Alina
“I HOPE YOU like Italian,” Max called, as he came back into the kitchen, toting three full bags of food. I was relaxing on the couch with a glass of red wine, watching him as he placed the delivery on the island, his gaze briefly meeting mine before he reached for some plates and silverware.
It’d been a week since he’d told me about what really happened with his arrest. The raw emotion behind his words left no doubt on my end as to what type of man he was, the man I always guessed him to be.
I tried to convince my father to hire him back, but he refused to budge, just as I knew would be his reaction. He returned Max’s buy-in payment, however, without any issues. So at least Max could find another job and not have to worry about that piece of it.
I’d been coming to his place every night after work, staying clear of mine, simply because I had no idea if my father would just pop in. And explaining my decision to forge ahead with Max was the last thing I wanted to do. Any conversation about Max with my father would only lead to an argument. While I was prepared to defend my decision, I wanted more time with Max before doing so.
“I’m starving, so no matter what you ordered, I’m not going to have any issues.” As I was about to stand, Max came into the living room, carrying two dishes full of food, the smell so intoxicating my stomach rumbled, and rather loudly.
“You are hungry, aren’t you?” he teased, placing the plate on the coffee table. “Hold on, I’ll grab some trays.”
“Do you mean TV trays?”
“Yes. Why?” He grabbed two wooden trays from a hallway closet, striding toward me and plopping them open once he’d reached my side, placing my dinner on top and pushing it directly in front of me.
“I just didn’t take you for a TV tray type of guy,” I joked.
“They come in handy when you eat alone.” He tried to joke, but I detected a trace of loneliness in his voice, a vulnerability behind his eyes as he placed his own dinner on the tray.
As we ate, we talked about some of the cases I was handling, along with any updates I had about Tanya Glinn, to which I told him she and her two little ones were safe with her sister, her ex-husband still nowhere to be found, for the moment. Max regaled me with stories from his childhood, most of them having to do with his younger brother, Hal. He also told me he wanted to open his own firm, there in the city in the very near future.
The hours flew by, the intimacy between us increasing with each story told, and every dream revealed.
“You know you can just stay here, right?” Max offered, busying himself by clearing away our dinner and refilling my glass of wine. “Tomorrow is Saturday, so it’s not like you have to get up and go to work.” When he reentered the living room, he stood before me, his physique capturing my attention all over again. He’d been wearing the same outfit of relaxed jeans and a red T-shirt since I’d arrived, but for some reason, my hormones had kicked into overdrive.
Instead of responding to his offer, I boldly said, “I need to take some of these clothes off.” Max arched his brow. “I mean, I feel a little overdressed.” I was still wearing my work outfit, a knee-length black pencil skirt, and blush satin blouse. My suit jacket rested on the back of a chair, my heels littering the floor beneath it.
“By all means, take off your clothes.” Max smirked, the small dimple on his left cheek making him look innocent, when I knew the exact opposite was true.
“Very funny. Do you have something I could change into?” I proceeded to walk from the room and down the hallway, noticing the bare walls as I continued my travels. No pictures of any sort beset the area, as was true in the living room as well. I realized he’d recently moved in, but the man needed some lessons in décor.
Entering his personal space was intimidating. I’d had a quick tour of his entire apartment before, but standing next to his bed conjured up all sorts of illicit images, images I yearned for to come true.
There was no denying the chemistry between us, and I knew in my heart both of us wanted to take our relationship to the next level, only having held out because Max wanted to give me time to absorb all the information he’d told me about his arrest.
But enough time had passed.
I was more than ready.
So when he walked up behind me and nuzzled into the side of my neck, I released a moan I’d been holding on to the entire evening.
“Alina,” he whispered. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait. I know I told you to take all the time you need, but I’m suddenly becoming inpatient. Is that wrong?” He circled around me, his tongue sweeping over the column of my throat, the side of his face ever so scratchy, but I didn’t mind one bit. In fact, I loved the feel of it. Max had not shaved in days, and he looked more rugged than ever. He was a handsome man when clean-shaven, but there was something about the stubbled look that turned him from handsome to dangerously virile.
“No,” I breathily replied, finding it difficult to think.
“You didn’t really want to change into something else.” Challenging me with his stare, he slowly unbuttoned my blouse, the pads of his fingers drifting over my heated skin with each one. “You’re quite the tease.”
“I’m not a tease if I’m going to give you everything,” I countered, a coy smile changing my expression.
“Everything?”
Instead of answering, I pressed my lips to his, slow at first then feverishly when he ripped open the rest of my blouse and drew me closer, his hands resting on my back only to cleverly unhook my bra with the flick of his fingers.
“I need to see you.” He pulled back, the warmth of his breath drifting away only to make me gasp for air. Slowly, while keeping his eyes pinned to mine, he brushed the satin material from my shoulders, removing my bra and tossing it to the floor.
We’d shared the same air.
We’d indulged in our passion.
He’d licked away my desire.
Yet I’d never felt so bare.
So alive.
The way he looked at me made me feel like the sexiest woman alive, but he also made me feel self-conscious, if that made any sense.
“Say something.” I nervously laughed, crossing my arms over my chest because of his scrutiny. He peeled my arms away and gently placed them at my sides. As he lowered to his knees, he squeezed one breast while taking the other into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the tightened bud.
“You’re perfect.” He teased my other breast, his hands quickly unzipping my skirt. His movements became hurried, tearing my panties from my body before he slung my leg over his shoulder, placing his hand on my back to anchor me to him. I reached out for something to hold, but we were in the middle of his bedroom, nothing around for me to grasp to hold me steady. So instead, I gripped his thick hair and rode his face as he licked me.
I moaned his name over and over, the wanton desire inside me brimming hotter until I trembled at the very edge of bliss. Losing any shred of inhibition I had left, I writhed against his tongue, praying for my release to detonate, only for him to withdraw completely, stand, spin me around and briskly walk me toward his bed. He’d shed his shirt, the warmth of his skin igniting mine all over again.
As we stood by the edge of the bed, I reached behind me and hooked my arm around his neck, toying with the strands of his hair while he kissed my neck.
“I’m going to make you beg,” he promised, bending me over and placing my hands on top of the white comforter. “Don’t move.”
I heard the click of his belt buckle when it hit the carpet, then the rustle of his jeans as he discarded them. Instinctually, I knew he was naked behind me, and as he’d previously gazed on me, I wanted to take my fill of him.
I made to stand, but a quick bite of pain across my ass made me cease all movement. “Ow,” I mumbled.
“I told you not to move.” Massaging the affected cheek, he proceeded to move me back into position, palms flat on the bed.
“But I want to see you.”
“You will, but first I want to take in every angle of your incredible body.” His fingertips leisurely cascaded over my feverish skin, from the tops of my shoulders to my ankles. “Perfect,” he uttered once more, before opening a drawer next to the bed and pulling out a condom.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t put that on yet,” I pleaded, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder. “I want to taste you first.”
“Far be it from me to argue with you.” His smirk disappeared as I spun around and dropped to my knees.