation, taping down the last corner of what felt like my millionth package of the day, when Max materialized beside me like some kind of ninja-slash-guardian angel. He was holding a sleek black garment bag that looked way too fancy, and the sight of it made my tired brain instantly curious despite my end-of-shift exhaustion.

I blinked in confusion as he handed me the bag, my fingers curling around the expensive-feeling material. The weight of it felt substantial, making my curiosity spike even higher.

“This is for you. Go change.” His tone leaving no room for argument despite the gentle look in his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to unzip the bag right there in the middle of the warehouse. “Into what exactly?” My voice came out more suspicious than I’d intended, but after the day I’d had, being handed mysterious clothing by my admittedly gorgeous but usually stoic boss and now my lover felt a little surreal.

“Trust me.” He nodded toward the employee bathroom, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll like it.” Something in the way he said it, with a hint of warmth in his voice, made me forget my suspicions.

Grabbing my purse, I headed to the bathroom, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. Inside the garment bag, I found a beautiful black A-line dress that looked expensive enough to make me nervous about touching it. There was also a pair of heels that, thankfully, weren’t high enough to guarantee a trip to the emergency room.

“How did you even know my size?” I muttered to myself as I slipped into the dress. It fit perfectly, the fabric floating around my thighs in a way that made me feel both sexy and elegant. The heels were surprisingly comfortable, adding enough height to make my legs look amazing without risking life and limb.

I studied my reflection, grateful I’d worn my good bra. The dress hugged my curves in all the right places before flowing out at the waist. It was classic but definitely not boring, with a neckline that showed just enough cleavage to be interesting without venturing into questionable territory.

My legs and toes were going to freeze a bit, but I doubted we would be outside for any extended period. And if we were, that was a good excuse for Max to warm me up.

After fixing my hair and reapplying some lip gloss, I emerged from the bathroom to find Max waiting. He’d changed too, into a crisp white button-down shirt and black slacks that made him look like he’d stepped out of a magazine.

His eyes darkened as they traveled over me, and the heat in his gaze made my skin tingle. “Beautiful.”

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” I tried to keep my voice steady despite the way my pulse was racing.

“Have fun, kids!” Levi called from the top of the stairs, his voice suggestive. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“That’s a very short list,” Max shot back, making me laugh despite my nervousness about this whole situation.

“Exactly!” Levi grinned wickedly before he disappeared back down the hall, leaving Max and me alone in a bubble of anticipatory tension.

I was glad everyone else had left already, because the last thing I needed was for Blake to hear and see me with any of them.

After putting on our coats, Max led me out to his truck, opening the passenger door for me like a gentleman and helping me up.

“So, where are we going?”

“Dinner first, then a surprise.”

We ended up at a cozy Cuban restaurant that smelled amazing. Over ropa vieja and plantains, Max told me stories about his college days with Levi and Ronan, and I relaxed into the conversation.

“I have to know. How did three college guys end up starting a gift-wrapping business? It’s not exactly the typical post-graduation career path.” I took a long sip of my drink and let the alcohol calm my jittery nerves. The rum was already working its magic.

Max chuckled. “Would you believe it started as a joke? Freshman year around Christmas time, Levi kept complaining about how terrible he was at wrapping presents. Ronan, being Ronan, said he could wrap anything perfectly. One thing led to another, and suddenly we had a little side business wrapping gifts for other students.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “It actually paid pretty well. We expanded to the rest of the population and had a small space in the mall. Then, during senior year, Ronan’s business professor mentioned how there was this untapped market for luxury services. The rest, as they say, is history.”

We finished dinner and Max took my arm, walking me next door instead of to his truck. “Club Caliente?” I hadn’t expected Max to take me to a nightclub. “A dance club?”

“Better.” He grinned. “Salsa lessons, then dancing.”

“Oh, no.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I have enough trouble walking in a straight line. Adding rhythm to the equation is asking for trouble.”

He took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that sent tingles up my arm. “I’ll catch you if you fall.” His voice was low and sincere, and the way he was looking at me made me believe he meant more than keeping me from face-planting during salsa.

Opening the heavy door into the club, I was surprised to see it was empty except for a gorgeous woman off to the side of the dance floor scrolling on her phone.

She looked up when the door thudded shut behind us and grinned. “Max! My favorite student!” She hugged him before turning to me. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“This is Emery.” Max’s hand found the small of my back. “Emery, this is Carmen. She’s the best dance instructor in the city.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Carmen laughed. “Now, let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Unfortunately, not much.” My dancing prowess stopped at dropping it like it was lukewarm.

To my absolute shock, Max moved into position with the ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. One of his hands settled on my shoulder blade while the other hand took mine as Carmen started the music.

“You can actually dance?” I asked incredulously as he guided me through the basic steps.

He grinned. “I lost a bet with Ronan and Levi sophomore year and had to take dance lessons for a semester. Turned out I liked it.”

I had absolutely no clue what I was doing, but when Max moved his left foot forward, I moved my right foot back, and vice versa. When he lifted my arm, though, I stumbled over my feet, not knowing where to place them.

Carmen paused the music and came over to us. “Not bad. Usually toes get stepped on.”

Well, that was a good start, right?

Carmen was a patient teacher, and Max was an even better partner. He anticipated my movements, guiding me with gentle pressure and encouragement until I got the hang of it.

“Relax,” he murmured when I stumbled slightly. “Feel the music. Feel me.”

Oh, I was feeling him all right. Every point of contact between us seemed to spark with electricity. His hand on my back was warm and sure, and when he pulled me closer, I could feel the solid strength of his chest against mine.

By the time the lesson ended, I was flushed and slightly breathless, but not just from the dancing. Max’s eyes had grown increasingly darker as we moved together, and the way he was looking at me now made heat pool low in my belly.

“You’re a natural,” Carmen declared as she clapped her hands after we’d finished a series of steps. “The club opens in ten minutes. Stay and practice, yes?”

Before I could protest, she was gone, leaving us alone in the club. The mirrors that lined the walls reflected our images back at us. Both of us were slightly disheveled from dancing.

“One more practice dance?” Max pulled me back into position.

The music changed to something slower, more sensual. This time when Max moved, it was different. Gone was the careful instruction, replaced by something more intimate. His hand slid lower on my back, drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together.

“Max,” I breathed as his thigh slid between mine as we moved to the music. “I don’t think this is salsa, is it?”

“Hmm?” His lips brushed my ear. “It’s bachata.”

“This isn’t a very casual dance.” I gasped as his hand skimmed down my side.

“What would you call it?” His voice was rough, his eyes intense as they met mine.

Before I could tell him that it felt an awful lot like foreplay, the door opened, and people started filtering in as the club portion of the evening began. The music shifted to something faster, more upbeat, but the tension between us didn’t break.

If anything, it got worse as more couples filled the dance floor. The press of bodies around us meant we had to stay close, and every movement brought us into contact in new and increasingly distracting ways.

Max’s hands seemed to be everywhere; on my hips, sliding down my arms, splayed across my back as he dipped me. Each touch left trails of fire on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress.

“You’re killing me,” he murmured during a close turn that had me practically straddling his thigh at the end of it.

“Me?” I laughed breathlessly. “You’re the one who brought me here.”

His response was to pull me closer, one hand sliding down to cup my ass as we moved together. The dance floor was dark enough now that no one would notice, but I still felt deliciously scandalized.

“Maybe this wasn’t my best idea.” His voice was strained as I deliberately rolled my hips against him.

“Oh?” I tried for innocent. “Why is that?”

He growled something and spun me around, so my back was to his chest. His hands found my hips, guiding me in a slow grind that had nothing to do with the proper dance technique and everything to do with the growing tension between us.

His lips grazed my neck. “All I can think about is getting you out of this dress.”

Heat flooded through me at his words. “What’s stopping you?”

He stilled for a moment, his fingers flexing on my hips. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What happened to casual?” I couldn’t resist teasing, even as I let him lead me off the dance floor.

He stopped, pulling me into a shadowy corner by the door. His hands were anything but casual as they slid up my sides. “There’s nothing casual about the way I want you.”

“Max...”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, backing me against the wall. “Tell me this isn’t what you want.”

Instead of answering, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss that had been building all night. He groaned against my mouth, pressing me harder against the wall as his tongue swept past my lips.

The kiss was hot and desperate, filled with all the tension that had been simmering between us. His hands roamed my body freely now, and I arched into his touch, wanting more.

“My truck,” he gasped when we finally broke apart. “Now.”

I nodded, too turned on to form coherent words. As we practically ran to his truck, I couldn’t help but think that casual had gone out the window the moment he’d handed me that dress.

And honestly? I couldn’t bring myself to care.