Melt With You: Into The Fire Series

by J. H. Croix

  In fact, I was calculating what I would need to do to convince her not to write me off, not to box me out. I didn’t know how, but I knew someone had hurt her, and I was determined to somehow assuage that pain. That made no fucking sense. Then again, nothing made sense with how I responded to Harlow.

  I rolled my head to the side, glancing to the nightstand. The clock read seven a.m. It was still dark out, but then, we were in Alaska. December was days away. I idly wondered where Harlow had spent Thanksgiving and hoped she hadn’t been alone.

  Despite Ivy’s worry about me over the holidays, I did have family, and they mattered to me. Quite a lot. Though Ivy had known me for a few years at this point, I doubted Owen chatted much about me.

  Perhaps I’d had business meetings on Christmas Eve every so often, but it was only because of choice, not because I couldn’t have gone home. Merely thinking about my family with Harlow warm against me had me wondering about her. I knew her mother died when she was young, so it had just been her and her father. Howard May was well-known for working at any and all times.

  The part of my mind that had resolved not to bother with relationships put up a feeble argument.

  What the hell are you thinking? You don’t do this anymore.

  Whatever part of my brain Harlow had activated had its own train of thought about that.

  Hell yes, I do. Harlow doesn’t want anything from me. Not money, not status. She could’ve had all that on her own just from her father, and she walked away from it.

  A sense of unease ran through me, but I ignored it. I wasn’t walking away from Harlow, even if what we had was just something to burn out. I would see it through until that happened. If there were more, I would see that through too.

  I kicked my thoughts out of the weeds when Harlow shifted against me again, and I couldn’t resist the urge to let my hands get busy. She was too soft, too fucking appealing. I slid my hand over the sweet curve of her bottom, trailing my fingers lightly over her silky skin.

  Her nipple tightened against my chest. Two hands were quite convenient. Traveling up over her side, I teased her nipple with my thumb, sensing the moment she came awake. She murmured something against my skin and then rose up on her elbow. There was a hint of light filtering out from the entryway to the room where we’d left the light on last night. Her hair was a tangle around her face.

  “What time is it?” she asked, her voice husky with sleep.

  “Seven or so.”

  I brushed my thumb back and forth over her nipple, savoring the soft hitch in her breath. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I knew the moment she stopped. A little laugh escaped, and then she dipped her head and dusted kisses across my chest.

  I meant to say something, but she moved swiftly. Shimmying down my body, she pushed the sheets out of the way. I let out a rough groan when she curled her palm around my cock.

  Fuck me. This woman. I threaded my hand in her hair as she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock. She took me into the slick wet heat of her mouth, nearly making me come right then and there. I’d woken up hard because all she had to do was exist beside me and I wanted her.

  She took me to the edge, pulling back to swirl her tongue around and dragging it along the underside before sucking me deep again. I was on the verge of exploding, but I wanted to be inside her.

  “Harlow,” I bit out.

  She drove back, laughing softly in the shadowy room. “What?”

  I moved swiftly, tugging her up and spinning us over. She giggled and my heart squeezed. “Hey, I was busy,” she protested.

  “I know. But I want to come inside of you.”

  She grinned and dipped her head, dragging her tongue along my neck and nipping with her teeth. Her legs were curling around my hips and her slick wet heat was tempting me. At the last second, I remembered I needed a condom.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, not letting her go as I rolled slightly on the bed, reaching for the jeans I’d kicked to the floor last night.

  After a bit of fumbling, with Harlow teasing me, I managed to get a condom on. Then, I sank home inside of her.

  I held still for a moment, savoring the feel of her channel clenching around me, and my heart thudded inside my chest, an unfamiliar intimacy curling like smoke around us. I didn’t care to contemplate it. I just wanted to lose myself in Harlow.

  She’d already had me so worked up, I was at the edge of my restraint the moment I buried myself to the hilt. My release was twisting in the base of my spine inside of two strokes. Rushing wasn’t my style. But then, there was no such thing as style when it came to Harlow and me. It was hot, quick, and dirty. Even when I savored every moment, it was a blur of madness.

  I forced myself to draw back more slowly, gauging if she was as close to the edge as I was.

  “Max, don’t,” she gasped.

  “What?” I countered as I surged into her, clinging to a thin thread of restraint.

  “Don’t make me wait!” she cried out when I drove back again.

  “Look at me.”

  I needed to see her fly apart in the shadows. Her eyes dragged open, her lids heavy. Somewhere along the way, I’d laced my fingers into hers with one hand. I held on to that anchor point. Reaching between us, I pressed against her slippery wet clit. Her hips bucked against me, and her walls clamped down around me, throbbing and pulsing as she cried out.

  I finally let go, my release hitting me like a shock force. Shuddering, I fell against her, rolling us over so I didn’t crush her. I was still buried inside her and didn’t want to move. I shouldn’t have needed her that much, not after last night. But then, I was beginning to wonder if my need for her would ever be slaked.

  The sound of our breathing slowed as I sifted my fingers through her hair. Propping up on her elbow, she rested her chin on her hand. As she regarded me quietly, I wondered just what the hell she was thinking.

  “How long are you in Anchorage?” she asked.

  “It’s looking like a month.”

  “You’ll stay here through Christmas?”

  “If I need to. I might leave to go see my family, but I’ll come back. There are usually a lot of logistical issues when we transition into management for a company.”

  In the realm of crazy, I considered asking her to come with me to see my family. Knowing she was estranged from her father didn’t sit well with me, and I didn’t like the idea that she might be alone on the holidays.

  That was how fucking crazy I was about Harlow. I expected my rational brain to kick in here. I expected it so much, that I almost asked for its opinion. Yet, my rational voice, which had driven my decisions about relationships for years now and had compartmentalized them into a tidy file folder in my life, was strangely silent.

  I was oddly okay with that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Max

  After we untangled ourselves from each other and showered for a second time—where I had to beat back the urge to take her again—we dressed and went down to the lobby for breakfast together. With Harlow’s dark brown hair damp from the shower and her eyes bright, she looked fresh-faced and young, far too pure for me. She shooed away the waitress with the menu, declaring she wanted the breakfast buffet.

  Once we were seated, she glanced over from across the table, her cheeks pinkening slightly. “I like to eat,” she murmured, gesturing to her plate.

  For a moment, I was confused and then realized she was referencing her plate piled high. Seeing as I had more food on my plate than she did, obviously we were in agreement on that point. “I think I win this one,” I countered.

  I elected not to expound upon the fact that I didn’t give a damn how much she ate, and sure as hell preferred a woman with curves for days. As we dug into our meals and sipped coffee, I glanced out the window. It was snowing and the pace was picking up rapidly.

  “How long are you planning to be in Anchorage?” I asked, in between bites.

  “Well, I was supposed to go back yesterday, but it
got late. I’ll probably head back in a little while.”

  I didn’t like that answer. Glancing out the window again and back to her, I said, “I don’t think today’s a good day for a drive.”

  Harlow shrugged. “It’s Alaska. There are more days than not where the weather’s like this in the winter. I’ll be fine.”

  Even though I sensed she didn’t appreciate my observation, I was feeling stubborn and didn’t care to consider why. “Harlow, do me a favor and don’t drive in this.”

  She was midway to lifting her fork to her mouth and paused with the fork in midair. “Are you seriously asking me not to drive?”

  She sounded quite shocked, and she had every reason to be. I wasn’t usually the kind of man who would’ve shared my opinion on any woman’s driving plans. But right now, I was disconcertingly worried about Harlow driving home in this weather.

  I held her gaze and nodded before taking a gulp of my coffee and another bite of pancakes. She finished a bite and took a sip from her own mug, pausing to look out the windows. Snow was falling steadily, coating everything. There was no sky to be seen; nothing but slate gray as a backdrop against the white snow.

  Her brown eyes cut back to me, narrowing. “Max, I’ll be fine.”

  Her tone was steely and clear. I didn’t even think about what I said next, it simply came out. “All right then, let me drive.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Harlow

  “What?!”

  Max’s steady gaze never wavered. “If you’re going to insist on driving in this weather, I don’t want you to go alone.”

  Taking a steadying breath, I mentally counted to ten and reached for my coffee to take a sip. “I can drive fine in this weather, Max. I’ve lived up here for a year now. This”—I paused, gesturing out the window at the snow—“happens all winter long.”

  “I wasn’t implying you couldn’t handle it. But the snow’s coming down faster, and it’s not exactly a short drive.”

  I took another sip of my coffee, honestly so startled by his suggestion and how ridiculous it was that I didn’t even know how to respond. The annoying part was the idea of him coming home with me was quite appealing. I was ultimately irritated as hell that he didn’t think I could handle the drive and also appreciative that he wanted to take care of me. Talk about a contradiction.

  I rolled my eyes and took a bite of eggs. “That’s ridiculous.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “Okay then, let’s compromise. You drive, but I come with you.”

  Now I just laughed. “Fine. How do you intend to get back? Plus, don’t you need to be here?”

  Max didn’t even hesitate. “I can do whatever I want. We own the company. I’ve had a few days around the offices already, and I can do much of what I need to online.”

  I still thought the whole thing was ridiculous, but I shrugged. “Okay, fine. You ride with me. To a tiny town where I’m sure you’ll be bored.”

  It was Max’s turn to chuckle. “I won’t be bored.”

  At the hot look in his eyes, my body tightened, heat blooming from my core. I didn’t know what he was doing or why, but my body sure thought it was a good idea.

  A few hours later, Max was climbing into my little truck. I recalled the last time I’d been in a vehicle with him—the afternoon of Ivy’s wedding. The burning, yearning need for him had been almost instantaneous then, and hadn’t faded in the least. I supposed I needed to count when he returned me to the hotel after the wedding, but I didn’t remember that drive.

  It was still snowing, and hard enough that if I’d been driving alone, I might’ve thought twice. I wasn’t about to admit that to Max, though. I was actually a little relieved not to be by myself. It wasn’t that far, but the drive to Willow Brook was along a largely empty stretch of highway once we got out of Anchorage.

  I half-expected Max to comment on the conditions. The snow was thick, and falling at a steady clip from the sky. But he didn’t.

  Once we were in my small truck, he glanced over. “How long is the drive?”

  “Forty-five minutes, give or take.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road then.”

  After we’d eaten breakfast, he left the hotel to swing by the offices and take care of a few things. He returned to the hotel with a briefcase, a laptop in a traveling bag, a wheeled cart full of files, and an overnight bag. When I inquired about the files, he explained it was easier for him to go over things on paper than in the computer when it came to reviewing numbers.

  Max’s presence filled the space in my little truck. I didn’t know what to make of the fact he was coming with me. The first part of the drive was quiet as I made my way out of Anchorage. Once I was on the highway heading west toward Willow Brook, Max spoke.

  “Speaking of small towns, how do you like living in Willow Brook?”

  Keeping my eyes on the road, I considered my answer. “I like it. I wasn’t sure about it at first, to be honest. I don’t know how much you know about my dad, but growing up, I mostly lived in hotels. He was always traveling and just took me with him.”

  I flicked my eyes sideways briefly to see Max looking at me, his gaze inscrutable.

  “While I know your father, I’ve certainly never talked to him about his personal life, so I didn’t know that.”

  “I suppose it’s nice to just be in one place. Even though I sort of had a home base in North Carolina, where my mother was from, she died when I was six. I don’t have anywhere that was really home growing up. Willow Brook is nice. It’s pretty busy in the summer because of the tourists, and it’s close enough to Anchorage that I can get my city fix if I need it.”

  “How did you meet Ivy?”

  “I met her at a fundraising function in San Francisco that my father hosted. We hit it off, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

  I paused as I rounded a corner in the highway, slowing. Even my trusty little four-wheel-drive truck started to skid slightly. I wasn’t about to tell Max he was right, but the roads were pretty slick. While the snow was beautiful as it fell, dusting the trees and the mountains with a fresh coat, it was the worst kind to drive in. I called it “snot” snow—that kind of snow that was just damp and heavy enough that it was like sliding in snot on the road, if that made any sense.

  If Max had any thoughts about the road conditions, he didn’t say anything. When I steadied the truck and glanced his way, his features were tense but he was quiet.

  “It’s not the best weather,” I said, deciding there was no point in being passive and pretending like it was fine.

  Max chuckled. “No, the weather’s pretty bad, but you’ll notice I didn’t comment.”

  I burst out laughing. “Thank you for that. So tell me a little bit about your family.”

  I figured we might as well chat to keep me from white-knuckling the drive too much.

  “My parents are still happily married, and I have a younger sister, Mariana. She travels a lot for her job as a journalist. My parents live in the same house where I grew up in western Pennsylvania. It’s in the mountains, and it’s beautiful. I might live in the city now, but the town I grew up in is small. Perhaps not as small as Willow Brook, but I know what small town life feels like. I’m not really a city boy myself.”

  “What do your parents do?”

  “My dad runs a mechanic shop, right beside our house, and my mom is a teacher.”

  “And you’re a crazy rich engineering investor. I guess I wouldn’t have expected that.”

  Max chuckled again. “I suppose not. If my dad would have had more money when he was younger, or perhaps someone to push him in the different direction, he probably would’ve been a better engineer than me. I was a wild boy when I was young, but I was good in school and had a few teachers that pointed me in the right direction. I ended up at MIT on a scholarship. That’s where I met Owen and a few other friends. My time there set my career on its path. I didn’t intend to become as much of an investor as I am, but I’m good
with numbers and making things work. I still enjoy design obviously, but it’s not my mainstay.”

  I turned these new details about Max over in my mind, wondering how to make sense of him. I had categorized him in a way that perhaps wasn’t fair.

  We drove quietly for a bit, and I slowed as we approached the road that would lead us to Willow Brook. The weather was bad enough that I needed to stay focused. If Max thought anything of it, once again he stayed quiet. After we turned onto the side road and I slowed further, he spoke again. “Next time the weather is this bad, we’re not driving in it.”

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  A flash of anger rose inside. “Look,” I began, with my hands tight on the steering wheel and never once looking away from the road, “we’ve made it just fine. We’re almost there. Since when do you get a say in whether or not I drive in weather like this?”

  “I’d tell Owen he was foolish to drive in this,” Max retorted.

  We rode in silence the rest of the way to Willow Brook, and I was quite relieved to turn onto Main Street. I took a deep breath, letting it out and willing the tension to ease from where it had bundled in my shoulders and neck.

  “I need to make a few stops,” I commented.

  “Okay,” was all he said in reply.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Max

  Although I sensed Harlow had formed a certain impression of me, it wasn’t what she thought. While I had grown up in a small town, in a not-even-quite middle-class family, it was a bit of luck, some chance, and a lot of hard work that landed me at MIT, which had opened the doors that led to me being the man I was today. None of that meant I was an entitled and arrogant wealthy man.

  My background aside, I couldn’t quite say what prompted me to suggest I drive with her. I only knew I didn’t want her to go alone and the sense of protectiveness driving that was like a tripwire in my brain. There were a few white-knuckle moments on the drive, but Harlow clearly knew how to handle her truck in the snow and ice. I was still relieved to be with her.