I swallowed and got to my feet, putting space between us. But Maxx was on the offensive now.
“You are so f**king naïve, Aubrey. So egocentric. You think you can stand there and pass your f**king judgments. I know that you don’t get it. That you feel betrayed,” he bit out. “What you don’t understand is that at least when I’m being someone else, when I’m that messed-up guy at the club, then I don’t have to be me!” he barked.
“And what’s so horrible about being Maxx Demelo?” I asked, wanting him to be honest, just for a moment. I was looking for that breakthrough so he could see what was at the root of all of this.
“Because I’m a f**king failure!” he screamed. He scrubbed his hands down over his face and then balled up his fist and hit the wall with a force that made me yelp.
Tears slipped down his face, and he hit the wall again. He covered his face with his arms and yelled, the cry muffled by his sweater. I could feel myself softening toward him; that twinge that only he could give me was starting to replace the anger. I looked around, relieved that we were still alone.
Maxx dropped his hands and stared at me with eyes that were haunted and utterly lost. “I’m a failure,” he whispered. “And anyone who expects me to be otherwise will only be disappointed.” He looked at me sharply, and his meaning was clear.
Don’t expect more from me than this.
“It’s nice to feel wanted. To have people need me for something that I can actually give them. I like knowing I can take a pill and none of this matters. I don’t feel the guilt. I don’t feel the weight of all this shit,” Maxx growled, pulling at his shirt above his heart.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “So don’t talk to me about what you think I should be doing or not doing. Because you don’t know a f**king thing about me.”
I was at a total loss about what to say. I was no longer standing there as Aubrey, future counselor. I was Aubrey, a young girl trying to save a sad boy I had, against my better judgment, come to care about.
“I can’t save myself, Aubrey. I know that. I’m a lost f**king cause.” He was so angry. He stalked toward me, grabbing hold of my face, and froze me with the strength of his glare. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed at me or himself. Most likely it was a little bit of both.
He shocked me by slamming his mouth to mine with such bruising force that I tasted blood. He pulled away just as suddenly as he had kissed me. He was wild and out of control. He was totally impulsive and unreadable. I wasn’t sure what he would do next.
He continued to hold my face tightly between his hands. “I want you, Aubrey,” he said in clear, succinct words. His fingers dug into my skin, and I tried not to wince.
Maxx held me tightly, as if he were worried I’d run away. A conflicting, rational part of me was still contemplating doing just that. I knew better than to get mixed up in whatever Maxx was. He was hands-off in every possible way. But that didn’t change the charge I felt around him—or how the destructive, broken man called out to the woman who wanted nothing more than to fix him, to save him, to make his world right again.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his words making me shiver.
I covered his hands, which held my face, with mine and stared up into eyes that pleaded with me to stay. “You scare me,” I told him honestly.
He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. He took deep, raspy breaths. “I scare myself,” he said. I reached up and put my arms around his neck as he dropped his hands to my hips. We breathed in each other, our eyes closing shut, letting the truth of our words hang in the air between us.
“You have to stop, Maxx. You’re on probation. If you get caught, you’ll go to jail,” I reasoned. Maxx nodded, his nose brushing against mine.
“I know. I can’t be that guy anymore. But he’s hard to let go of. I’m not sure I can do it by myself.”
“You’re destroying yourself. That stuff killed my sister. It could kill you too,” I went on. He didn’t deny anything I was saying. He didn’t get defensive. He didn’t tell me to mind my own business.
He only nodded.
“I need you,” he said so softly I barely heard him.
And just like that, he reeled me in. It was almost too easy. But he needed me. And I lived for being needed. It was an addiction just as powerful as his. And it had the potential to be just as destructive. I just didn’t know yet how much.
“I have to kiss you again. Please,” he begged. I was surprised he was asking for my permission, given the way he had attacked my mouth just minutes before. But he seemed to want my consent. It was as though he was letting me know that if I did, this time it would be different. Things between us would change, and there would be no going back.
Maxx opened his eyes, the blue a silent appeal for me to give in. I was powerless against him. I tried to remember the reasons I had for keeping my distance, but with him so close, pleading in that sad, desperate way of his, I couldn’t do anything but comply.
I yanked him closer and went up on my tiptoes to reach him. Our lips collided, and his arms came up around me, pressing my body firmly against his. He pushed me back against the wall as his mouth devoured mine. My tongue tangled with his, and my hands gripped his hair, pulling just enough to cause pain.
He groaned into my mouth, and we became frantic. Maxx lifted me up, his hands cupping my ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He rocked his pelvis into me, and I could feel his hardness beneath the layers of his clothing.
Maxx tore his mouth away and started to kiss his way down the column of my throat. I arched into his touch, wanting everything he gave. He moved his hand from my ass to the front of my jacket. He yanked at the zipper, pushing it open. Then he pulled my sweater down, stretching out the neck in his quest for bare skin.
And just as before, I let myself experience the insane feelings Maxx unleashed inside of me, feelings that only he could elicit.
He molded his fingers to my breast, kneading and rubbing. I moaned loudly in the empty corridor, and the sound echoed around us and seemed to drive him on. He shoved my bra away from my aching flesh, his fingers making that first tentative touch. He seemed unsure, but the more I writhed against him, the more confident his movements became, and he took my hard nub between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it just firmly enough to stoke the fire deep in my belly. I felt the sensation between my legs, and I thrust against him rhythmically, trying to find my release.