CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Max was in an excellent mood as they climbed the front steps to his home, Carrie in front of him. His hands were on her hips and his lips were exploring the side of her neck and making it more difficult than it should have been to fit the key into the lock. She slapped playfully at his hands that had roamed to her front.
“Can you just hold on one cotton pickin’ minute? I can’t get the door unlocked.”
Instead of pausing, Max nipped at her shoulder with his teeth sending a shiver up her spine. “You wouldn’t let me kiss you in the limo. You said to wait until we got home. Well, we’re home.”
Technically, he had a point.
“That’s true, Hamlet, but you might want to watch those hands because there is about a dozen cameras trained on the front door of this house tonight. We could end up on the cover of a tabloid with our knickers down.”
“Only girls wear knickers.”
Success. She got the darn key in the lock. Twisting it, the door fell open and they stumbled inside.
“Funny about that. I forgot to wear my knickers tonight.”
The door immediately and loudly slammed shut and she found herself pressed up against it by one male, six feet tall and all muscle. His warm breath feathered over her shoulder as he ran his tongue from her earlobe down to where her pulse beat madly at the base of her throat.
“You naughty girl,” he chuckled, pressing damp kisses to her flesh and making the room spin. “You’ve been walking around all night without your panties? Are you trying to kill me?”
His questing fingers slid up her thigh and she relaxed, surrendering to his carnal explorations. Her lips captured his, their tongues playing together as his hand slipped between her legs. Breaking the kiss, she moaned as his touch found her wet, swollen, and needy. She’d been fantasizing about this all night.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to please you.”
His laugh was pure male pleasure and dominance. “My darling girl, you always do that. Now I’m going to please you.”
Max slid down her body and to his knees, hooking one of her thighs over his shoulder. Gasping at the first stroke of his tongue, she was grateful for his strong arms as he braced her firmly against the smooth oak of the door, allowing her to abandon herself to the maelstrom of pleasure his expert mouth evoked. Wave after wave of heat swept through her veins and her eyelids fluttered shut, closing out the world beyond the two of them.
“Max,” she whispered as her fingers dug into his soft, springy hair. A coil of arousal was tightening in her belly, inexorably pushing her closer to release as his tongue flicked over her sensitive clit. “More.”
Usually he liked to tease her but tonight he didn’t make her wait. His mouth closed over the sensitive bud, the tip of his tongue drawing circles around it until she thought she might lose her mind. Her body exploded into a million tiny pieces like confetti showering down from the sky.
His name was on her lips when he lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist. At some point he’d unzipped his pants and now he was pushing against her core, hot, hard and ready. She groaned as he bottomed out, every steely inch of him buried to the hilt.
Every time he sank into her, stretching her walls, Carrie clenched around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his strokes picked up speed, rubbing that spot inside of her that drove her mad with want. This would be no gentle, romantic coupling. They were frantic and needy, their hands pawing at the barrier of their clothes so they could touch the bare flesh underneath.
The sounds they made were obscene. Damp flesh. Grunts. Wild, breathless panting. The door he’d braced her against shook on its hinges with the power of his thrusts. She’d have bruises on her hips tomorrow where his hands gripped her bottom, holding her still for their mating. He was in his all-male domination mode and although she wouldn’t want a steady diet of this cock of the walk attitude, tonight she relished his passion and ardor. Never in her life had a man wanted her this badly. It was as if he couldn’t get enough.
Or maybe it was she that couldn’t get enough of him.
It didn’t matter which because they were both getting what they wanted. He’d driven them both to the pinnacle and now she was climaxing around him, screaming his name so loudly the paps across the street probably heard her. His own orgasm was no less spectacular. He threw his head back, his eyes closed as if in prayer. The veins on his neck stood out in stark relief, his jaw tight. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she leaned forward to run her tongue along his Adam’s apple, tasting the salty tang.
As quickly as the storm had come upon them it was over. As gentle as ever, Max pressed baby soft kisses onto her face as he stepped away from the door and headed up the stairs, carrying her the whole way. Once in his bedroom, he laid her on the bed and began to undress her, slowly this time, savoring every moment of it. His own clothes melted away and he cuddled against her, his front to her back. His fingers methodically stroked her skin as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing evened out.
Max made Carrie feel infinitely precious and protected. Snuggled and safe in his arms, nothing could touch her. No doubts. No fears. This was a man worth believing in.
* * *
Max shifted on the mattress slightly, trying not to wake the woman peacefully slumbering at his side. The clock on the bedside table read three-thirty but he was wide awake. Despite their passionate lovemaking that should have burned whatever energy he’d had left after tonight’s performance, he couldn’t seem to settle down and sleep. His mind was buzzing as he replayed Tyler’s words over and over in his head.
I think you’d be great. Just say the word.
Carrie had quickly put the actor in his place, turning him down in her no-nonsense tone. Max believed her. He believed that she wasn’t interested in being an actress. A star. Mostly. He couldn’t deny, however, that little voice in the back of his head that was whispering again and again.
She wants something. She’s using you. You can’t trust her.
After all, who didn’t want to become a star? They thought it was all riding around in limos, drinking champagne, and shagging fans. Carrie, of course, knew full well that it was a hell of a lot more work but was the glamour any draw for her at all? She certainly enjoyed wearing designer dresses and attending parties.
Shaking his head, he gazed down at her innocently curled against him and silently berated himself. This was no barracuda looking for a big payday. Carrie was ambitious and hardworking but there was no way she was planning to become the next Meryl Streep. She loved her work and her life and it showed. There was no way in hell that Carrie was using Max unless it was for hot sex.
Snickering at his own joke, he leaned down to drop a kiss on her shoulder, the skin like satin under his lips. Her warm scent surrounded him, swamping his senses and his chest tightened in response. The emotions this woman created inside of him were so incredibly strong, almost bringing him to his knees with their awesome power. In one breath he wondered how he could ever survive feeling like this and in the next he wondered how he could live without it.
Carrie confused and bewildered him, keeping him off balance and reveling in it. Max was a man that was unused to not knowing what he wanted and how he felt. He needed to figure it out quickly though, as the clock on their relationship was ticking away and the last few granules of sand would soon be at the bottom of the hourglass. She wouldn’t be obligated to be with him and he had doubts as to whether he’d given her enough reasons to stay without the ties that bound them together. He’d spent so many years putting distance between himself and others that when it came time to pull someone closer he had no idea how to accomplish the task.
For Carrie…he’d better figure it out and fast.