On the Rocks, page 5
They left the apartment, and it took some maneuvering for her to get in the old Jeep without flashing Max before she was ready to do so. The drive to Blanchard’s didn’t take long, since it was less than two miles from her place. Their destination surprised her. She’d been wanting to go but didn’t want Max to be this extravagant.
“Welcome back, Ms. Cinclair,” the hostess said before Max gave her name, and the familiarity made Hayley relax. “We have your table ready.”
“This is beautiful,” she said as they sat in the corner. Of all the tables in the main dining room, theirs was the most secluded.
“You haven’t been here before?”
“No, it’s my first time.”
Max ordered wine and lifted her glass once the waiter was done pouring. “To many more firsts, and the pleasure to enjoy them with you.”
They had a wonderful meal, and Max took her to a jazz club after and danced with her, making the night even more perfect. When they got back to her apartment, Max lifted her out of the Jeep and held her hand as they went upstairs.
“Do you mind sitting for a minute?” She turned her back in silent request and held her breath as Max lowered the zipper. “I won’t be long.” Max kissed her before she walked away, then unbuttoned her cuffs when Hayley helped her off with her jacket.
“Take your time. I’m not in a rush.”
Hopefully tonight you will be, Hayley thought as she stepped out of her dress in the bedroom and studied herself in the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. She’d gone shopping earlier in the week not only for the dress, but for the dark green bra and panties. Yes, she thought the color would look good with her hair, but the truth was she wanted Max to chew through the leash of her self-control. There’d be no more strolls to calm down tonight.
She put on a robe and left it hanging open, stopping to enjoy Max’s expression when she walked back into the room. Knowing someone wanted you and seeing it so clearly on their face was an overwhelming experience, and she needed to have Max pressed up against her. The hunger in Max’s eyes made her nipples so hard the silk of her bra was almost painful against them. She had to have her—there was no more waiting.
“My God,” Max said as she walked slowly toward her. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
“You know what I’ve been thinking about for weeks now?” She shivered when Max pushed the robe off her shoulders and ran her fingertips lightly up her arms. The only way to stay on her feet was to take a breath and close her eyes for a moment to center herself.
“What’s that?” Max lowered her head and kissed the side of her neck.
That was the thing about Max that made her wild. She was tall, strong, and solid, but she was incredibly soft and gentle when it came to her. “The first time I saw you walk into that classroom, you made me want you. It’s all I’ve thought about and what made me chase you down.”
“Why do you think I sat next to you?” Max lowered the straps of her bra and stopped briefly, as if letting her decide if she could keep going. “Seeing you on that barstool a few days later made me think I’m luckier than I have a right to be.”
She let out a whoosh of air when Max placed her hands on her ass and picked her up so she could wrap her legs around her waist. Her center pressed into Max when she sat back down, making her so wet she wanted to rush. The only problem was Max acted like one of those infuriating people who carefully opened presents like they were determined not to tear the paper.
“You’re all I’ve thought about from that first kiss, but I want so much more.” Max kept her hands still as she spoke and encouraged Hayley to start unbuttoning her shirt. “You’re making me as insane as you have from the second your lips touched mine.”
“I want you crazy,” Hayley said, aggravated that shirts had so many damn buttons. “That’s what you do to me, and I want to know if you’re as desperate to be naked as I am.” She trapped Max when she pulled her shirt down but didn’t leave Max enough room to take it off.
“I need to touch you, baby.” Max leaned forward and kissed her until Hayley lifted her hands and threaded her fingers into Max’s hair, holding her in place.
She wanted to celebrate the fact that Max sounded so undone and that she was the reason why, but she didn’t want to wait anymore. Max gazed up at her, stood, and shrugged her shirt off before accepting Hayley’s hand. She wanted to take her time and hoped Max didn’t mind.
Her answer came when Max stood next to the bed and let her undress her. She touched Max’s naked chest as her other hand went to Max’s belt, and she smiled at how hard Max’s nipples had gotten. The act of undoing Max’s belt was her way of announcing her intentions, and Max stood there as Hayley unzipped her pants, letting them drop to the floor. Max Cinclair was incredibly gorgeous, but her body was enough to make you sweat.
The tight black boxers made Hayley’s nostrils flare, and she stared before putting her fingertips into the waistband and drawing them down. It didn’t take long for Max to kick her clothes aside, then wait for her to decide where they went next. Hayley wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t as experienced as most, and she didn’t want to disappoint Max.
“We don’t have to do this,” Max said, clearly interpreting her hesitation for reluctance. “Don’t think that you have to.”
“I’m not reluctant, honey—I’m trying to decide where to start.” She smiled at how sexy Max’s laugh was. Before now, all this would’ve been was sex, but Max was fun, and this wouldn’t simply be an act to satisfy a basic need.
“Take all the time you want, then. I’m all yours.” The words rang true, and she had no doubt because Max was, above all things, honorable.
“Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” She pushed Max onto her back and straddled her at the waist. “That first night you kissed me, I wanted you to touch me. I’ve never experienced that kind of overwhelming want in my life.”
“I really want to touch you now.” Max lifted her hands and started at her hips, sliding them up until Max reached her breasts.
Hayley sucked in a breath as the touch seemed to double the wetness between her legs. She needed Max to touch her, but not yet. She interlocked her fingers with Max’s and lifted their hands over her head. The beautiful smile Max gave her lulled her long enough for Max to suck in the nipple closest to her mouth.
“Behave, baby.” She said the words, but Max’s mouth felt so good she had a hard time pulling away. “There are so many things I’ve been waiting to do to you.”
“I can’t help it.” Max was six inches taller than her and a lot stronger, but she didn’t break her hold. “You’ve been the subject of all my dreams from that first kiss.”
“Such a sweet-talker.” She leaned down and kissed Max, making it slow, and it seemed to torture Max as much as it did her. “I want you so much.”
“I’m all yours, and the desire is mutual.”
She knew that, but it was all she needed to hear to move down and suck Max’s nipple until it pebbled against her tongue. The moan Max let out made her move to the other breast and let Max’s hands go. Now was the time to tattoo herself on Max’s heart and hopefully make herself unforgettable.
“Damn, you feel good.” She started to move down, stopping when she straddled Max’s leg, and Max flexed her thigh to press against her center. It was enough to make her want to not move from the spot, but she didn’t want to get distracted. “Jesus, baby.”
“You’re so wet. I can feel it. Please let me touch you.” Max ran her hands from her knee to her waist, and it spurred her to slide down farther and repeat the move on Max. She started at Max’s knees and moved up until her hands landed between Max’s legs. “Shit,” Max said when Hayley spread her sex and stroked her clit with her thumb.
“Can I touch you?” She heard Max agree, and she lowered her head and flattened her tongue on Max’s clit. It was hard and pulsing, and she smiled that it was her Max was this hot for.
Max’s hand on her head urged her to stroke with her tongue before she sucked her in, and Max’s hand tightened and fisted in her hair. “Fuck, that feels so good.” Max sounded winded and desperate, and Hayley wanted to stop to enjoy how turned on Max was. “So fucking good.”
She slowed her movements and almost laughed when she heard Max’s groan of protest, but she’d waited too long to have it end so quickly. “Do you like this, honey?” She flicked Max’s hard clit with the tip of her tongue.
“Are you teasing me?” Max lifted up on her elbows and looked down at her. There was nothing sexier to her than the way Max was staring at her right now. It was like Max’s eyes broadcast the message I know every one of your secrets, but you’re safe with me, and your biggest secret is you want me to fuck you.
That intensity in Max’s expression undid her, and she lowered her head. This time she’d give Max what she wanted. “Shit,” Max said, dropping back on the bed and putting her hand behind Hayley’s head again. “That’s good, baby, good.”
Max’s speech pattern had gotten simplistic, and Hayley figured that was a sign of approval. Max kept her hand on the back of her head and pumped up and into her mouth, only making grunting noises and breathing hard. Max’s clit was hard against her tongue, and she tasted so fucking good. There weren’t words enough in her vocabulary to describe how utterly exquisite this moment was.
She’d brought Max to the brink, and she hoped the act of loving her seared herself into Max’s heart and onto her skin. “Oh fuck,” Max said right before the muscles in her legs went rigid, and she bucked her hips two more times.
The moment was over, and she slowly lifted her mouth after kissing Max’s sex one more time. It was only then that she became aware of how turned on she was and how she didn’t want to wait anymore. She needed Max’s hands on her, her fingers inside her, and her mouth where she’d never allowed anyone else.
Present Day
Max had done that and so much more before the night was done, and she’d been the one tattooed by Max’s touch. She left a mark on Hayley that had never faded and reminded her often how lacking everyone who followed had been.
There wasn’t anyone who’d come close. Granted, she’d had satisfying sex since Max, but no one came close to the connection they’d had. That sense of being claimed had left her wanting, and she’d tried to bury that need in work. She and Percy were equals in the firm, but she’d closed considerably more accounts than he had. It was the best way to stay sane.
“What can I get you?” The bartender dropped a coaster in front of her and waited with a slight smile on her lips.
“An old-fashioned, please.”
“Do you have a preference on whiskey?”
“Cinclair’s five-year-old single barrel, please.” She might’ve walked away from Max, but not the advice she’d given her about alcohol.
“The lady knows her stuff.”
Hayley smiled back and glanced at the woman’s name tag. Portia was nice looking and started mixing the ingredients for her drink. She didn’t have the flair Max had behind the bar, but only because she seemed young. “I learned from the best a long time ago, and it stuck.”
“Where you from?” Portia added two dark cherries Hayley knew had been poached in Cinclair’s whiskey.
“New York.” She nodded when Portia placed her drink down and pushed it closer with her fingertip. “What’s your take on Cinclair?”
Portia gazed at her as she cleaned the cocktail shaker she’d used. “Overall, or in a you’re a reporter and you’re dying to know kind of way?”
“In a you’re a bartender, and there’s quite a few choices back there kind of way.” She took a sip of the first old-fashioned she’d had in years. “What do you think people would need to know that would make Cinclair their first and only choice?”
“There are plenty of great choices when it comes to whiskey, ma’am—it’s why we carry so many.” Portia picked up the bottle she’d used to mix her drink and poured a finger in a glass. She took a moment before picking a different bottle and pouring another finger in a new glass. “See the color of the second one?”
“It’s a little lighter.” She rested her chin on her palm, really interested in this woman’s take. Maybe it would give her a new idea for their presentation because now she was thinking their preliminary stuff was way off the mark.
“They’re both aged the same amount of time, but Cinclair’s is put in oak barrels that are smoked dry with a mix of woods that only the family knows. The char is what darkens the liquor and smooths out the flavor.” Portia handed her the glass with Cinclair’s in it and she took a sip. “And before the liquor makes it to that barrel? I can tell you exactly where every ingredient that it takes to make it is grown, and where the water comes out of the ground like it has for as long as the Cinclair family has owned the land.”
“So it’s the fact that you know where it comes from?” That would be the quickest way to lose a market audience.
“No, it’s that I know the cornfields have been farmed by the Cinclair family for generations”—Portia held her index finger up—“that a Cinclair family member is the cooper who makes the barrels”—another finger went up—“and a Cinclair is the master distiller who guarantees it’ll always taste like this.”
“So it’s the family?”
“It’s a mixture of both. You can’t have a glass of Cinclair’s without all those ingredients plus the care that drives the process.”
Hayley stared at Portia and finished the Cinclair glass, leaving the other one for Portia. “Cheers to your excellent salesmanship.”
“My boss always says that to know where you’re going, you have to remember where you’ve been.” Portia put her glass in with the rest of her dirty dishes before reaching for the one Hayley had used. “I’m sure it’s a famous quote, but in this business it makes sense.”
“It’s a good philosophy.” She swallowed another sip of her drink and closed her eyes as the warmth spread across her chest. “Do you know the Cinclair family? You must, to have all this information on them.”
The question made Portia’s eyes narrow, and she lost her friendly open expression. “Everyone in town knows the Cinclairs if you’re in the bar business. The whiskey’s a local favorite, and the family comes by every so often.”
“Sorry, I promise I’m not a reporter out to ruin their good name.” She twirled the glass with her drink in it and liked the coldness against her fingers. “I was just curious.”
“What are you after, then?” Portia sounded like a suspicious cop all of a sudden.
“I’m working on a project and wanted some insight. You have my word it’s nothing bad.” Great, with any luck Portia would give Max a call right after she left. Or was it Preston now?
“Let me know if you need anything else.” Portia nodded to the other bartender before disappearing into the back.
At least Portia didn’t know who she was.
Chapter Five
“Who is she?” Preston asked. Portia’s call had come just as she was packing to head out, but she stopped as Portia described Hayley, down to the tapered fingers. “And what kinds of questions?”
Portia gave her the rundown, and it sure sounded like research. “She’s still out there drinking her old-fashioned if you want me to tell her anything like go to hell.”
“Calm down, slugger, she’s only an advertising rep trying to get into my head, or really, Dale’s head. Put her drinks on my tab, and tell her to use Google like everyone else.”
“You sure? She’s hot.”
“Hot things often burn, pumpkin.” She closed her bag and got her keys out. “You need anything?”
“A raise and a new car.”
“How about your allowance and a new bike?”
“I’d tell you kiss my ass, but you’d probably enjoy it.”
She laughed before hanging up, anxious to get going. There was no fighting the urge to turn on the cross street that led to Bourbon Street and would take her right by the bar. Sure enough, there was Hayley. She’d picked the same drink, and sat on the same stool. The only difference was the stylish business suit and heels, and the massive amount of bad history between them.
Glancing up and seeing her in the office earlier had shocked her. Eight years was a long time to wait, and she’d planned her speech all that time, but the sight of Hayley had closed her throat and made the pain acutely real again. How love could make you hurt to the point you wanted to break made no sense to her. It was supposed to be love, for God’s sake.
“I’m such an asshole.” She turned toward Canal and headed for the road home. “That woman never gave you a second thought unless it was to laugh at your pathetic self with people like that condescending bitch Josie Simon.” Her palm hurt from slamming it against the steering wheel, but she was aggravated with herself for giving Hayley the power to still upset her.
“Get over it—she sure as hell did.”
She stopped at the second distillery and met with Pedro for their last preproduction meeting. He’d worked for Cinclair since he’d immigrated in the early sixties and spoke often of his job making Havana Club in Cuba. When she’d told him what she had in mind, his eyes had gotten teary.
“Are we ready?” she asked as she jotted a few notes.
“Taste this,” Pedro said handing over a small glass.
The molasses she’d imported was excellent, and the dark amber color was what Pedro said held the secret of sugarcane. “It’s better than you said, and hopefully our rum will be better than this.” She handed over a bottle of Havana Club Añejo and kissed his cheek. “See you tomorrow, amigo.”
She drove to their main facility next and started setting up for her grandfather and her parents in the tasting room. It was time to unveil the first addition to the Cinclair line in sixty years, and with any luck, her parents and Gramps would give her the go-ahead to enter it in competition.
