Chapter 15

Sarah had never been too troubled by nightmares. She’d had bad dreams before, ones she’d wished she could forget, sure. The stress-spurred, irrational variety that reared their ugly heads from time to time over the years: a ghoul chasing her through quicksand that was about to seep into a laptop with the only copy of her final paper stored on the hard drive, a presentation to deliver and the horrifying realization that all the data had changed overnight and nothing she’d prepared was current, Cory walking into her office and informing her he was her new boss and she’d accidentally married him after all.

That business where her brain screwed with her during off hours usually sent her pulse racing, and when she woke, it was typically with a gasp as she bolted upright in her bed.

That kind of traditional bad dream she could take, because when it was over, she’d run her fingers over the cool sheets, grounding herself in the comfort of what was real and the knowledge that what wasn’t was already fading from her mind.

What she’d woken from this morning had been nothing like that. To begin with, there’d been no silent scream or full-body lunge thrusting her into a waking state. She’d been still, quiet, blissfully drifting beneath the warm breeze as Max dropped a circle of kisses around the full swell of her belly. Their fingers had been threaded together, and when he smiled up at her, she’d known with soul-deep certainty that somehow she’d found everything that mattered. That she had as much happiness as one life could provide.

Then she’d blinked. Just opened her eyes into the darkness of predawn, not understanding where the sunny afternoon had gone, why the sheers weren’t billowing into the room. Her smile fell away as the soft sheets grounded her in a reality she found no relief in. Her hand moved to the flat of her stomach and she felt gutted, the sense of loss greater than anything she could remember.

Because in this reality, the Max sleeping with his arm thrown over her and his head in her hair didn’t love her. They hadn’t been married for three years and weren’t counting the days until the miracle growing inside her was finally in their arms. The house that had been filled with light and love and laughter was a mostly empty shell Max owned alone and looked forward to moving on from.

None of it was real.

She tried to close her eyes, hoping she’d drift back into the world she’d just lost, because more than anything, she wanted that perfect peace back, if only for another ten minutes. She wanted Max to murmur in her ear that she was his. That he loved her. Only there was no going back. She was awake. And this wasn’t forever.

Silently, she pulled back the sheet and padded into the kitchen, where she stood at the sink with a glass of water and waited for her brain to rewire itself. For reality to become the relief, because this, what she actually had right now, was exactly what she wanted. The perfect job lined up in a city she’d been salivating over for years, and a stint with a sexy, generous, highly skilled bad boy warming her bed in the meantime. There were no complications. No questions. No letdowns or betrayals or expectations for anything beyond what they had that very minute. It was perfect and safe, and it was supposed to make her feel like she had in that dream.

A floorboard creaked behind her, and then Max was there, his strong arms wrapping around her.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep. Comforting.

Setting the glass on the counter, she turned to him and pressed her face against the warm skin of his chest. “Just a nightmare.”

He stroked her hair and held her closer. Rested his chin on the top of her head so they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. “Mmm, come back to bed. Whatever it was isn’t real.”

She swallowed past the knot in her throat. “I know.”

It wasn’t real. Even if she suddenly wanted it to be.

Max took her back to bed, tucked her into the warmth of his body, and held her close and tight as she waited for sleep to return. Only instead of falling back into that taboo dream world, she lay there thinking about how Max’s arms felt around her. How she’d started anticipating seeing him at the end of the day, wanting to share the details of the hours they’d spent apart, knowing he’d laugh about the prank housekeeping had pulled.

She thought about how she’d gotten so used to seeing him in the morning. How he’d rub his big hand over his head, trying to wake up as he poured coffee and asked her what her day looked like. How sometimes, for no reason at all, he pulled her in for a hug and just held her close. How he made her feel wanted. How he made her feel wonderful. She thought about how she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to wake up with this man every day and feel loved.

This wasn’t working.

“Sorry, Max,” she whispered, inching out of his hold. “Think I’m just awake now.”

“Want me to get up with you?” He was already pushing the covers aside, completely willing to get up with her at four fourteen. Definitely not helping the cause. “We could walk the lakefront or grab some breakfast.”

“No, no. Just rest.” She pressed him back with a hand at his shoulder. “We’ll get something when you’re up.” And until then, she’d work. Spend some time doing what she loved to do best. Reminding herself why she loved it.

Only the work didn’t help. In fact, it might have actually made the situation worse. Sarah spent the next three hours failing to accomplish anything, and worse yet, every time she’d had to forcibly drag her thoughts away from the bedroom down the hall, she’d resented it.

Which. Was. Insane.

The dream stuck with her all day. The emotions it stirred stayed fresh and sharp in her mind. By evening, she was about ready to jump out of her skin. A part of her—the rational, reasonable part—knew the answer was getting out of there. Getting some distance and maybe a little perspective. But the other part of her wouldn’t hear of it, choosing instead to stay close to Max, because soon enough she wouldn’t be able to.

“What are you thinking for dinner?” he asked that evening, one muscular arm braced against the doorframe to the kitchen. He was wearing a Red Hot Chili Peppers T-shirt that, thanks to his stance, didn’t quite reach the worn jeans hanging criminally low on his hips. It was calendar-quality stuff.

But was she thinking about dropping to her knees and worshipping that insanely hot inch of bared skin the way it deserved? No. She was thinking she felt every kind of screwed up and that nothing would be better than walking up to Max and sliding her arms around his ribs while she buried her face against his chest and just breathed him in.

He looked like sex on a stick. And she wanted a hug.

“Sarah?” he asked when she didn’t answer him. Then he was walking over to her, giving her exactly what she wanted—the hug. The comfort. The support. The exact opposite of what she needed, which was a less-perfect man. Someone it wouldn’t kill her to walk away from.

“You seem tense. What’s going on?” Rubbing his big hands over her arms, Max dropped a kiss at the crook of her neck. “Talk to me.”

What was going on was that she’d had a glimpse into a life she’d never let herself consider. A life she couldn’t have and wasn’t supposed to want. Because this thing with Max was about sex. Fine, more than sex, but absolutely unequivocally less than what was suddenly slithering through her mind.

Maybe that was the problem. The solution? Heck, she didn’t know. Maybe what she needed was to take away some of the tenderness and focus on what had brought them together in the first place. She needed to put this relationship back where it belonged—on sexy ground.

Turning to him, she reached for the back of his neck and tugged him down to her. “I don’t want to talk.”

Max’s mouth met hers in a soft press, tender and sweet, his arms circling her back and holding her close. It was the kind of embrace that had caused the temporary short circuit in her brain, and she didn’t want any part of it.

Pulling back, she nipped at his mouth and then kissed him again, harder. Max’s brows drew together, his eyes going dark.

“That’s what you want?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

No. It wasn’t what she wanted, but tonight it was what she needed. Max had promised to show her everything he knew about sex, and what she needed to learn now was how to get her emotions out of it. How to make it about her body and not her heart.

Pressing her hands against his chest, she gave him a shove, one that didn’t move him an inch until he willingly stepped back. Sarah whipped her shirt overhead and tossed it on the floor, refusing to meet Max’s searching eyes.

She didn’t want him to see what she wasn’t ready to acknowledge herself. The emotions she’d somehow let out of the box from eight years ago. The ones Max had warned her about that day in front of the Science Building, when he’d caught her watching him too intently. She’d been standing there wondering how things could be so easy and right between them, how she could be feeling everything she was feeling, if there wasn’t something more than friendship at play.

But when she’d asked him, Max’s answer had come in no uncertain terms.

No.

He hadn’t wanted those feelings then, and they weren’t fair now. The arrangement between them had been clearly defined, and falling in love wasn’t part of it.

Something she’d do well to remember.

Slipping her thumbs into the waist of her cropped jeans, she flipped the button and lowered the zipper. Her hips shifted from side to side, as she eased the jeans past her thighs to where they dropped to the floor.

Stepping free of the denim, she asked, “What are you waiting for?”

The question seemed to snap Max into action. Suddenly he was stripping with an economy of motion that had her mouth watering and the heat churning low in her center. His shirt landed beside hers, his jeans, belt, and boxer briefs a few feet away. Then he was advancing on her, naked and beautiful, those heavy muscles flexing with each step. Her breath hitched as he caught her around the waist and hauled her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him and shoved her fingers into his hair, holding on as his mouth slammed down on hers.

His tongue was thrusting deep, his hold on her ass just this side of rough as he held her, rocking her over his shaft. Her back met the wall, and mmm, it felt so good. She wanted him inside her, hammering against that spot that made her mindless. She wanted him slamming into her so hard he drove the tenderness away.

She could do this.

She could keep her heart out of it.

But then Max released her mouth, his breath coming hot and ragged against her jaw and throat. “Fuck, Sarah, what are you doing to me?”

And she felt that pang deep in her chest. That twist and churn deep inside.

She couldn’t let him talk to her, not when they were like this. Even knowing not to read anything into his words, just the gravelly sound of his voice was too much for her.

“Don’t make me wait,” she panted, squeezing him closer with her legs and using her forearms on his big shoulders as leverage to move against him.

Pushing off the wall with Sarah wrapped tight around him, Max turned toward the bedroom—toward the bed he’d bought so her first time wouldn’t be on a mattress on the floor or in a hotel room. Because he wanted it to be special for her.

Shaking her head, she nipped his jaw. “Not the bed.”

Those heated eyes met hers. He was looking too close.

“I don’t want soft tonight.” She couldn’t take it.

“No?”

She shook her head and levered herself against him again, her eyes drifting closed at the wet friction from Max’s thick cock sliding between the spread of her sex.

A second later, her bottom met the solid top of his kitchen table.

Releasing her hold from around his neck, she planted her hands behind her.

Legs spread, heart pounding, she waited for him to retrieve the condom from his discarded wallet. He rolled it on, but instead of driving into her the way she’d expected, he dropped to his knees.

Eyes gone wide, she tried to scramble back. “No, that’s not—”

But then Max had her by the backs of the knees and was towing her to the table’s edge. “Don’t worry,” he said from where he was licking his lips between her legs. “I’m not going to be gentle.”

Sarah about combusted on the spot, because that was just the kind of promise she needed.

His mouth covered her sex, greedy and hot. He sucked and licked, sucked harder and bit softly, but not too softly. His thumbs were at either side of her sex, holding her open, as he devoured her with hungry intent. It was too much, too intense, exactly what she needed.

With his mouth covering that dangerous bundle of nerves that seemed to be connected to every far corner of her body, he gave her another breath-stealing suck that took her to the edge and launched her over.

“Max!”

She was still coming hard, as he stood and leaned over her. Gripping her hip, he thrust full length, filling her with everything she could take. She gasped, her breath punching out as he pushed in. Sensation rushed through her, flooding her senses and short-circuiting her resolve. Her inner walls pulsed around his slow retreat. He thrust again, giving her even more, pushing into her so hard and deep she swore she could feel him everywhere.

“Again,” she begged, caught in the dark intensity of his eyes. “Like that.”

This was what she needed. Physical. Release.

Another slow withdrawal pulled and teased every tender nerve. Another measured pause. “So beautiful, baby.” Another driving thrust left her filled to overflowing with the man who was making her want more than she could have.

She could feel him everywhere—in the pressure where he met that deepest spot within her, in the decadent stretch from taking him, and the almost painfully hard beating of her heart. Each ragged breath reminded her of just how badly she wanted him.

He dragged his length from inside her, easing that too-intense pressure by teasing her with the slightest push and pull, until she begged him, “Max!”

Shoving deep, he grunted as his groin trapped that pulsing sweet spot between them. Her inner channel spasmed, wrenching tight around him. “Like that, baby?”

So much.

“More,” she whispered desperately. Because she couldn’t fight what was happening. She wanted to feel him everywhere. She wanted to ache from him for days.

He was thrusting in earnest now, making her clench and shake, giving her everything she’d asked for and more. “Too gentle for you?”

She was so wet. So slick. So full. “No.”

“You sure?” His voice was like the most seductive threat. A sensual warning. He angled his head next to her ear. “Or do you want me to fuck you harder?”

She clenched around him, the spasm almost brutal in its intensity. Crying out, she nodded desperately, begged almost incoherently until she managed the necessary words. “Do it. Harder.”

The sound that ripped from Max’s chest was the sexiest she’d ever heard, and then he was shafting ruthlessly inside her, again and again, catapulting her over the edge once more. Watching her as she fell and then catching her with the gentle rock of his hips.

“Jesus, Sarah, it’s never like this for me.” Pressing his forehead against hers, Max held her tight. “How the hell am I going to let you go?”

She closed her eyes against his words, but they were already too deep inside her. For the first time in a long time, the goal she’d set her sights on was out of reach. Beyond her ability. Because this wasn’t just a physical encounter, and that flimsy defense she’d tried to erect around her heart wasn’t holding.

She loved him. And there was no coming back from that.

* * *

“Where’s Sarah?” Brody asked as Max walked into the bar Wednesday night.

As questions went, this one ranked benign at best, but still it rubbed in a way Max wasn’t exactly thrilled about. Mostly because he kept thinking it himself. Why wasn’t she there? The answer was simple.

“Back at Piper’s place tonight.” The bar was more crowded than it usually was on Wednesday, and he had to speak up to be heard as they walked back to the table.

“Shoulda brought Piper too. Bit of a firecracker, that one.” Brody rolled three darts between his palms, a wicked glint in his eyes. “She could give our girl Molly a run for her money.”

Max glanced up and saw his little sister with her hands wrapped around Sean’s neck, fake strangling him as the guy made a show of squinting up his eyes and sticking his tongue out. “Yeah, she could. But Piper’s not even there. Sarah’s parents live back in North Carolina, and they just got home from a cruise. She wanted to call and figured her mom might keep her on the line a few hours talking about the trip and catching up.”

She could have done it from his place and been there when he got home. He’d have been happy to stick around and work upstairs—give her space for her call, then order in some dinner after. But she’d passed.

Totally fine. Not a problem.

Only the tightening of the muscles across his shoulders not only called him a liar, but made him feel like a jackass too. Because seriously, he didn’t own her. It was good she had a life outside him. He loved how independent she was. Besides, they were still a few weeks from when she’d leave for New York. He just couldn’t help thinking about each passing day taking them closer to when he wouldn’t be able to see her at all.

It sucked, and he felt like a pussy. Especially since Sarah wasn’t taking her impending departure quite the same way. Up until Saturday, he’d thought they might be in the same bittersweet boat—both wanting everything they could have until good-bye finally came. But then, he didn’t know.

Jase and Emily were standing across the table from Sean and Molly, their fingers caught in a loose hold that caused a pang in his chest. Yeah, total pussy.

“Hey, guys, Emily.”

“How’s it going, man?” Jase asked, stepping closer to his wife to make room for Brody and Max. “Big day of bringing down the bad guys?”

“Nah, word’s out that I’m on the street.” Max nodded for Brody to throw first. “We’re expecting the criminal element to lay down their arms and get in line.”

Sean let out a short laugh, then straightened, his expression blanking as he went for his phone.

Molly sat back, brow raised. “Five bucks it’s his dad.”

“Nobody’s taking that bet,” Brody said, setting the darts down rather than starting the game.

Sean shot them an apologetic look and signaled to give him five. No one minded. The hotel was more than his job, and Sean Wyse II was more than just his dad.

“You have a chance to look at that order we talked about last night?” Molly asked, turning to Brody when Sean headed toward the front door.

He pulled a face and shook his head. “Sorry, Mol. Run in back with me now, and we’ll take care of it.” Then because it was Brody, and the guy couldn’t help but be the hostess with the mostest, he leaned back over the table. “Want me to have Jill bring you guys anything?”

“I’m good,” Max answered as Jase and Emily declined in kind. Then Em got a call too, and like that, it was just Max and Jase.

Jase picked up the darts and gave Max a wicked look. “Hope you’ve got some tissues.”

Grinning, Max stood and crossed his arms. They were pretty evenly matched but seldom went head-to-head. “Sorry, man, you’ll just have to use your sleeve.”

They threw a few rounds, volleying trash talk because it didn’t get any better than that. Then Jase stepped up to the line and tossed. “How long’s Sarah got left in Chicago?”

Max rolled his shoulder. “Not long enough.”

Jase’s head came up with a start.

“What? I’m into her,” Max said, defending himself and wondering what was so surprising. “It’s fucking good between us.”

Jase patted down the air. “No, I can see that. Just didn’t expect you to see it too. I’m happy for you, Max. She’s a great girl, and seeing you guys together is awesome. You thinking about trying the long-distance thing when she goes?”

This time it was Max going traffic stop with his hand in the air. “No. Not a chance. That shit never works, and from the few tries I’ve seen my friends make, it pretty much blows until it’s over. I’ll take having all of her now and a clean break when she leaves. I mean, if you think about it, it’s actually pretty sweet. We both know the score. There’s a ticking clock on this relationship, which means no one has to hold back or be careful or whatever.”

It made sense to Max. So he wasn’t sure what was with Jase standing there, looking at him with his head cocked to the side. “What do you mean no one has to hold back?”

Yeah, right. Jase might have it bad for Emily, but before they got together, the guy cycled through girlfriends like Max went through breakfast cereal. He might not want to remember the before time, but Max was betting he did.

“Come on, man. You know how it is when you’ve got to gauge everything you do to make sure no one gets the wrong idea. Like sleeping over. I never did it, because wrapping my arms around the warm body across the bed might have given the girl ideas, even though I’d gone out of my way to be clear she shouldn’t get them. Going out more than once or twice. Or seeing the same girl two nights in a row. You can’t do that and expect them not to wonder if maybe you’ve started to reconsider.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jase answered, but clearly there was still something on his mind. “So all those things you never let yourself do with the other girls. You’re doing them with Sarah?”

That was the best part. Max leaned in to his buddy. “She sleeps over damn near every night, man. My pillow smells like her shampoo. And I cook with her, Jase. I actually cook for her.”

Jase’s chin snapped back. “With what? You have a single frying pan and a pot. What’d you make her, an egg and some ramen?”

Asshole. “For your information, I bought myself a bunch of kitchen shit from that store where Brody made you get yours. Set of pans. Couple good knives. And I’m confident enough with my manhood to tell you I even have a set of those ‘nested’ bowls. The little baby one is so small that Sarah picked it up and kissed it.” At Jase’s look, he grinned. “I know. But why not? Couple more things to move, and it’s nice while I’ve got Sarah here. Hell, maybe I’ll cook for you guys sometime. But I’ve only got two kitchen chairs, so someone’s going to have to use the lawn chair.”

Nodding, Jase walked back to the table and reached for his beer. “And you’re sure Sarah isn’t getting the wrong idea? Because just listening to you, gotta say, I kinda am.”

“Not a chance.” Max glanced around the bar, making sure the rest of the guys were still otherwise occupied. “She’s all about New York. I mean, we’re having fun. A hell of a lot of it. But she makes me look clingy.”

He probably should have waited until Jase put the beer down, because now the guy was coughing up foam.

“Shut up,” Jase croaked, grimacing as he rubbed his chest.

“I’m serious. I keep thinking we’ve only got so much time left, so all I want to do is make the most of it together—which I will deny saying if you breathe a fucking word of this to anyone.” Jase was waving him on, the understanding between them clear. “But just this week, it’s like half the time she’s got this little furrow between her eyes. I ask what’s wrong, and she says she’s thinking about work. She’s mentally moving forward, even though I want to keep her here with me until I actually have to let her go, you know?”

He thought about Saturday morning and how she’d woken up with that nightmare and all he’d wanted was to hold her. Like somehow the power of his arms alone would be enough to banish whatever unwelcome thoughts had crawled into her consciousness. Nice thought, but Sarah had turned to work instead.

“You think maybe she’s just, I don’t know, giving the brakes a tap because she knows the relationship has to end? Like maybe better to slow down before that happens?”

Max rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about what it was like when they were together. When he was inside her. The way their eyes locked and that connection lit up. “Nah. No way. It’s just how she is. And I shouldn’t be whining about it, because it’s part of what makes her so fucking perfect.”

He knew exactly where he stood with her. He knew what her priorities were. Her plans. Which meant there wouldn’t be any excuse for getting in her way.