Chapter 18

Lia

“Damn, Lee-Lee.”

“What?” I grinned, secretly high-fiving myself. “I’m just looking for some clothes.”

Max groaned. “Warn a guy the next time you decide to go commando.”

“I did warn you. But you were too stubborn to leave.”

Laughing, I searched through my top drawer, fingering the silk of my panties until I finally found the ones. They were white and bikini cut with a pink bow on the front and two barely there strings on the sides. I called them my bridal panties because they reminded me of something a bride would wear on her wedding night.

“You act like you’ve never seen a girl’s naked ass before.”

He grumbled “Fuck me” under his breath and said out loud, “Well, usually the ass I’m looking at belongs to a girl I’m not interested in seeing. I’m a boob man usually…though that may be changing after this.”

My heart raced, and the sweat dampening my palms had me opening and closing my fists. When Max got nervous, his ridiculously sexy Tennessee twang would surface. It made the space between my thighs warm, which terrified the hell out of me. No doubt in my mind that I wanted Max, but what if he decided I wasn’t good enough? Tonight wasn’t about the future though. Tonight was about fun. Just hanging out, seeing where things went between us, that was all. We’d done the love declaration, but that didn’t mean we were diving into this as though we were days from getting married.

Hands shaking, I tugged the panties up and over my thighs, then leaned down and grabbed a T-shirt from the drawer below. It was midriff length and green, with the phrase I’m the kind of dirty you can’t wash off written across the front. After pulling on a pair of matching sleep shorts, I turned to face Max.

A nearly inaudible moan sounded from my futon as his gaze drifted over my body. Knowing that I affected him this way gave me the courage to be the seductress I didn’t think I could be.

“Did you order pizza?” Feigning innocence, I sat at my vanity with the oval mirror and ran a brush through my damp hair. The ends curled up slightly, probably because of the new color, but it worked, making me look like Marilyn Monroe.

“Pizza?” Max asked, his voice thin.

I stole another quick glance over my shoulder at him as I stood. Flat on his back with an arm draped over his eyes and a massive bulge in his pants, he looked like he was dying.

I cleared my throat. “I’m gonna grab some liquor.”

“Lick her?” He shot up.

My lips twitched. “Yeah. Liquor. Like, the stuff you drink from a bottle?”

He quickly put his feet on the floor to stand. “Shit, sorry, I forgot. I’ll grab—”

“It’s fine.” I smiled, placating him. “I’ve got it.”

For once, he didn’t argue or throw the chivalrous card at me, nor did he move from the futon. When I got back to the room, two Solo cups in hand and a bottle of Boone’s Farm tucked under my arm, he was still in the same spot, but this time his head was down and he was muttering something under his breath.

“Max.”

He lifted his head, watching me with hooded eyes as I set the cups on the cardboard box I used as a nightstand next to my bed. My heart thrummed in my ears as I popped the cork and began to pour. Chancing another look in his direction, I found his gaze on my chest, his lips parted.

“You’re gonna make me drink alone?”

“I’m not drinking that. Don’t you have any beer?” His eyes trailed over my body again, like he couldn’t help himself.

“It was part of a Christmas gift from Collin last year. It’s all I have. Sorry.”

“I’m gonna have to teach your brother some tact when it comes to gift giving, because this stuff tastes like shit.”

I didn’t complain. Alcohol was alcohol to me. But it was fun to play along and get Max all riled up. “I’m not about to waste something as delicious as Boone’s Farm, Maxwell. It’s the classiest drink on the planet.” I sat on the edge of the bed, handing him his drink while keeping a good hold on mine.

“Cheers.” I lifted my cup toward his, wasting no time as I downed the fizzy stuff in ten seconds flat. My throat burned and I shivered, but the sweetness on my tongue had me licking my lips. I poured another cup, glancing at Max once I was finished.

His eyes were wide and focused on my mouth. “I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

“You’re too easy.” I laughed.

He grunted, then moved forward, his lips curled higher on one side. The futon squeaked under his weight. “You gotta little…” His thick thigh brushed against my knee as he lifted his thumb to wipe the wetness off the corner of my mouth. My breath caught at the move. On instinct, I flicked my tongue out again. His dark eyes grew molten when I pressed the tip to his finger.

He cocked his head to the right and studied my mouth. “You gonna let me kiss you again tonight, Lee-Lee?”

A sizzle inched its way over my skin, down my arms and legs, between my thighs…

“Only if you want to,” I whispered.

“Fuck yeah, I wanna.” His eyes glazed. “I wanna do a lot of things to you, but kissing is where I need to start.”

Our eyes stayed locked, the ever-present chemistry crackling between us. My face and neck warmed. It reminded me of heat lightning in the summer, but feeling it instead of seeing it. The humid air, the intensity of thinking it was so close, yet so far away…

Not thinking twice, I leaned forward, going straight for his mouth. But his palm stopped me short, pressed between my breasts. My chest heaved. The space between my thighs grew hot and aching and far too frustrated.

“Tell me something first.” He set his still-full cup on the table, unnervingly calm.

My face grew hotter, whether from embarrassment or the alcohol, I didn’t know. “What’s that?”

He moved even closer, as though drawn to me, like I was to him. “When was the last time you were properly made love to by a man?” He touched my knee with his hand, slowly moving it up my thigh until he reached the edge of my panties.

Goose bumps danced across my inner thigh. “I-it’s been a while.”

He trailed his fingers down my cheek and over my chin, utter devotion in his gaze. “I don’t want to push you. Ever. I do something wrong, take something too far, you tell me, got it?”

I nodded, not willing to let Old Lia work her way tonight. I wanted Max to push me to my limits. Love me like he’d loved all the other women he’d been with. So I sucked in a slow breath and leaned forward, whispering over his mouth, “I’ve dreamed about you touching me nearly every night for years now. So, go ahead, Soldier Boy. Work your magic.”

“Woman.” He threw himself back on the futon, pulling me on top of him. I straddled his lap, rolling my hips against his. “You’re killing me.”

“Nah.” I tugged at the end of his shirt. Both of his hands went to my thighs as he zeroed in on my panties. “The dick dies along with the dead body, and you feel very much alive to me.”

He growled low in his throat, then tugged me close for a kiss. Moaning against his lips, I continued to rub slow, tantalizing strokes against his zipper, my breasts heavy against my shirt. He lifted a hand and palmed one, a tentative movement that was more of a tease than anything else.

He moved his other hand to my back, splaying his hands out against my spine. Over and over, he trailed his lips across my neck, my throat, my chin. “Gotta see your beautiful body.”

He tugged my top up with one hand—higher, and higher, and higher… “Gorgeous.” The shirt was off and he pulled back, trailing his finger over my tats.

“I wanna spend all night kissing every bit of this ink, you know that?”

In one sweep, he moved to lay me beneath him, only to drop his lips to the underside of my breast. “And these, damn…” He nuzzled his nose around my nipple just once, inhaling. “They’re perfect.”

I moaned, arching my back as I ran my fingers through his hair. I needed more. I needed it all. But Max was gentle, worshipping the space and ink surrounding my breasts with only his hands. Just when I felt like I was on the verge of cracking, he finally touched my nipple. Fingers hot, he trailed them around the beaded hardness. He squeezed lightly, then tugged, the pinch going straight to the center of my body. I ground my hips up, seeking relief, and he grumbled his appreciation, finally latching onto the peak of my breast with his lips.

“Max…” I moaned at the wet sensation, needing more, but needing him to stop at the same time. Parts of my brain were growing fuzzy and out of control. An unfamiliar warning voice popped into my ears. Stop while you’re ahead. I tried to push it down, but it wouldn’t go away. You’re not his first rodeo, cowgirl. This is what he thrives on in life, remember? My eyes popped open and I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. As good as this felt, as much as I wanted to keep going, I realized things were happening too fast. Not that I didn’t want a Mighty Max O again. It’s just that the what-ifs of him and me taking this to the next level were suddenly too overwhelming.

Stupid, logical Old Lia and her even stupider brain.

“Max, wait…” I pushed his chest, catching him off guard, only for him to fall onto the floor with a thud. I cringed and jumped down beside him. “Crap. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

His lips twitched in spite of the moment. His voice crackled as he said, “I might need a Band-Aid.”

There was a knock on the front door. The pizza man, most likely. When I was sure Max wasn’t going to pass out, I helped him sit up and then move to the futon.

“A Band-Aid?” I winced. “Are you bleeding somewhere?” I scanned his body, just as another knock sounded. He sighed. “It’s my knees, Lee-Lee.”

I crouched down in front of him and pulled the legs of his jeans up. “Like, what, rug burn?”

“Yeah.” He reached over and trailed a thumb over my chin. “I think I scraped them when I fell for you.”

Because I couldn’t help myself, I laughed and leaned into his touch before kissing his lips just once. “You’re truly made of magic, Mr. Martinez.” When all he could do was stare back at me with wide, puppy eyes, I patted his cheek and stood, then hunted around the room for some decent clothes to put on.