“There are a lot of people in my life,” I pretended to mull over his question. “Yesterday I had lunch with a friend and after that I had to go get gas and I ended up talking to the cashier at 7-Eleven… I could keep going on and on,” I said cheekily.
He smiled wickedly and leaned in closer. “What I meant was, are you dating someone right now?”
Lachlan barged into my mind abruptly. Without asking, without caring that I was trying so hard not to think about him. I shifted awkwardly in my seat. “Actually… there’s someone from my childhood,” I said quietly.
“Yeah?” he said. I couldn’t figure out if I was seeing jealousy or intrigue in his eyes.
“It’s a long story,” I explained.
“I have all the time in the world,” Max replied.
“Not for this story you don’t.”
I wasn’t going to say any more. I didn’t want to talk about Lachlan; I think that showed in my expression. Max asked for the check and the subject was quickly dropped. I breathed a sigh of relief.
We stood up from the table at the same time. I squeezed my clutch as he slipped on his jacket. As we walked toward the exit, I felt his palm settle against my back. His fingers spread against my bare skin. It was the exact same spot as before.
The valet parked his car in front of the restaurant. To everyone else, it was probably a warm summer night. But everyone else hadn’t sat across from Max. They didn’t have his eyes on them for minutes on end, making their skin feel like it was in flames.
I took a deep breath.
I slid into the passenger seat. The door shut. I was surrounded by the scent of Max’s aftershave. I rubbed my hands against the goose bumps on my arms. They started to fade. When Max opened his door, they came back to life.
Before he put the car in drive, his fingers curved around the steering wheel and he thoughtfully stared at his hands with a tense expression, as if they had all the answers to his problems. When he finally turned to me, his eyes raked from my blonde hair, down to my legs.
“I can take you back to your house.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Or… ” he drew out.
Never had I ever been more relieved to hear that word.
“You can come home with me.”
When he said those words, his voice lowered.
Max stayed silent. I stayed silent. The engine hummed. Car doors slammed. Conversations and laughter were heard. Everyone and everything in the world continued around us, completely oblivious that whatever I said next had the potential to change everything.
I could have lied and made up some bullshit story about having to be up early tomorrow. I could have told him that I didn’t feel good. Or that I was really tired. But I didn’t. I went with what felt right.
“Your house,” I confirmed.
The entire drive to his house was tense. My heel tapped against the floorboard. I clutched my seatbelt like it was a lifeline. Max asked questions and I would give him one-word answers. I didn’t want to talk. All I could think about was what would happen when we arrived.
I wanted time to stop. I wanted to take a deep breath and calm my heart. But we were all too quickly turning into his driveway. Max cut the engine and glanced over at me. I was achingly aware of the heat coming from his body, of what he could give me.
He got out of the car. I stayed put. Seconds later he opened my door and ducked his head to look at me. The interior light slanted across his face, brightening his hazel eyes. I watched his gaze flick between my lips and eyes.
Lips. Eyes.
Lips. Eyes.
Finally, he settled on my lips.
“It’s okay to get out,” Max said slowly.
Was it really? Even when the words slipped out of his mouth he seemed unconvinced. What were we walking into?
My lips curled into a tense smile and I let him lead the way up the sidewalk. I barely gave his house a passing glance the last time I was here. But tonight I took it all in. His house was a decent size. Not too big. Not too little. The exterior was nothing but brick. Spotlights placed behind the shrubs cast a yellow glow onto the windows. It was nothing like the exorbitant mansions around here. It surprised me, in a good way. We walked through the front door. The foyer was spacious, with minimal decor. It was so quiet. The sounds of our footsteps echoed loudly. It sounded unnatural. Every single click of my heels reminded me that I was alone with him.
“Home sweet home,” I murmured underneath my breath.
Max was close enough to hear me though. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. “You want a tour?”
“Sure.” A tour was harmless.
His first stop was to the right. He turned on the lights. “This is my office.”
Max walked over to his desk as if it were his first instinct. He took off his black blazer, dropped it onto his chair and glanced down at the papers on his desk.
I leaned against the wall. “Not too shabby.”
He smiled. “Glad it meets your approval.”
I watched him as he moved papers around, his sharp brows knitted in concentration. His arms were braced on the desk and I wanted to walk closer, until I was caged in between him and the desk. I wanted all his focus on me.
On cue, Max glanced up at me, and smirked. There was nothing playful in his gaze. His eyes pinned me to the wall and left me immobile. They dared me to walk forward and act out my thoughts.
It took me a second to gather my breath. My heart pounded in my ribs almost to the point of being painful. Finally, when I could move without shaking, I walked around the room, looking it over. A large mahogany desk stood in the middle of the room. The walls were painted a coffee brown. Two leather chairs faced his desk and the wall to the left was nothing but a floor to ceiling bookshelf. Opposite the bookshelf was a couch that looked like it was there more for show than anything.
Max walked around the desk, only a few steps away from me. I tried not to fidget and take a step back.
“You ready to see the rest?” he asked.
The image of seeing his bedroom flashed through my head. I took a step back. Suddenly, a tour of the house didn’t seem so harmless. “It’s getting late. I should be getting home.”
He advanced slowly. “It’s only 11. But if you want to go home, I can take you home.”
I kept moving until my legs bumped into the couch. When no words came out of my mouth, he stepped closer, with one foot in between my legs, effectively caging me in.
“Do you want to go home?” he asked in that slow drawl.
I was short of breath.
“Naomi?”
My eyes were level with his chest. I had to tilt my head. Back, back, back it went until I connected with his eyes.
“What?”
“You never answered my question.”
“I can’t think,” I mumbled. “You’re invading my personal space.”
Most people would’ve backed away, but Max leaned forward. His lips were so close. It was torture. Like dangling forbidden fruit in front of my face—I just wanted a single bite.
“Are you sure?” he said.
More than anything I wanted to close my eyes right that second and lean into him. In the back of my mind I knew that he had asked a question, but I couldn’t think. His large frame loomed over me and made it impossible for me to see anything but him. His scent was wrapped around me and all I could do was inhale.
“Still invading your personal space?”
My breasts were pressed against his chest. I felt his arousal against my thigh. His eyes became hooded and my breath escaped in short gasps.
When you’re this close to another person, it’s crazy what your eyes see first. I could have noticed the way his nose brushed against mine or how his lips were inches away. But all I saw was how the tendons in his neck were strained the longer we stayed apart. I watched as his pupils dilated. The black slowly spread, taking over his hazel irises. He was stopping this kiss from happening and that made me want it more.
&n
bsp; Then his head tilted to the left, and his lips moved against my own gently. Like he was memorizing the curve of my lips, the way they tasted. He was going slowly. He was building me up.
I didn’t have his patience. I pushed my tongue into his mouth. I raised my hands, intending to link them around his neck and pull him closer. But he intercepted my fingers and linked them with his own. Our palms touched. His grip tightened about the same time he increased the pressure of his lips. I sucked in a sharp breath.
And then Max pulled back. He blinked repeatedly. Our hands were still connected. That was all that kept us from completely touching. The silence was deafening. But it was the quiet that happens before a storm, before a strong gust of wind or a powerful lightning strike.
My mind pulled up the memory of the first time I saw him and the silent toast he gave me. Get Ready echoed in my ears before Max pulled me to him with our linked hands. Everything after that turned ferocious. I came at him with intensity that had been building up inside of me since the day I met him. My hands clawed at his shirt, trying to get him out of his clothes. He licked and sucked on my lips like I was the best thing he had ever tasted. I moaned into his mouth. I felt his knee wedged between my legs. It was then that I realized I was on the couch and he was looming above me. I was past the point of caring. Logic had disappeared the minute I stepped into that room. I was just desperate to keep his lips on mine.
I arched my back, trying to get closer.
Max’s hands drifted from my waist to grip my arms tightly. Seconds later, he pushed me away. His chest heaved as he stared down at me with a frown. I panted and licked my lips.
He held my jaw in his hand and stared at me with panic. “Son of a bitch,” he growled.
I wasn’t alone. I knew that everything I felt, so did he.
So I pressed my palms against his shoulders and pushed him onto the couch. I kicked my heels off. I hiked my dress up. I climbed over him like I owned him. He didn’t stop me. His eyes widened like he knew the balance of control was shifting out of his territory.
Just one more kiss. One more touch and I’ll be finished, I thought to myself. And in my mind it made perfect sense to keep going—to curb my craving of Max.
One quick jerk was all it took and his shirt was out of his slacks. I didn’t have enough patience to unbutton his shirt. My fingers crept under the material with a mind of their own. I rose on my knees and with my lips still on his, I dragged my fingers up his stomach, memorizing every hard ridge.
“Shit,” he hissed.
I smiled against his neck and pressed myself into him, completely aware of how tense his body was beneath me. He was ready to break. Ready to take me right here. The craziest thing out of all of this was that I wanted him to.
One more kiss? Was I delusional?
One kiss from Max and I became voracious.
Lip biting.
Bare skin touching.
Hands all over.
I wanted it all.
My tongue dragged down his throat and flicked against the skittering of his pulse. I pulled my hands from underneath his shirt and went straight for the buttons. I was ready to see what I was touching. He helped me. I anxiously parted his shirt and pushed him deeper into the sofa.
For a second, I looked down at him. Taking in his impressive body. Without realizing it, I started to rub myself against him. Both of his hands wrapped around my hips. His fingers pressed deeper into my skin and his breathing increased as my hands traced every muscle.
I was ready to lick every single line and curve of his stomach. I lowered my head and lightly bit down on his pec. A groan tore from Max’s throat.
“Naomi.”
I closed my eyes, as my name came from his mouth, making his chest vibrate against my ear.
“Do you want me to fuck you right here?” His voice was a deep rasp. Almost like he was in pain. “Because I’m seconds away from doing just that.”
I lifted my head. Instead of answering him, my fingers grabbed his silk tie and used it to tug him closer. There were a billion ways to tell him no. I whispered into his mouth and said, “Yes.”
A harsh sound tore from the back of his throat. All control was stolen from me in seconds. Max crushed our mouths together before he licked my lower lip, bit down and sucked it strongly enough to make my fingers dig into his shoulders in pain and pleasure. My fingers raked through his hair, and I tugged on the strands, making him tilt his head back.
He responded by tugging down the straps of my dress with hard jerks, exposing my breasts. There was a pause. The two of us panting. My nipples tightened. The way I was sitting made them inches away from his face.
I watched in silent torture as his eyes stayed rooted on my chest. His nostrils flared before he cupped my breasts in both hands. “Fucking perfect,” he growled.
I whimpered when he massaged them, pressed them together. Kissed the curve of one swell. He was killing me. Every noise I made seemed to spur him on.
He looked up at me. Our eyes locked. I saw the wild look in his eyes. Slowly, Max leaned forward and repeatedly flicked his tongue against my nipple. For a few minutes it was torture and complete pleasure as he went back and forth. And then his hands were everywhere at once. Pushing my dress down my stomach, brushing against my lace underwear with teasing strokes. He was hitting pleasure points at a rapid pace. I couldn’t keep up and not once did he give me a break to catch my breath.
Over and over he built me up with his hands, his lips. And I knew I was right there. So close to breaking apart.
And then his hands curled around my arms. He pushed me away, breathing harshly. I almost cried out. He flipped me over, looming above me.
Out of nowhere I heard Lachlan’s voice in my head. I heard the words he said to me almost a year ago.
“I’m going to be here waiting.”
Suddenly, I felt like a traitor. A traitor against my heart. A traitor for kissing and feeling things for someone that wasn’t Lachlan.
“Stop,” I panted.
Max leaned back, frowning at me. I instantly jumped off the couch. I quickly fixed the straps of my dress. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It took me three tries to cover myself and even then, I still felt naked.
Disbelief made my heart thunder in my chest.
How did it get out of control so quickly?
I turned back around. My answer was right in front of me. Max. He looked sexy, disheveled, and so completely tempting I almost took a step forward.
He was standing up now. His shirt was still unbuttoned, and his tie was skewed, trailing down his naked chest. Every time he panted, his stomach muscles would clench, making my body react. His hair was in every direction.
“Why did you stop?” he panted.
I stumbled from the couch, toward the other side of the room. I didn’t know how to answer him. Everything I said right now would be fueled by lust, my desire for him and what we almost did and what I still wanted to do.
“I-I just—” I fumbled through my words.
“Is everything okay?”
No, everything wasn’t okay. The shadow of my first love wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t say the truth though. Instead, I smiled and said: “Everything’s fine. We were just… moving too fast.”
“Moving too fast,” he repeated.
I nodded and watched as he slipped off his tie and blindly tossed it at his desk. He buttoned his shirt back up and I wanted to tell him to stop.
He caught me staring. “You can’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I breathed.
“Like you want us to keep going.”
I looked away and never answered him.
Max stopped in front of me. “You’ll be here for the rest of the summer?” he asked.
I nodded and watched him with confusion.
Letting out a deep breath, Max dragged both hands through his hair and leveled me with a determined look. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Because of wha
t just happened?” I asked.
“Does that,” he gestured toward the couch, “happen to you often?”
If that happened to me often, I would need a pacemaker. What just happened was almost soul-shaking.
“No,” I finally admitted.
It was the answer he wanted. He nodded and swiped his keys from the desk before he stalked toward me. He stood in front of me and cupped my face. His eyes were still hard, with the same wild look that had been there when he kissed me.
“Give me the summer.” His voice lowered into sexy whisper. “While you’re here, be with me.”
“And that’s it?” I challenged. “I’m free to do whatever after that?”
His jaw flexed. “Give me right now.”
Both of us were avoiding what needed to be asked: would either of us be free after this summer?
I couldn’t deny this raw hunger between us any more than he could, and I knew, deep down, that if I skipped this chance, I would regret it.
Maybe forever.
My answer was a simple nod. His head lowered. Lips touched mine gently. My body shook.
Fuck the truth. It was the heart that was my worst enemy. It was the one that was going to cut me. Bleed me. It would be the one to kill me.
Max drove me back to Lana’s house. I was on autopilot the entire ride. My mind kept rewinding back to the two of us on his couch.
When he dropped me off, I sat outside. For minutes? Hours? Beats me. I just stared at the clear black sky, hoping that I would forget about our kiss. That’s the thing though, logic made that impossible. Logic seemed to disappear in the moment I needed it the most, but reared its practical head when everything was said and done. And right now, it was showing me everything I did wrong.
What did you think, Naomi? That you could be alone with him and nothing would happen?
I rested my elbows on my knees and looked down at the brick steps.
Why did you even tell him to go back to the house? Why?
Good question. Why didn’t I tell him to just take me home?
I didn’t have an answer. Nothing valid, at least. The only thing I had was excuses. It was those looks he gave me during dinner. Or when he put his hand on my lower back. It was an act of protectiveness and chivalry. Maybe it was when we changed positions and his body was beneath me? The power I felt in that moment made my skin tingle. I could get drunk from that much power. When my head was pressed against his chest, I heard the solid beat of his heart; his scent had engulfed me. I had stayed perfectly still, hoping that maybe if I pressed deep enough, his scent would sink underneath my skin.