I don’t even know what to say about what I just witnessed.

My mother and father were the epitome of loving parents. They loved having kids. They were keenly interested in each one of our individual interests, and in our happiness. My father was always going to my softball games, or making sure I was doing all right. Maybe we didn’t have a lot of money, but we’d have long talks, each night, about how life was. They gave each one of us unlimited time. And as I grew, I felt like we only grew closer.

That man, dying in there? He treated Max like a virtual stranger. No, worse than that. He acted like he hated him.

How can anyone hate their own blood?

I find myself completely flummoxed, replaying Mr. Winchester’s warning in my head as we walk silently to the limo. Max is a snake? He’s going to bring me down? He only thinks for himself?

That is far from the Max I know.

He and his father might not think that caring for others is in his destiny. He called himself a heartless, too. But I think he has a huge heart, capable or love. The Max I know is giving, and kind, and . . .wonderful.

“Well, that was fucking miserable,” Max says once we’ve slid into the back of the limo.

“I’m sorry,” I say, horrified by the whole thing. His father was a complete . . . jerk to him. I can’t imagine having grown up in a house that stiff, that much like a mausoleum. No wonder he hates going back there. “Do you think it was me?”

He shakes his head and says, his voice bitter, “No. It’s not your fault. It’s probably my fault for thinking I could ever change his mind.”

He pours himself a scotch, downs it in one large gulp, as the limo takes off through mid-town, headed for the George Washington Bridge. Then he pours himself another. At this hour of night, the traffic is fairly light, so I know we’ll make good time on the way home. He’s on his third before the signs for the bridge even come in sight. Even if we do make good time, he’ll be smashed by the time I leave the limo.

I don’t want to leave him. Not like this. Not with that wild look in his eyes, hell bent on destruction.

“Why does he treat you like that?” I say softly. “It was like he wanted to punish you.”

He lets out a huff of laughter. “He does,” he says pensively, staring into the glass of scotch between his legs.

“But for what?”

He looks at me, and a small, mournful smile comes on his face. “For being someone else’s son.”

I stare at him. “I don’t understand. You said . . . I didn’t. . .”

He lets out a small, bitter laugh. “You didn’t know? Well, no one knows, really. It’s a carefully guarded secret of the Winchester family,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “I told you my father was never around. The business was his life. My mother couldn’t take it. She had affairs with a string of men, most of them married. Who, I don’t know. When she became pregnant with me, the affairs came out, and my father vowed to change his ways. They pretended I was his own. But then Dan came along, and it became very clear that he was playing favorites.”

“You and Dan are . . . half brothers?”

He nods. “Yep. He didn’t tell me until I was much older that I wasn’t his son. But by then it was glaringly obvious. I was sent away to boarding school, Dan was kept at home. Dan had huge birthday parties, I got a small dinner with just the family. My father would bounce Dan on his knee, and he never did that to me. That kind of thing.”

I clasp my hand over my mouth. So all of this, running the business, making it into a massive dynasty . . . it wasn’t for any other reason than to impress his father. And him not wanting a wife? It was because the women he’d been closest to had been unfaithful. “I’m sorry,” I say.

He shrugs. “Oh, well. And that’s my life.” Then he shakes his head and looks out the window. “It was a shit thing to do, to think that me having a wife would make any difference. I can’t. No matter what I do.”

“So, that’s it, then?”

He looks at me, his brows knit. “No, that’s fucking not it. I’m not giving up.”

I can only imagine what other schemes he has in store. Maybe those schemes are why his father thinks he’s such a snake. Maybe, rather than stooping low, he should just cut his losses now. “Would it be so bad, to be second in command at Winchester?” I ask him gently.

He looks out the window, pondering that. I can tell he’s not one to often swallow his pride, and working under his little brother would probably be difficult. “Of course. It would be hell.”

“But you’re not completely out. Dan will obviously need you, since he doesn’t know the business at all.”

“I’d fuck the business over before I told him anything,” he growls. “I’m not going to let it happen. Even if it doesn’t make a difference with him, I’m going to fight for it. Fuck!”

He grips his glass so hard that I think it might crack in his palm.

I put a hand on his knee. “Please, Max.”

He nods. “I’m sorry. I’m just not at my best right now.”

I slip the ring off her finger, and hand it to him. “But it is it for me, right? You don’t need me, anymore. It doesn’t make sense to continue.”

He takes the ring, holding it in his hand, staring at the many brilliant diamonds glowing in the streetlights above. Shaking his head slowly, he looks at me. I’ve never seen him look so wounded before. He pockets the ring and murmurs, “Sometimes I think you’re the only thing that does make sense in my life, Lily.”

And just like that, I see the real him, the one who isn’t all ego and bluster. He isn’t the man that his father has built him to be, the one who doesn’t care about anything but making money. Maybe he can’t make a difference with his father, but I know there is something I can do, at least. It might be small, and it might only help him for a bit, but I am desperate to try it. To help him.

I lean scramble up, onto my knees, and lean over to give him a soft kiss, just brushing my lips lightly over his.

It catches him by surprise. He puts down the scotch, straightens, sitting up more, tensing, and I can sense his hesitancy. I place a hand on his chest. I lean over and put my mouth on his lips again. He exhales. “Lily, what are you doing . . . ?”

I kiss him again, this time, my tongue probing its way into his mouth. He kisses me back, his hand tangling in my hair. I push his jacket off, unknotting his tie, working each button to the caramel skin beneath. I breathe in that heady sweet smell of his cologne, as he pushes against the backrest, allowing me to roll on top of him, straddling his lap on my knees. His hands find my ass.

His body, so strong against mine, is like a wall of heat. I can’t believe I’m so close to him, that everything I’ve wanted is just here, waiting for me, close enough to touch and taste and experience. And like a kid in a candy store, I want it all. I run a finger down a sculpted muscle, to the rise of his nipple, and the tendons twitch in response. Oh. That’s amazing.

When I look in his eyes, that tortured, miserable look is gone. He’s gazing at me with something like awe. Like he can’t believe innocent Lily can be here, touching him this way. “Is this okay?” I ask him nervously.

He nods. “Better than that.”

“I mean, I’ve been wanting to do this. I can’t help it.”

He nods, playing with a lock of my hair. “Perfect. Now you know how I feel.”

I let out an uneasy laugh. “You wanted this?”

“Well, let’s put it this way. Those texts? The ones where I told you what I wanted to do to you? It wasn’t fiction.”

Oh my goodness. Heart beating out of control, I focus on his skin, now golden in the streetlights passing by overhead in a blur. “Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

His lips part, and he sucks in a breath. The awe-filled expression has morphed once again, and now there is a stark, white-hot hunger in his eyes. “Not possible.”

I sit back on his knees, grab the hem of my dress, and pull it over my head, so that I’m in just my bra and thong. I cast the dress aside and shake out my hair, not feeling ashamed at all. I want him to see me. I want him to know me, the way no one else ever has.

His eyes trail lazily down my body. He takes a finger and touches the heart necklace that’s in the hollow of my throat. His fingertip is hot, pulsating, making me shiver as he draws it low, down to my breastbone. “Gorgeous, Lily. You’re beautiful.”

His finger slowly traces a path down to my belly, where I have a small gold ring. He touches is. “This is very unexpected for a sweet little untouched virgin,” he says, his voice teasing.

“I got it during freshman Spring Break from college,” I explain to him. “When I was young and had not a care in the world. A lifetime ago, I guess.”

“I like it.” He’s still fingering it slowly, his every touch sending electric sparks into my core. “I like it very much.”

I’m hit with the first pangs of nervousness as I feel his erection grow ever harder between my legs. “What do I do now?”

“Anything you like,” he says to me, his eyes raking hungrily over my curves.

“I’m . . .” I suck in a breath and let it out. “Would you touch me?”

“Take-off your bra,” he instructs me.

Powerless to do anything but what is commanded of me, I reach behind my back, unhook the bra, and let it fall from my body.

His eyes widen slightly, and he licks his lips. He reaches out and touches my breast, very gently, as if he’s sure I’ll disappear the second he makes contact. He cups it, gazing at it with deep passion, the weight of his eyes heavy on my body. I feel like I might break apart from the need of him.

“Goddamn, Lily. These are the most exquisite tits I’ve ever seen.”

He dips his head down and licks at my nipple. The flick of his tongue sends a dagger of pure delight spasming deep inside me. I’ve never felt anything so intense.

Then he opens his mouth and sucks on it as I arch my back, responding to the desire welling inside me. He cups my other breast and starts to move his mouth on my skin, and God, that tongue. It’s enough to make me lose all sense. “Your skin is so sweet,” he mumbles. “Like candy, Lily.”

His warm breath ripples on my skin. I thread my fingers through his thick hair and hold him there as his mouth gets hungrier and wilder. “Keep going,” I urge him. “Max. I don’t want to stop.”

He stops and looks up into my eyes. “Lily, are you sure? Here?”

I nod.

He fumbles with the control panel at his right and manages to get the intercom button. “Earl,” he says, his voice breathless. “Change of plans. Take us to my place.”

Then he lifts me easily and places me down upon the bench seat, rolling atop me. And now it’s his skin, hot and slick against mine, his full weight, pressing into me. He’s still kissing my breasts, molding and squeezing them, making me squirm with anticipation. His tongue flicks its way down my breastbone, to my navel. And then he runs his tongue over my belly ring, licking and sucking on it. I let out a shaky breath as I watch him.

His fingers find the band of my panties. He slowly tugs them down, and I lift my ass to allow him to pull them down my legs and to my ankles.

“Spread yourself for me, Lily. Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs, tossing the thong aside as he gazes lustily at my cunt. His hands delve between my legs, spreading me wide, and I’m open to him. I love it. I love the feel of his breath on me. It’s a million times more intense than I thought it would be. I find myself trembling, thinking of how his tongue will feel when it’s on me. “You’re beautiful. I need to taste you there. Okay?”

I nod shyly. “Well, I’ve never—“

“I know. It’s all right,” he says. And I know it is. For some reason, I feel bold, comfortable, because I initiated this. I’m doing this on my terms. And though he’s used to being in control, I feel like he is powerless to do anything but work to please me.

Nibbling on my inner thigh, he gradually works his way upward, his breath raising each and every goosebump along the way. When he reaches the place where my legs meet, he kisses the trimmed hair of my pubis. I feel his hands slide under my ass, lifting me to him, and before I can back out, he begins to kiss my folds.

I know this isn’t all, but it feels like the pinnacle. I can’t imagine a better feeling. This, alone, is enough to make my heart beat nearly out of my chest. If there’s more, I’m sure to explode. And yet every second that passes unfurls a new level of ecstasy. My hand tenses and he must see it because he grabs it at the same time he flicks his tongue over my clit.

I throw my head back, speechless and exhilarated. Then his tongue finds a rhythm, licking its way around my flesh. My whole body tingles with feeling. “Oh, my gosh . . .” I murmur.

“Good?” he mumbles, but I can’t bring myself to say anymore. Because just then, his tongue spears inside me, forcing a moan from my throat.

No. More than good. Phenomenal.

I bite my tongue as his explorations get wilder, as I start to feel my own wetness, trickling out of me. The blood is pumping madly through my body. He’s going to make me come, and fast. And I love it. I love it so much; I have no idea why I waited this long.

Lifting my ass from the bench, he continues to circle my clit ravenously with his tongue. Then he brings the whole of my cunt to his mouth, sucking deeply on it, making me cry out.

I look down at him, at the lower half of his face, buried between my thighs. At the look of pure, hungry enjoyment he’s getting from this, from giving me pleasure. Those blue eyes are locked on mine, heavy lidded and animalistic. That’s all I need to send me over the edge of oblivion.

When I come, I try to muffle the noise, by biting on my fist to muffle my scream, but he grabs my wrist from my mouth. He wants me to scream, so I do. I moan loud enough to rock the car, thrashing against the seat, throwing myself back with abandon as the waves of pleasure course through my body, again and again.

“OH, my gosh,” I whisper as he snakes up next to me and lays his body against mine. His face is wet and glistening, his gaze hot on me. He has me on his face, my taste. I kiss him hard, and his tongue and mouth are on fire from me, filled with my musky, pungent essence. That he can’t get enough of that taste, that he sucked on my clit like a greedy, hungry animal, is enough to make this kiss deeper and more erotic than any I’d ever experienced.

“You’re perfect,” he tells me, fingering my belly ring once more, cupping my tits again. “Even more beautiful than I even imagined. And trust me, I imagined you a hell of a lot.”

“You did?” I’d blush if I wasn’t flushed all over, feeling my body come down from the orgasm. I’m shivering and satisfied, but not nearly satisfied enough.

But just then, the limousine slows to a stop. He pushes up to his knees and looks outside the darkened windows. “This is our stop, Lily.”

I look around, finding my dress, and hold it to my breasts.

“But I don’t want to stop,” he adds, looking at me. “Come up to my apartment with me.”

I smile. “Yes. I don’t want to stop, either.” I reach over and run a finger down his open shirt, then play with a button. “I want to be fucked by you.”

He blinks, the hunger deep and full in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Any way you want to fuck me,” I tell him. “Even if you want to be kinky and tie me up somewhere. Or spank me.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary. If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it on my bed, okay?” he says. “No interruptions. Because I’m going to want to be with you all night long.”

I nod my heart beating out of my chest from the way he’s looking at me.

I put the dress over my head, settling it down over my hips so I’m presentable, and he pockets my bra and panties. Finding my heels, I slip into them, as his eyes graze my breasts. My dark nipples and pubic hair are visible beneath the pale pink. He touches one, and instantly, it hardens, making it worse. Then he takes his jacket and drops it over my shoulders. I savor the delicious woodsy-citrus scent, and it only makes me wetter for him. “Come on.”

He pushes open the limo door and we’re in a part of the city that looks a bit familiar. I think it might be the Upper West Side, where the Suitors Club is. He guides me to a set of revolving doors, and to a bank of elevators, giving a wave to the old woman at the front desk, who calls, “Have a great day, Mr. Winchester!”

Great day? All I can think is that this is probably the best, most enthralling day of my life. His hand is on mine, and he’s doing those comforting circles on my palm. Anyone who is looking at us must know what we’re headed for, from the flush in my cheeks and the way I’m wearing his jacket to the way his normally perfect hair is slightly rumpled. As the elevator doors open, he guides me inside, pressing the button and cornering me against the gleaming mirrored walls. Forehead pressed against mine, he stares intently into my eyes as if I’m the only woman left in the world.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, pressing the number. I look over his shoulder and see it. Twenty-four.

The penthouse, of course. Max Winchester does nothing but the best. I frown.

“What?” he asks, his mouth readying to descend onto mine.

“We have to wait twenty-four floors,” I pout. “I don’t know if I can.”

“We don’t have to,” he says, a wicked look in his eyes, before kissing me hungrily, caged between his forearms.

But before the elevator doors can close, a group of women run up to the door, putting their hands in just at the last moment. They’re oblivious to us, as they’re so busy engaged in a conversation about somebody’s wedding. Instantly, the elevator is filled with the competing scents of their perfumes.

Max looks over his shoulder and frowns at them, then smiles at me and shrugs. “To be continued,” he mouths into my ear, before separating from me and putting his hands at his sides, like a good boy.

We spend the next few minutes standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind the women, innocently watching the digital display over the door count the floor, when all I can really think about is having his hands on me. He must know what I’m thinking, because within moments, I feel his hand caress my backside, kneading it for a moment before sliding under the dress.

I’m bare there, so he has plenty of room to roam. He runs his finger back and forth on the crack of my ass, and when I part my feet, he finds his way between my legs. Meanwhile, the women continue their gunfire conversation, never stopping to take breath.

I watch Max’s wolfish grin in the mirrored doors, see my own lips part and emit a gasp as he lightly rubs his fingers over my clit. He probes further, inserting a finger into me, then two. I’m so wet I can feel the juices dripping down my thighs. When the elevator dings and the doors begin to slide open, I’m rocking back and forth, ever so slightly, on his fingers, feeling dirty and yet so fucking hot.

The women all leave, without even a glance back at us. That’s a good thing, because I’m sure they would’ve had a heart attack, seeing that Max hasn’t removed his fingers from my cunt, and my dress is up high on my thighs. I’m shameless, though. I want whatever he wants to give me.

Maybe I am the kinky girl he wanted.

“Thought they’d never leave,” he says, pushing the Door Close button and turning to me even before they’ve fully shut. He looks into my eyes. “You’re okay with this?”

His hand is still wrapped around my backside and continues to work my cunt, his thumb making soft, circular movements over my clit. It’s a mind-blowing feeling. My whole body is buzzing. I can’t even think. What is he talking about? “What?”

“With all of this. With me touching you like this?”

“God,” I groan, throwing my head back so he can have at my neck. His lips graze my throat, and I gasp as his fingers find their way under the dress, caressing my ass, sending fireworks of intense pleasure through my body. “If you stop now, Max, seriously. I’ll kill you.”