CHAPTER NINE
Max’s Magic Rule #10:
Always have another trick up your sleeve.
Grace made Max stop at a gas station so she could wash up. She used the opportunity to take some deep breaths and compose herself so his mother wouldn’t instantly know what they’d been doing on the drive. Since her confession about only wanting an orgasm if Max was touching her, Max had gone quiet. Maybe he was reading too much into what she’d said. Maybe he thought she’d get clingy at the end of their week together. To put him at ease, she started telling him the requirements she had for her baby’s father, including a stable job that didn’t involve a lot of traveling, as well as a large extended family. Though he nodded and responded here and there, his answers were terse.
Finally, he pulled into a neighborhood where the houses had big lawns and vast amounts of grass and trees between them. Being from overpriced-housing-and-space-deprived California, it wasn’t the type of place she’d expect retirees to live. As they got out of the car, a fawn-colored Cocker Spaniel with feathered hair on its chest and legs ran up to greet them with a ball in its mouth. It dropped the ball at Max’s feet and sat, its hinny wriggling and tail wagging like crazy.
Max laughed, crouched down and petted the dog. He didn’t seem to mind when it covered his face with wet sloppy kisses. “This is Houdini. My parents got him when they moved in.”
Grace bent to rub the dog behind his ears, laughing when he licked her hand then nudged the ball with his nose.
“Are they going to put him in a kennel while they’re gone?”
“They’re hiring a pet sitter to come to the house.” He picked up Houdini’s ball and waved it in front of the dog, who barked excitedly and spun in circles. Max hurled the ball towards a tree in the distance, and Houdini ran after it. Max turned to Grace with a grin. “I’d love to take him, but between all the performances…” He shrugged.
Despite the dismissive gesture, she wasn’t fooled. Not being able to watch Houdini—not being able to have a dog period—was not something Max was okay with.
When Houdini brought the ball back, Max threw it again. He looked so carefree that she automatically wondered what else he didn’t allow himself because of his commitments to the show. What other regrets did he try to hide behind a smile and shrug?
“Max,” a woman called.
His parents walked down the long driveway toward them. Jack was fit, tall and handsome despite the fact he was losing his dark hair. What he had left of it seemed to stick up in random tufts. Rachel was beautiful, with an hour-glass figure and smooth skin that made her look closer to forty than sixty. She had the same light hair and eyes as her sons. Grace gave them what she hoped wasn’t a nervous smile.
After hugging both his mother and father, Max turned and motioned for Grace to join them. “Mom. Dad. You remember Grace. She was in town visiting Melina and graciously offered to keep me company on the drive over.”
Grace didn’t miss the look Rachel quickly shot Jack before they both hugged her.
“Of course I remember Melina’s beautiful friend from the wedding,” Jack said.
“So wonderful to see you again,” Rachel said. “And so nice of you to come along with Max. We know it’s a long trip.” She turned to Max. “I’m sorry for the trouble, sweetie. I know it was last minute and I appreciate you taking the long drive. I just really wanted Melina to have the baby blankets before we left, and with all the preparation we’re doing for the trip…”
“Let alone all the arrangements we had to make for Houdini here,” Jack said. “I’m telling you, Rachel, we should never have gotten him.” In contrast to his words, however, Jack was petting Houdini and about to take over throwing the dog the ball.
Rachel patted her husband’s shoulder. “You’re just afraid you’re going to miss your number one fan while we’re gone. I’ll have to make sure I keep you appropriately occupied so you won’t.” She winked at Max.
Instead of cringing at his mother’s sexually-charged teasing, Max grinned. “Just leave the handcuffs at home this time, will you? We don’t want another disaster on our hands.”
Grace’s eyes widened and her cheeks heated. She knew Max and his parents were close. She’d been close with her parents, too, but she couldn’t imagine exchanging innuendos with them, no matter how old she was.
Rachel slapped Max’s arm. “Max, stop. You’re embarrassing Grace.”
Max wrapped an arm around Grace’s back and pulled her close to his side. “Grace isn’t as easily shocked as you might think. Besides, I told you, if you flirt with Dad in front of me, I’m going to have to upstage you. It’s in my nature.”
Without taking her eyes off Max’s arm, which was still around Grace, Rachel said, “I’m your mother, Maxwell. I know your nature by now. And I also know you have good taste. Both my boys do.” Her gaze lifted and she winked at Grace.
“That we do.” Max squeezed Grace’s shoulder before dropping his arm.
As a group, they walked up the cobbled walkway toward the cottage-style ranch. The light blue shutters and wraparound porch lent themselves to the setting—so charming, so different from the bright lights and hectic energy of Vegas. Max looked totally at home. For a moment, it threw Grace. Made her wonder again—who was Max Dalton?
“How’s Melina feeling?” Rachel asked, her expression shifting from delight to worry.
Grace frowned. “Is Melina not feelin’ well?” Was there something the others weren’t telling her? Sure, Melina seemed tired after that massive shopping trip, but…
“She’s feeling a little run down,” Max said. “That’s why Rhys wanted to spend the day with her today. He said he has some big meetings coming up, so he wants to give her some extra TLC.”
Rachel stopped just outside the front door and turned toward Jack. “It’s not too late for us to cancel our trip. If Melina’s not feeling well—”
Max rested his hands on his mother’s shoulders and gently turned her so she was facing him. “Mom, Melina’s fine. You’ve been looking forward to this trip for a year—”
“That was before Melina got pregnant.”
“—and there’s no reason you can’t go. The babies aren’t due for another two months. You’ll be back in two weeks. Enjoy yourself now because, as I told Grace earlier, you’re not going to want to travel after the babies are born.”
Rachel bit her lip. When she looked at her husband again, Jack stepped up and hugged her. “We’re a plane ride away if they need us, Rachel,” he said.
She nodded. Sighed. “Okay. It’s just hard not to worry. About my boys. And about Melina.” She patted Max’s cheek. “I’ll worry about your wife too, when the time comes.”
“I know.” He kissed her cheek. “Now, where are those blankets you’ve been working so hard on?”
His mom hooked her arm through his. “Let’s go inside. I just need to give Donna, the lady who’s going to be watching Houdini for us, some final instructions.”
They walked into the house, modest in size and decoration—rustic, and with walls covered by photos of Max and Rhys, from young boys to adults. It was clear to Grace which twin was Max in the pictures—the one usually mugging it up for the cameras. Rachel beckoned them into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, which she held out to Jack. Grace took a moment to examine the numerous clippings stuck to the refrigerator with magnets. Each featured Max or Rhys or both. Many featured Max with young women, gazing adoringly at him or melted over his arm or shoulders.
“Rachel,” a young girl’s voice cried out just as a whirling ball of energy exploded through the back door.
“Grace, Max,” Rachel said, smiling as she swung the girl who looked to be about four years old up into her arms. “This is Chloe. She belongs to Donna, our housekeeper and, for the next two weeks, Houdini’s caretaker.”
A young woman with the same strawberry blond hair and freckles as her daughter came into the kitchen after Chloe, clutching a baby boy on her hip, a wide smile on her face. The baby didn’t have much hair, but what he did have was dark. “Sorry, she’s a little out of control. Chloe, what are you supposed to do when you come to Rachel and Jack’s house?”
“Knock on the door and wait for permission to come in,” the little girl said, patting Rachel’s cheeks and gazing at her with adoration. “And I did. Yesterday.”
Max laughed out loud, catching Chloe’s attention. The girl, still in Rachel’s arms, focused her gaze on him, but pulled in tighter to Rachel, and dropped the big grin.
“Chloe,” Rachel said, “remember how I told you I have two boys? This is Max.”
The little girl looked at Max, then at Grace, then back at Max again, twisting her body to meld closer to Rachel’s, obviously uncomfortable. “He’s not a kid. He’s a grownup.”
“Sorry,” Donna said, apologizing again. “She doesn’t do so well with strangers.”
“It’s okay,” Max said. “Chloe, you’re right, I’m definitely not a kid anymore. Both Rachel and Jack’s kids grew up. But just because we’re grownups doesn’t mean we’re not fun. In fact…” He took a step toward his mother, then reached a hand out, as if he was going to stroke Chloe’s hair.
Grace held her breath. Even though she’d been an older child when her parents died, strangers approaching her always freaked her out. Max should know better than to come up to a kid so directly, especially one whose own mother said she was afraid of strangers.
But then he smoothed his hand over his mother’s head, tweaked her ear, and held up a large silver dollar in his hand to show Chloe. “Check it out, Chloe. Did you know Rachel had a dollar in her ear?”
Chloe stared at the silver dollar with intensity, then swept her gaze back up to Max’s face, a mixture of disbelief and concentration. “She didn’t have money in her ear. You made that happen.”
Max chuckled. “Yep. Know how?”
Chloe shook her head.
“Magic.”
At that, the girl frowned, pinching her brows together. “There’s no such thing as magic.”
“You sure about that? Here,” Max said. “Stick your fingers in your ears. See if there’s any money there.”
Promptly, Chloe stuffed her fingers in her ears, then pulled them out again, a satisfied look on her face. “No money.”
“Bet you’re wrong,”
The girl grinned. “No money,” she shouted excitedly.
Max stretched his hands out, palms up, and let Chloe see he wasn’t holding anything. Then he swept his hands over her ears and produced a silver dollar in each hand. “So what do you call this?” he asked.
A bright grin swept over Chloe’s face. She grabbed the silver dollars, squirmed out of Rachel’s arms and ran over to her mom. “Max made magic. He found money in my ears. Can I keep it?”
Donna started to shake her head, but Rachel said, “Of course you can. Max meant it as a gift. And a gift from Max is the best thing a girl can ever receive because he doesn’t give gifts to just anyone. Just to those who are special. And you are special,” Rachel said, tweaking Chloe’s nose. Rachel glanced up at Grace and smiled, as if she was talking to her as well as Chloe.
Donna laughed and said, “Okay, so what do you say when someone gives you a gift?”
“Thank you,” Chloe said sweetly before wrapping her arms around Max’s knees, squeezing him tight. Grace felt warmth spread through her chest. She was moved by Max’s actions, but also by Chloe’s unreserved affection, as well as the message Max’s mom had given the little girl. And Grace.
“Chloe,” Donna said, shifting the baby to the other hip, “it’s time to say goodbye to Rachel.”
“And Max,” Chloe said promptly, then hugged Max again, who chuckled and ruffled her hair.
“I hope to see you again, Chloe,” he said.
After Donna managed to drag her daughter out of the house, Rachel poured more coffee. “Help your father put away the outdoor furniture, would you, Max?”
Grace caught the silent look that passed between Max’s parents, which clearly communicated Rachel wanted to be alone with Grace. Tension slid up her spine and she felt herself blushing again, wondering if Max’s mother suspected all the “gifts” Max had given her so far.
“No problem,” Max said, but turned to face Grace and winked. “You want to come with me? I can show you the yard. My mom’s a great gardener.”
Bless Max’s heart. He was giving her an out in case she didn’t want to be alone with his mother. She took a quick peek at Rachel, who was fighting to hold back her laughter. Grace felt like laughing, too.
“Go help your father,” Grace said quickly, “and maybe your mom will show me these baby blankets she made.”
“They’re in the guest room,” Rachel said.
After Max and his father headed outside, Rachel gestured for Grace to follow her to a back room, where two large gift boxes sat on a bed. When Rachel pulled a quilted baby blanket out of one of the boxes, Grace caught her breath. It was beautiful. Hand quilted, with tiny stitches that had to have taken hours upon hours. The blanket bore Rhys and Melina’s name and a large blank heart, which Rachel traced with one finger.
“Since Rhys and Melina waited to find out the sex of their babies, the baby’s name will be placed in the heart once it’s born,” Rachel said.
“You did this?” Grace asked. “This must have taken months.”
“Years, actually,” Rachel said.
Grace looked up, puzzled. “Years?”
“A grandmother’s love starts when the idea of a baby forms in her child’s mind. Not when the baby is conceived. Or born. Rhys loved Melina for years, and I knew Melina felt the same way. That they dreamed of being a family long before they actually became pregnant.”
Grace choked back a sob and fought against the stinging in her eyes.
Rachel was right. Melina had loved Rhys since she was fourteen. She’d just never believed Rhys could feel the same way. The day they married was the happiest of her life—until the day she found out she was pregnant. Now Melina, who was already close with her own parents, had twice as much family. That included Max.
Grace had friends, good friends, but she didn’t have family. What would her life look like if her parents and their parents had lived? If a grandmother loved her when she was just a dream in her mother’s heart?
She ran her thumb over a row of stitches that formed the intricate border of the heart. “Is the other one exactly the same?”
“Identical,” Rachel said with a laugh. “Wishful thinking I guess.”
The comment made sense, given Rhys and Max looked exactly alike. Funny, Grace usually didn’t think about that. Max just seemed like Max. Not a twin but wholly unique.
“The babies will be lucky to be all wrapped up in quilts so obviously made with love. Melina and Rhys are lucky, too. I’m sure they’ll be grateful. Are they expectin’ the blankets, or is this a surprise?”
“Rhys and Melina know about the blankets, but Max doesn’t about his. Not yet.”
Grace’s eyes widened. Her first thought was, Won’t that be as useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle? “You made a blanket for Max?”
For the first time, Rachel frowned. “I made blankets for both my boys.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply… I mean, of course you’d make one for Max. Why wouldn’t you?”
Rachel’s expression smoothed and she smiled slightly. “I’m sure Max would recite several reasons. And I understand your reaction, Grace. Really. Despite the fact he’s dated his fair share of women and sowed more than his fair share of oats, most people expect Rhys to be a great dad, and I’m sure he will be. It’s Max who’ll surprise everyone when he finally gets to be a parent. He’ll be a fantastic uncle, but he’ll be an even better father. Even if he doesn’t quite believe it himself.”
Grace couldn’t imagine Max being insecure about anything, let alone whether he’d be a good father. Then again, she’d implied the same thing several times. She’d used Max’s playboy reputation and celebrity status to judge him even as she’d selfishly sought to use them for her own pleasure.
Grace handed the quilt back to Rachel, who was looking at her out of the corners of her eyes. Why? Because she wanted Grace to help convince Max he’d be a good father? Or because she wanted her to convince Max to be the father of her child?
She obviously had the wrong idea about them, just as Max had predicted.
“You know we’re just friends,” Grace said quickly.
“Oh, I know, dear. And sometimes that’s often the best way to start. Friends first, lovers second. Of course, the opposite happened with Jack and me. We were lovers first, friends second, and it’s turned out to be a fantastic relationship that’s lasted forty years. Whatever it is you have with Max, don’t underestimate it. I certainly won’t.”
Before a completely flummoxed Grace could respond, Rachel squeezed her arm. “Now, let’s go see what the guys are up to.”
***
Less than an hour later, Max and Grace were on the road back to Vegas. The more miles they traveled, the more intense the buzzing in Grace’s stomach became. She squirmed in her seat, feeling jittery and hot. Somehow seeing Max with his parents, but also with Houdini and Chloe, made her feel as though she’d been granted a rare privilege. Exactly the type of “gifts” Rachel alluded to earlier. She suspected she’d gotten an up-close-and-personal glimpse of the “real” Max Dalton in a way most people never did.
And what she saw, she really, really liked.
Respected.
Desired.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off Max. Her gaze fondled the strong column of his throat. The graceful competence of his hands on the steering wheel. The way his hair flirted with the tips of his ears so that her fingers itched to push it back, baring his flesh so she could nibble and lick to her heart’s content.
Good Lord, she was turned on. More turned on than when she gave him a blow job. More turned on than when she touched herself with him watching. With Max, there didn’t seem to be an end to the heights he could make her libido climb.
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. His rehearsals usually started an hour before his first show, which began at eight o’clock. With the amount of time the drive would take, they maybe had an hour tops to spare.
Not long enough at all, but still time she didn’t want to waste.
The buzzing inside her turned to tingling, and her breaths grew shallower. She suddenly felt light-headed, as though she would die if he didn’t put his mouth on her. Everywhere on her.
“Max,” she said. “Can you pull ovah?”
He looked over at her and frowned. “You feeling okay, Dixie?”
“I just really need you to pull ovah right now.” She was breathing so fast she was on the verge of hyperventilating.
She sensed the car slow but not stop. “You look flushed. Let’s find a place to get you a drink. There’s probably a—”
“I don’t want a drink, Max. I just want you to stop.”
“Grace—”
“Do you want me to beg? Because if that’s what you want, I will. I’ll do anything’ you want if you’ll just kiss me. Because I really want you to kiss you right now. I need you to kiss me.”
His body jerked and his knuckles whitened as he clutched the steering wheel. “Is kissing all you want?” he asked slowly, his voice deeper and rougher than just seconds before.
“I want whatevah you’ll give me.”
His jaw flexed. The car suddenly swung to the right. Max slowed, edged the car off the highway, and came to a stop, sending dust in their wake. He glanced around until his gaze settled on a dirt road about a tenth of a mile up. “Hold on.” Hitting the gas hard, he sent the car whipping forward. They careened down the dirt road for a few minutes until trees and brush hid them. Max slowed to a stop, put the car in park, then turned off the engine. Only then did he turn and look at her.
His eyes were feral.
His chest heaving.
His jaw clenched.
Faster than a hot knife through butter, she got her seat belt unfastened and practically threw herself at him.
Within seconds, they were outside the car, pressed against the hood, his mouth on hers, his hands buried in her hair, adjusting the angle of her head so he could kiss her deeper. She tugged his shirt out of his pants and immediately shoved her hands underneath, sighing with relief as she caressed the hard planes of his chest and brushed his nipples with the pads of her thumbs. He didn’t bother taking anything off her, just shoved her skirt up and ripped off her pink thong. She gasped and he paused, lifting his head to stare down at her with hooded eyes.
“If you want something more romantic than this, tell me now.”
Fast and furious, she thought, remembering what the brunette at Lodi’s had told her.
“Do you—do you you have a blanket in your car for this type of thing?”
It was the wrong thing to say. He jerked down her skirt then stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, Grace, regardless of what you think of me, I don’t make a habit of pulling to the side of the road and having sex with women. In fact, this will be my first time.”
He’d had a threesome but never…? She stepped closer and placed her palms on his shoulder. Went on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Well, I’m honored to be your first. Again. Now fuck me, Max. With your fingers. With your tongue. With everthin’ you have.”
“You mean that? You’re going to take everything I have to give you?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what your safe word is, Grace. I need to know you remember.”
“Mango,” she whispered.
Abruptly, he moved around her. Her heart squeezed with disappointment.
Until he opened his trunk and pulled out a snazzy-looking aluminum sun visor that was the size of a small blanket.
Grinning at her, he grabbed her hand and led her deeper into the trees until he found a spot he liked. He placed the sun visor on the ground.
Then he swept her up into arms and laid her gently on top of it.
“What do you want to do first, baby?”
“I thought you were in control?”
“I am. And I’m choosing to ask you what you want to do first.”
“Well, in that case, the first thing that comes to mind is you kissin’ me… in more than one place.”
It started with stealth moves, soft and slow, but progressively became deeper and longer and harder until she was clawing at his clothes and her own. Soon nothin' was between them and the sun but a smile, with him on his back and her positioned over him so they had their mouths on one another.
Lying outside naked, with his fingers and tongue inside her, with his cock in her mouth, she should have felt awkward. Self-conscious. All she felt was good. So good she never wanted it to end.
But it was going to.
Soon, if the tensing of her body was any indication. She was close.
And then she wasn’t.
She got cold. She couldn’t breathe. She pulled away from him. “Max, wait. You need to stop.”
He didn’t stop. He kept his face buried between her thighs, working her with fingers, tongue and teeth.
The cold started to recede. Her head fell back. She knew there was a reason she needed that cold. A reason to hold herself back from this man who had the power to hurt her more than any other man ever had.
She twisted, reached down, thrust her fingers in his hair and pulled hard. “Max. Stop.”
Twisting around so he was kneeling over her, his face above hers, he grabbed her wrists, and pinned them over her head with a one-handed grip. “I’m not going to stop, Grace, because you don’t want me to stop.”
“You have to—”
“You’re scared. You’re pulling back into your shell. But I’m not going to let you do it. I’m going to make you come.”
She shook her head wildly even as a voice inside her head whispered, Yes, make me come. Don’t let me stop you. Give me what I really want, Max. Give me you.
As if he read her mind, he said, “I’m going to force you to come.”
Her pussy contracted at his words and a gush of liquid trailed down her thighs.
He saw it. He felt it when he inserted his hand between her thighs and began fondling her. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me, Grace. You know why? Because it’s what you want, but it’s also what I want. What I want for you. And you are going to give it to me.”
He said the last sentence in short staccato beats, loosening his hold on her at the end. Then he slowly let go of her wrists altogether, his eyes daring her to move them. She didn’t. It was as if his words and the sheer power of his gaze and proximity continued to pin her down. Her body, bare from the waist down, was spread open for him, and she didn’t have the energy or the brainpower to fight what was happening. He scooted down her body, keeping eye contact with her the whole time.
“Spread your legs wider,” he commanded, then blew on her bare belly and pubic area. She jerked and whimpered, doing as he said, offering herself to him.
He gazed at her flesh until she was biting her lip to stop from screaming. Then he moved, burying his face between her thighs again, and she did scream.
Then he did exactly what he’d sworn he would.
He did everything she needed.
He sucked and nibbled on her clit. Licked her with long, strong strokes of his tongue and penetrated her with deep, slow thrusts of his fingers. He groaned and whispered to her as he did it, combining his beautiful voice with the sounds of raw, primal sex.
Her mind blanked, her body transforming into a fireball of pure sensation.
She forgot everything but what she was feeling and the fact it was Max making her feel it.
Before she even knew it was going to happen, he pushed her over the edge.
He made her forget her past and her insecurities, and all the times she’d told herself she shouldn’t want or need things that normal people didn’t want or need. He made her forget everything but him and the pleasure that built and built and built until she finally exploded into a million pieces.
Later, when she was able to breathe and move again, Grace scooted out of Max’s embrace. He let her go, watching her warily as she pulled on her clothes. When she was done, she stepped toward the car. Suddenly, his arms were around her waist, pulling her close so her back was pressed to his front. His naked body pressed eagerly against hers, and she barely stopped herself from moaning in anguished delight.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.
She immediately felt like a bitch.
“Was I too rough? Did I—did I do something you didn’t want?”
She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. “You did nothing wrong. You gave me exactly what I wanted, Max, and it was wonderful. I’m just… I’m just feelin’ a little shaken is all. You pack quite a punch.”
When she turned to stare straight ahead again, he sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head.
She crossed her arms over his, then took one of his hands, brought it to her lips and kissed it.
“You were right,” she said quietly. “Even though we didn’t string things out for long, the wait was well worth it.”
“I second that,” he said. He kissed Grace behind her right ear and continued to hold her. “Dixie—”
“I guess I can fly back to California earlier than I thought.”
He stiffened. Then he turned her in his arms to face him. “We’re not done, Grace.”
“What do you mean?”
“You planned to stay the week. There’s no reason you shouldn’t.”
“But you made me come,” she said.
He smoothed her hair away from her face, then touched her lips with his fingertips, which still smelled and tasted like her. “I made you come with my fingers and tongue. But I haven’t done my job until I’ve made you come every single way there is to do it. That didn’t feel half as good as much as it will when my dick is inside you.”