Page 43 of Wickedly Played (Checkmate #1)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

SERENA

My body shakes me awake as it pulls me out of my nightmare. Shit. I can’t believe I had another nightmare. In this one, Max didn’t get to me in time, Connor got his way, and I ended up being his breeder.

Slipping my hand across the sheets, I try to sense Max, but I can’t feel him. His side of the bed is cold.

Weird.

It has been two weeks since my kidnapping.

It has been one week since we moved into this beautiful penthouse in Corktown, and a room is being constructed to fit my needs for a playroom.

Each night, Max holds me while I sleep, I feel him next to me, but he hasn’t made a move. Is he no longer attracted to me?

What kind of fucking Domme does it make me that I’m questioning if my… what the hell even is he now to me? The threat has been eliminated with the death of Adam. Lorcan has been scared off to the other side of Detroit, and the McGuires have managed to take over a majority of the market again.

But where does that leave me and Max? Does he want me? Before the kidnapping, our relationship was just getting started… He was possessive. He was possessive in holding me when guns were pointed in the warehouse. He claimed me in the warehouse. But there hasn’t been much of anything else going on.

My stomach dips with nerves. I hate feeling so unsure of myself as I tiptoe through the house until I get to the office, which he has been using since I can’t stand to have him leave the home. I hope to feel better soon. I hope I can get him to leave our house soon without worrying.

I press my ear against the door to hear if there is anyone in the office. When I don’t hear anything, I push it open just slightly. “Hello?”

There is a hushed sound of expensive Italian fabric rubbing against fabric as people turn to look at me. I stand in front of ten men with Franky behind the desk, Max off to the side, Joey seated next to him, and then a few other men I have never seen before. I shift from my left to my right foot.

“Uh, sorry,” I mumble. My foot is about out the door when Max grabs my hand.

“Where are you going?” He pulls me to sit on his lap. In seconds, his arms are banded around my waist. “Don’t apologize for being wherever I am, sweetness. We were finishing up.”

I look around at the men in the room. Franky is squinting his eyes at me with a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “Serena, you’re looking a lot better.”

Looking down at my outfit, I shrug. I’m wearing black leggings, a pair of Ugg boots, and one of Max’s button-down shirts. Luckily, I put on a bra. I wasn’t expecting Max to have the Irish fucking mafia here.

“Thanks?”

“How do you like your new place?”

Giggling, I toss my blonde hair over my shoulder. “Are you making small talk with me?”

Max pinches my side. “Gentlemen, if we’re done, Serena and I have plans tonight.”

“We do?” I ask.

He winks at me. “We do. There is a box on our bed. I’ll see you in an hour.”

For the first time since my attack, I feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach. It feels strange- foreign, almost. My cheeks heat from the possibilities of what this could mean. I can’t wait.

After I take a shower, shave every part of my body, slather myself in the sweetest-smelling lotion, and spray myself with my Gucci Guilty perfume, I look in the mirror and see someone familiar. Broken Serena has been looking back at me since my attack, but this woman is the Mistress Aphrodite.

My smile breaks out on my face, and it is a genuine one. “Shit,” I whisper to myself. Suddenly, a giggle starts to bubble in my chest before blossoming into a full-blown belly laugh.

“Serena? Baby?” Max runs into the room. He stops right before he reaches me with his hands on my hips. “Are you okay?”

Smiling at him, I place my hand on his chest and push him down. “I am more than okay. In fact, I am great.”

His eyes do a cursory glance up and down my towel-covered body. “It has been a long time since I heard your laugh.”

“Thank you for everything,” I whisper.

“Sweetness, you don’t have to thank me.”

I’m fighting the urge to get him to kneel in front of me, but he has other urges. Max wraps his arms around my waist, and then his mouth is crashing down on mine. His lips are punishing as his tongue demands entrance into my mouth. Our tongues begin an erotic dance of pent-up passion.

Curling my fingers into the lapel of his suit jacket, I pull him closer to me. I feel his hands attempting to loosen my towel before he steps back from me. I whimper at the loss of his contact.

“What?” I blink, clearing the haze of lust.

“Baby, I want to fuck you so badly. I want nothing more than to lay you out on our bed, eat your sweet pussy, and then slide my dick inside of you all night.”

I moan at his filthy promises. “And?”

He winks. “But you’re not in charge right now.”

With one more kiss, he slaps me on the ass before strolling out of the bathroom. “Tease,” I yell after him.

So we are back to this game? Damn it.

With excitement, I flick the lid off the box to see what is inside. Each item is expertly wrapped, and I’m beginning to see there was so much more to Max than I thought there was.

Has Max always been this thoughtful? That is the only thing I can think of as I unwrap each item in the box.

A matching lingerie set, a beautiful lace purple dress, and purple Louboutin heels have been wrapped in the box.

The fluttering in my stomach is back, and I am trying to fight the butterflies back. I have never felt this nervous before.

Are we going on a date? Is that what we are doing?

Damn. It has been a long time since I’ve been on a date.

My bodyguard did a fantastic job on everything. Lingerie, dress, and heels all fit great. I do a spin in front of the mirror and lean over to look at my face one more time.

“Serena, you are no longer that broken girl. You’re going to move forward,” I say to the mirror.

I carefully apply my makeup a little lighter than I usually would to make sure nothing bleeds off my face onto the dress.

“Serena?”

With one last look in the mirror, I smile at my reflection. “I’m coming,” I call out.

“You will be saying that a lot tonight,” Max replies cheekily.

“Someone’s feeling a little cocky.”

He smirks while placing a hand on his heart as he circles me. We take each other in; he’s still wearing his sexy Armani black suit with the crisp, lake-blue button-down underneath, and it is open at the collar.

“Man, you can wear the hell out of a suit,” I compliment with a wink.

He whistles. “Sorry, I’m trying to catch my breath.”

“Such a charmer.”

Reaching into his suit coat, he pulls out a red jewelry box and opens it in front of me. Inside the infamous red box, a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings sits. They have to be at least a carat, if not a little more. My heart hammers in my chest as I look from the box to Max’s face.

“Baby, we didn’t get a chance to do this the right way. I don’t take back how we got together, but I wish I had the chance to date you like you deserved.”

My eyes blink several times as I process what he’s said. “Max… This is so sweet.” I take the box from him, quickly remove the earrings from the packaging, and fasten them into my ears. Then, I loop my arms around his neck. “Thank you, tough guy. You know, for a bodyguard, you’re pretty romantic.”

He throws his head back. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell anyone. No one would believe you.”

Twenty minutes later, we are sitting at The London Chop House. Max’s hand was possessively on the small of my back the whole way to the table, pulling out my chair, sliding it in, and then kissing my cheek.

“So, this is what it is like to be on a date with Max Fitzpatrick,” I giggle.

He winks. “I guess so. I don’t really date too much. After being on active duty, and then doing the stuff for the families, then all that bull shit with my brother, I never found the time actually to date.”

“Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I turn to see a small Italian man standing in front of our table, his face beaming with a generous smile. “Who is this lovely lady?”

“I’m Serena.” I hold out my hand, and he immediately flips it over to kiss the top of my hand. His lips linger a little longer than average over my skin.

Max growls from his seat across from me. I feel Max pulling me back away from the man with a possessive yank. “Watch it, Iago. I don’t care if you’re Mario’s brother. That’s my woman.”

Iago drops my hand like I’m poisonous, steps back, and immediately starts to sputter an apology. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Let me get your drinks and meals out for you and your lovely friend.”

As soon as he leaves, I lean in to arch an eyebrow at Max. “Your woman?”

He sits back in his chair with his ankle resting over his knee. The mafia persona is so much different than his bodyguard one. I’m beginning to see a combination of the two personalities intertwined together. “Yes, sweetness.”

“When was this decided?”

“The minute you hired me to be your bodyguard.”

Someone arrives with a bottle of wine, pours the sweet white wine into our glasses, delivers a cheese platter, and then leaves us to our little power struggle.

My lips twitch into a smile. “I didn’t even hire you, if you remember. Captain Chuckle Head… I think that’s what I called you?”

“Oh, yeah. Your assistant hired me.”

“Now look at us,” I giggle. Fluttering my eyelashes, I wrap my fingers around the stem of my glass to bring it to my lips.

Max’s lips are close to my ears as he whispers the next part. “Baby, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

He’s giving me some control.

“I want to.”

“Spread your legs,” he demands.

I flick my hair over my shoulders and level my shoulders at him. “I think you forgot that I am the one who delivers the orders,” I taunt.

“And you will. Just not now. It has been too long since I’ve played with your gorgeous pussy.”

Obscenely, I open my legs under the table and feel Max’s fingers dance up my thighs. I now realize why he asked us to be in the back of the restaurant. His hand grips my thigh tightly, and then he slides my chair across the tiled floor. “Get on my lap, baby.”

“Such an exhibitionist, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I tease. I slide onto his lap with my legs over the side. One of his arms braces my back to hold me while the other slides between my thighs.

“Are you wet for me?”

I had worried for so long that he wouldn’t be attracted to me after finding out his brother had assaulted me. I had feared he wouldn’t want me anymore. My confidence had significantly faltered, and now I’m seated in my man’s lap, in a nice restaurant, about to get finger-fucked by him.

“Soaking.”

His lips kiss, suck, lick my neck, and nip me just enough to have me writhing in pleasure on his lap. Max’s fingers push aside my underwear to feel my smooth skin. “Your pussy is so soft. You’re so perfect.”

“Max, please,” I beg.

“What do you need?”

My mind is swimming from the need to get off. I need relief so badly, I can’t stand it. “Touch me.”

His teeth latch onto my earlobe. “I am touching you.”

I’m about to moan out of frustration when he begins to do what I’m begging him to do. Max rubs my clit with just enough pressure to have me biting my hand to keep from calling out from the pleasure I have running through me. “Shit,” I cry.

“That’s it, baby. You know I have you.”

He does this for a couple more minutes before my body starts to shake and tremble from the onslaught of my orgasm about to tear through my body. My thighs close around his hand to stop, but he doesn’t.

“Take my dick out, baby.”