by Tina Saxon
Before responding, I let his words sink in and close my eyes, turn off my mind and just feel. The once hollow core inside my heart is full, my soul is dancing, and my body has never been more alive than when I’m with Max. How can I walk away when everything is perfect?
“I don’t want to run anymore,” I surrender, lifting again. Tears blur my vision. It's freeing to say it out loud, the weight of giving a shit lifts off my chest letting me breathe easier than I have in a long time. His eyes flicker across my face. These are tears of relief.
He rolls us over and hovers above me, bringing his lips to mine, devouring my mouth with a desperate yet controlled need. The tension that always saddles us, dissipates. He pours his heart into it and I feel it. Every beat. Every emotion. Every want and need.
I gasp for air when he releases my swollen lips. Slowly, I regain my senses, and he raises a curious eyebrow. Seconds pass as I wait for him to tell me what’s on his mind. Eventually, I ask, “What?”
“You didn’t answer me. Slow. Or fast?” His question was regarding the speed of our relationship earlier, but the heat in his eyes and his hardness pressing into my hip suggests otherwise. My pulse quickens.
“Slow,” I murmur, sounding out of breath as I watch his finger graze down the middle of my rib cage. “We should—” I swallow my words, whimpering when his finger skims my sensitive clit, sliding right inside of me. My back bows off the bed and I moan at the delicious, yet agonizing slow speed he moves in and out of me. “—take things slow,” I mewl, the ache building in my lower belly.
Rocking against his hand, I groan as he takes my breast in his mouth.
“Slow isn’t usually my style, but I accept the challenge.”
Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I wait for the remorse. The guilt. Instead, a woman who’s happy and thoroughly fucked stares back at me. My cheeks are red, my breasts still perky and firm, skin flushed from Max’s stubble. And a heart that’s full. For the first time, the thought of being with Max doesn’t result in a storm of reasons we can’t be together. “Don’t fuck this up,” I whisper to my reflection.
“Tink, you okay in there?” Max calls from the other room, worry etched in his voice. His question pops into my head again. Slow or fast? A lazy grin creeps up my cheeks as I wonder if he thinks my answer was only about sex. Don’t get me wrong, slow sex with Max was wildly hot.
I peek out of the bathroom, my full heart twists when I find Max sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees with a strained expression. His eyes dart to mine when he hears me coming out of the bathroom. His uncertainty devastates me. This fractured moment is my fault. I’m bringing this gorgeous man who doesn’t answer to anyone to his knees. He hands me the power I don’t want.
Standing in between his legs, he sits up tall, and I rake my hands through his hair. “Your question… we were talking about our relationship, right?”
With a slight tic at the corner of his mouth, he nods. His demeanor morphs in front of me to the confident man I’m used to seeing. “You’re the boss.”
I stifle a snort, pushing on his naked chest and he falls back on the bed. “As if.”
Settling back, he puts his hands behind his head, flashing a lop-sided grin as if telling me I’m in control. His jeans are unbuttoned, zipper down, flashing the top of his underwear. His ink on full display, I’ll look at it thoroughly later. Laid back, Max is sexy as hell. But my dry lady parts were just oiled rigorously and need a reprieve.
We need to talk. But the way his gaze takes appraisal of my naked body, my engine buzzes to life. I fight the blooming urge to jump on top of him again, rather I spin in place and march to the bathroom. Maybe this will make him stop looking at me with sexy eyes. When I return, I’m wearing a white robe two times my size. It’s so long, it drags on the floor. To reinforce my no-more-sex stance, I make sure I’m not within reach, leaning against the desk.
“Twenty-seven hundred miles didn’t stop me from getting to you,” he states, sitting up, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You think three feet and that piece of fabric will stop me?”
Releasing an awkward laugh, I tighten the robe belt. “Expectations,” I blurt out before he can stand up, knowing one physical touch would cause me to cave. Amusement fills his face. “Not sexual expectations, Max.” His laugh echoes off the walls in the small bedroom.
“Okay, Tink. Let’s talk logistics.” He slaps his hands together, folding them in his lap.
I swallow, afraid he might take what I have to say the wrong way. “I’d like to keep our relationship on the down-low.”
“Meaning?”
I clear my throat, my nerves getting the best of me. I’ve never had to put restrictions on a relationship. “I don’t want to tell anyone.” His expression remains neutral, making him hard to read. I wrap the robe belt around my fingers, over and over. “At least, right now,” I add.
He scratches his stubble, nodding. Say something. I glance down when I feel the tingling in my fingers. I’ve wrapped the belt around my fingers so tight, they’re turning blue. Releasing the belt, I hide my hands behind me to stop fidgeting—or cutting off my fingers.
“Max,” I belt out. “You have to engage in this conversation.”
“Why?”
Seriously? My eyebrows draw together. “Why what? Why do you need to be present in this conversation? Why do I want this between us only? Be specific.”
And he tells me to use my words.
He cracks a smile at my irritation and I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for him to answer. “Why do you want to keep it a secret?”
I sigh, turning to the window worried if I tell him the truth, he’ll think I’m running. I lick my lips, suddenly parched. “I don’t want…” Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I take a quick pause. “I don’t want our friends to know until we’re certain what this is.”
He pushes off the bed and stops in front of me. “I’m certain what this is, so let me explain it to you since you’re having trouble with it.” His fingers swipe my hair behind my ear as his stare pins me in place. “We’re two adults who like each other. We’re exploring each other and seeing where this goes. There are no promises, no expectations other than we try.”
“But what if we tell everyone and then it doesn’t work? Reunions, friends, Lulu… everything will be awkward.”
Steel-blue eyes bore into me and I shift my weight from foot to foot, wishing I hadn’t said that out loud. He shakes his head, and I watch him storm away. The bathroom door slams.
How many times am I going to push him away before he doesn’t return? Panic builds in my heart. I stare at the door, waiting for it to open. The air in the room must have followed him because I can’t breathe. Like the tornado that just left here, it comes back full force when he charges back into the room. I wrap my arms across my chest, expecting the worst. Max towers in front of me again.
“I get it.” My eyes widen at his declaration. It’s his turn to distract himself with my belt. The white Terry cloth hangs in his hand. “One month.” I tilt my head in confusion. “That’s all you get to keep this secret. My team will know because it’s imperative they know everything, especially since we’re here for business. Graham will know as well.” He quirks a brow up, waiting for an objection. I nod in agreement, not having found my voice yet.
He yanks at the belt, whipping it out of the two small hooks. Pulling apart the robe with his fingers, I shudder at the sound of his growl. The no-more-sex thoughts vanish. As soon as the robe falls at our feet, Max steps closer, dips his head into the curve of my neck, and with no warning, pins my hands behind my back with the belt.
“I choose fast. And hard,” he rasps, his breath hot on my neck.
My eyes roll back.
Yes, please.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Max
Fuck, I have to get out of here.
I glance at Sydney sleeping, the wrinkled sheet only covering her from the waist down. Her soft tits on d
isplay. My dick pulses in pain, reminding me why I need to leave. I’ve been awake for the last hour, rehashing our entire night. I’ve tried to think of anything that can make my dick go soft, to no avail. My thoughts always take me back to being buried deep inside perfection.
“I’m going for a run,” I whisper, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. She softly moans. I grind my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut. I fight the urge to touch her. The hunger I have for her is unrelenting. It’s not in my wheelhouse to control my sexual appetite with a woman. I take unapologetically. But fuckin’-a, my appetite has never been this unsatisfied, craving more to the point of pain.
Walk away. Now.
I snatch my phone off the table, slipping out the door. As soon as the door closes, I breathe a sigh of relief. The wall between us helps me clear my head long enough to send Hudson a quick text that it’s time for work. As soon as he steps off the elevator, I head in his direction. We pass with a couple nods. No need discussing what he already knows.
I glance down at my watch. Ten o’clock. The bus leaves in three hours and I need to run this sexual frustration off. Because if it’s bad now, wait until I’m on a bus, not able to touch her for ten fucking hours.
First, I have a stop to make. The wooden door shakes under my knuckles. I wait five seconds before knocking again. He’s in there; grumbling on the other side gives him away.
“If you work for me, you’re fired,” Graham mumbles, half awake, swinging the door open. His eyes widen when they meet mine. I stand there as his gaze works its way down and back up. It’s a good thing I like the guy. “Max, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice softens.
Fucking, finally.
My smile widens at the relief in my pants.
“Thanks, G,” I say, patting him on the back as I walk into his room.
“And what exactly are you thanking me for?”
I wave him off. “Just for being you. Grab your shoes, we’re going running.”
“Excuse me?” He runs his hand through his hair. “I didn’t hear you right. You want me to go running after getting only...” He pauses, looking around the room for the clock. I point to the microwave and his head whips to it and back. “… Five hours of sleep.”
“I only got three. I win. Get your shoes on.”
“What if I don’t like to run?” He crosses his arms.
Bullshit. “You ran the Los Angeles marathon three months ago.”
His mouth drops open. “Many people do marathons just to say—”
“That was your fifth one this year.”
“You are mildly invasive.” I shrug a shoulder. Yes, I am. There is nothing mild about it. Especially for the people Sydney surrounds herself with. “Fine. But only because I had that extra dessert last night. Not because you’re commanding me to.” He mumbles to himself all the way to the bedroom. I survey the room as I wait. Shoes lined at the door, not one crooked or out of place; files stacked perfectly on the sofa table next to two pencils side by side. I glance at the closed door and chuckle to myself. I’m an asshole. Walking over to the table, I flick one pencil so it’s resting in a V formation. Let’s see how long it’ll take him to see it. I give it less than a minute.
I lean against the wall, irritation grows the longer he takes. This was a dumb idea. “Graham, you don’t have to dress nice to go running,” I yell, tapping my head against the wall. “I don’t have all day.”
“Well, I don’t roll out of bed looking like Thor,” he says, walking out of the room, pointedly staring at me.
I chuckle at the Marvel character reference. It reminds me of my brother. He’s called me that a time or two. Fuck! I didn’t want to think about my brother right now. He still hasn’t turned up and his team is clueless. It’s like he’s vanished. My next call is Aiden. Maybe the FBI knows something we don’t.
“Are you just going to stand there all day?” Graham snaps, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I yawn and stretch my arms. “Yeah, I’m kind of tired. I’m gonna skip and go back to bed.”
His expression is priceless. The vein in his neck pops out. “What!”
I shuffle past him, shaking my head. “I’m kidding. Let’s go.”
“Oh! You’ve got jokes.” He laughs without humor as we walk down the corridor. While waiting for the elevator, he says, “Thanks for moving my pencil.”
I turn in his direction. “I’m not sure if I’m impressed or disappointed. I had you pegged as a classic case of OCD.”
“Why do you think I run?” He smirks as we step into the elevator. “And thanks to you, I’ll be quicker today so I can fix the problem. Hope you can keep up.” The challenge in his voice is everything I need right now. “How far we running?”
“At least ten miles.” I hope that’ll be enough to tire me the fuck out for the day.
His eyes snap to mine in surprise. “Aren’t you ambitious.”
Nope, I’m sexually frustrated.
As soon as my feet pound the pavement, the Sydney energy built up inside me, turns into fuel to keep me going. We don’t talk the first half hour as we wind around a paved trail close to the hotel. The cool brisk morning air in Des Moines makes the run tolerable.
“Is there a reason I’m here, running with you?” Graham glances over at me. His lean body is made for running. Mine, not so much. But I’m keeping in step with him.
I shrug. “I needed a running partner, someone who would challenge me to go the distance.”
Sensing his eyes on me, I look over. “You’re so full of shit. Does this have to do with the kiss?”
It has everything to do with the kiss.
Turning my attention forward, I nod. “You heard, huh?”
“Who didn’t?”
This makes me happy. That kiss had a purpose, and it wasn’t to claim Sydney. But I’m definitely not upset that the purpose veered off course. Right to her bed.
“So, are you here to ask my permission to date her?”
Permission? Is he serious?
I have to slow down from laughing so hard. Sweat beads on my forehead and I wipe it off, stopping altogether. “Hold on,” I say, holding up a finger, pulling in a breath. “I haven’t laughed that hard in forever.”
He stops, stands with his hands on his hips. “It wasn’t that funny.” His voice has an alarming notion of rightness and it rubs me the wrong way.
“I see that.” I step closer to him, all humor drops from my face. He takes a step back.
That’s right, back the fuck up.
He needs to understand his place in this equation, and it sure as hell isn’t Sydney’s gatekeeper. “If you think I need a blessing from you to be with the woman I have loved for over two years, you’re fucking delusional.”
Surprisingly, he stands tall, trying to mask his fear. The dilation in his eyes gives it away. Usually I would respect a man for standing up for what he believes, but he does not want to go toe to toe with me on this.
“It was nothing but a guess, Max. You wake me up to go running, yet we’ve never conversed except for business reasons. I don’t know what to think.”
Thunder rumbles overhead, pulling our attention to the skies. Clouds cluster together above us, threatening to release their wrath on us. I blow out a ragged breath, wondering where all this rage came from. And I’m not referring to the weather. Any threat to my relationship with Sydney, manufactured in my head or real, has me on guard.
Controlling my tone, I respond, “I brought you out here to tell you that Sydney and I are together. It’s important you know since you’re her manager. And a good friend.”
He stares at me, lips twisted as he mulls over the new information. My eyes dart around at the people who jog past us rather than deal with the uncomfortable silence between us. I flinch from a drop of rain landing on my nose.
“Glad we talked,” I say, slapping him on the back. “But we need to go.”
I head in the hotel’s direction, rain dropping rapidly now, but stop when I notice he’s not
coming. What the ever-loving hell? I spin around and he’s still in the same spot. “What, Graham?”
He shakes his head, points my direction. “Why are you headed back? Scared of a little rain?”
My lips twitch. I didn’t give the guy enough credit. I was going back for him, wasn’t in the mood for some pussy whining about getting wet. Pushing forward, I jog past him and say, “I was giving you an out.”
The sky never opens up to a torrential downpour, but enough to get us soaked. According to my watch, we ran for twelve miles, all in silence. The run is exactly what I needed to clear my head before meeting with the team.
Our shoes slosh and squeak against the tiled hotel lobby as we make our way to the elevator. People glance our way with sympathetic expressions at our drenched clothes like we were unfortunate to get caught out in the rain without an umbrella. A hotel staffer runs up to us with two towels in hand. We both mutter thanks. I wipe off my face and hair, hanging the towel around my neck.
For such a big hotel, the elevators should be quicker. I tap my finger against my leg, waiting.
“It’s about time,” Graham announces.
I glance at all three elevators, ready to jump on one, but none are even close to our level. “For what?” I say, turning my attention to him.
“It’s about time you and Sky figured your shit out. I’m happy for you both.” It took him all that time to say that? Is he blowing smoke up my ass? My brow cocks as I try to read him and his real intentions. He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I can’t say I’m not concerned. I was there to pick up the pieces left of her when she lost…” He pauses and I nod in understanding. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence, I was fucking there too. “You’re in the same profession, so to speak, and I worry that next time there won’t be pieces to pick up.”
I get it. It’s one of the many reasons I tried to stay away. It seems the power of a heart not only keeps you alive but decides without prejudice who to love. I was tired of fighting it.