Sex and the Billionaire Crime Boss - Season 2

Ch. 11: Getting In Deeper

When I wake up, Max is not in the bed. I take a shower and try to wash away the embarrassment from last night. I can't believe I was practically begging him to have sex with me, after telling him last Monday that we were done.

And his comment last night that he will be taking me to bed today unless I say no has me worried. Because I'm not sure I can say no, especially if he touches me, kisses me. My attraction to Max is just too incendiary. Sometimes I feel like if he even just looks at me a certain way, I might burst into flames.

I get out of the shower, wrap myself in one of the fancy robes and step out into the living area. No Max. I check my phone for messages, realizing belatedly that that's the first thing I should have done when I woke up.

There's a text from Max. Gabe and I are in the club lounge. Join us.

One of the advantages of concierge level. The lounge is open pretty much all the time, and provides not just a breakfast buffet, but snacks during the day and even a light dinner, coupled with comfortable seating, fast WIFI, a quiet place to work and a killer view of Manhattan through the floor to ceiling windows.

Still, considering the confidential things we might want to discuss, I'm surprised Max didn't just invite Gabe to our suite and order room service.

I put on black leggings, a cami, and a thin red pullover sweater that was one of those business casual purchases Martina talked me into on our first shopping trip, and slide my feet into a pair of soft red leather flats (also from the same shopping) and head over there. I'd rather be wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt, but I remember seeing something about a dress code for the lounge.

Max and Gabe are sitting at a table near the wall of windows, with mostly empty plates in front of them so I assume they've been here awhile. I walk over and Max tells me to get some food and join them.

"Remember," he cautions me, "we're meeting Gino for a poolside lunch at his hotel, so don't fill up too much here."

I walk over to the recessed area that holds the buffet, and I get why Max chose it instead of room service. It's everything you could imagine a luxury breakfast buffet would offer.

Keeping in mind Max's statement about meeting Gino for lunch later, I use restraint. I put some smoked salmon, capers, small rounds of bread, and a scoop of cream cheese on my plate. I also can't resist sampling the fluffy scrambled eggs that are clearly made of real eggs - and in case you had a question, there's a discreet sign near them that proclaims they are organic, free range eggs. This is nothing like the breakfast buffets we used to get at public defenders conferences when we stayed in those inexpensive hotels that promise a hot breakfast and give you reconstituted powdered eggs.

I add some fresh fruit, and some kind of miniature crab cake with Hollandaise sauce, then head back to the table. Someone - either Max or Gabe - already got me coffee and juice.

"I could get used to living like this," I joke, then realize that being with Max is living like this.

"I've been thinking about what happened last night," Max says, "and it just doesn't add up. "Tell us again exactly what this person said to you."

"It all happened so fast." I pause and take a sip of coffee, feeling instantly more alert as the caffein hits my bloodstream. "But I'm pretty sure the only thing she said was 'Come with me or I'll cut you.'"

Max nods. "So she was trying to take you someplace. But where?"

"What puzzles me," Gabe says, "is that if she was following you she had to have seen me standing right outside the door. And there isn't any other exit. So I don't know what someone would have thought they'd accomplish."