The Wedding Date Bargain

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  He raised a brow. “I guess it was weird seeing you drop your coffee in the parking lot.”

  Right, the case of the clumsies resulting from her brain being all tied up with thoughts of Max and their date the next night. The third date, which he wouldn’t tell her anything about except that she was going to like it even more than their second date. Which she’d liked to an oh yes, please don’t stop degree already.

  Unfortunately, he had stopped. And she’d been “off” for two days since.

  Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, giving her a contemplative look. “But it was the swearing that really clued me in. And then when you kicked your travel mug. Yeah, that was a Sarah I don’t see every day.”

  Her eyes bugged. She hadn’t. Only the slight throb in her toe and scuff on her shoe suggested that yeah, she had.

  “I’ll get it together, Sean. I’m sorry you had to see it though.”

  Raising a brow, he laughed. The doors opened on her floor, and she stepped out. “Don’t sweat it, Sarah. It was kind of a relief to see you were human after all. Hell, everyone has off days.”

  “Thanks for understanding.” The doors slid closed, and she started toward her office, her body feeling like it didn’t belong to her. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive, and a coil of tension was ratcheting tighter with every second that passed, bringing her closer to the next time she saw Max again.

  She thought about his hand between her legs, petting her over her panties. His thumb playing with her nipples. Her next step missed the mark and her heel buckled, sending her into the wall with a thud.

  She couldn’t go on like this. She’d never make it.

  At her office door, she dropped her purse and then hit the top of her head on the doorknob when she tried to gather up the mess. Her phone sounded with a text.

  It was Max.

  Can’t survive another night. Please do society a solid and agree to move our date up to tonight. Or tell me to be a man and suck it up. Either works. Thinking about you, obviously.

  Sarah grinned, sliding her key card over the sensor and letting herself into her office. She set down her bag and texted back.

  Been going crazy. Seeing you again is all I can think about. It’s bad. People are noticing. What time and where?

  The reply was everything she’d hoped it would be.

  Six. My place.

  Dropping into her chair, she grinned at the ceiling.

  * * *

  Max had a few menus out on the counter when the doorbell rang. He’d showered and shaved after his shift, changing into a pair of cargo shorts and the blue T-shirt his sister said was a good color for him. Walking to the entry, he smoothed the top of his hair, wishing for once that he was capable of cleaning up like Sean.

  Jesus, what was with the nerves?

  He opened the door and his throat went dry, his mind blanking of anything but the beautiful brunette with the shy smile and the stretchy, flowy dress that seemed to spill down from a pair of skinny straps all the way to her toes.

  “Hi, Max,” she said, twisting her fingers in front of her.

  He nodded, suddenly tongue-tied like he hadn’t been since ever.

  There was a satisfying exaggeration in the rise and fall of her chest, a pinkness in her cheeks. Finally, his head engaged and he regained his ability to form words. “Sarah, you look gorgeous. Come on in.”

  He’d show her around first. Tell her about all his manly carpentry skills and feed her whatever she wanted to eat. And then for dessert, she was the something sweet he’d been craving since he dropped her off the other night, his dick so hard he’d thought the thing might explode before he got home. And not in a good way.

  Sarah smiled and stepped into the entry.

  Looking past her to the space he’d been rehabbing from the guts up, he suddenly wondered whether she’d be comfortable. The lack of traditional furniture hadn’t bothered him before, even when Sean was pointing it out. It was functional in a minimalist way. But now he wished he had more for Sarah to see. More to make her—

  The door hadn’t even closed all the way before his back was against it, Sarah having basically launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck as she pushed to her toes to kiss him, bringing all his favorite curves and soft spots flush against him.

  He didn’t miss a beat. The second she made contact, it was like he’d been wired to react. He had his fingers in her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. The other arm cinched tight around her waist, holding her even closer than she’d pressed herself.

  “I couldn’t wait,” she whispered against his mouth between kisses. “This is all I’ve been able to think about. Getting back to you. To this.”

  He growled against her mouth, almost losing it when she opened beneath him, the tip of her tongue venturing past her lips to lick his in invitation. It started with a single kiss, but the days since he’d touched her, the nights of barely resisting the need to go to her—they broke him. He filled her mouth with his tongue, taking it the way he wanted her body.

  Thrusting deep, he groaned as their tongues met and mated. Rolled and twined. Holding her tight, he picked her up and carried her a few steps until their positions were reversed and it was her back against the wall at the base of the stairwell. “Fuck, Sarah.”

  “Yes,” she hissed, her fingers sliding over the brush of his hair. “You should totally do that.”

  Even hard enough to hammer nails, he stopped to laugh against her neck, to squeeze her in to him, because she made him feel so much more than he expected. But then her nails were scraping lightly against the back of his head, and the laughter was over. He was leaning into her, pressing closer as he gathered up her flowy dress by the fistfuls until it was piled around her waist. Until his hands were on the sweet firm curves of her ass and her shoulders were braced against the plaster.

  Running his teeth along the delicate shell of her ear, he told her what to do.

  “Legs around me, beautiful.”

  Damn, that soft mewl of appreciation when she did what he asked.

  She was spread against him, nothing but her silky panties and his shorts between them. “Can you feel me, baby?” he asked, knowing the answer from the way her breath hitched and her legs tightened. Like she couldn’t get him close enough.

  “Yes,” she breathed, meeting the rock of his hips with the press of her own. “So good.”

  “This is nothing,” he promised, his voice already gravel rough as he rolled into her again and again. “Barely a taste, sweetheart.”

  Those sounds she was making, little and desperate, spurred him on. “Are you ready to feel me inside you, Sarah? Stretching those tight-as-fuck walls until you think you can’t take any more?”

  “Oh yes, Max,” she cried, her fingers clutching at him harder, her hips rocking against his that much faster.

  And yeah, he could feel how close she was, like he could feel her wetness soaking through his shorts. Nothing hotter in the world. Or at least that was what he’d thought until he started grinding in earnest and Sarah’s head dropped back against the wall, her eyes locking with his as her breath held. Her lips parted, her mouth opening farther and farther until finally that suspended cry ripped free, followed immediately by another and another as she came against him.

  When the last tremors subsided, he kissed her slowly, one side of her mouth and then the other. Her cheeks and her forehead. Her eyelids. Eventually, he lowered her legs, and her dress fell back into place. They stood staring at each other, their breathing strained but slowing, her fist in the front of his shirt.

  Blinking up at him, she smiled. “So this is your place, huh? Nice.”

  * * *

  Sarah had never been so relieved to come home to an empty apartment in all her life. Piper had another event with the radio station, so the apartment was quiet as she lay in bed, her bod
y tender and sweetly, satisfyingly achy, thanks to Max’s thorough attention.

  It wasn’t like she’d never gotten off before. She’d been with Cory for years, and while they’d never gotten too carried away—easy enough for him since he’d been banging anyone he felt like—she’d had his hand in her pants plenty.

  Not. The. Same.

  With Cory, there had been a slow build. A steady course. A spot that seemed to work and very little deviation once he’d figured out what it was going to take to get her there. In all honesty, it had felt a little like work with Cory.

  With Max though—she threw her arm over her forehead, wondering how she could be getting riled up again after four mind-blowing, toe-curling, she-hoped-he’d-done-enough-with-the-insulation-because-quiet-she-was-not orgasms—it had felt like the best possible kind of play. Like a journey several hours long and full of super-fun discovery. Like every look, breath, touch, or word from Max set her on fire in some new and crazy-hot way.

  It was so good.

  Biting her lip, she scrunched up her eyes.

  Their next date wasn’t for a whole week. She’d never make it.

  * * *

  “When you asked if I was free after work,” CJ grumbled, grunted, and then swore as he scraped his knuckles on the doorframe to the room Max had decided to make his bedroom, “I was kinda thinking you were looking for a beer or something equally Friday-night-ish. Not moving a freaking two-thousand-pound bed frame.”

  “Stop your bitching, and consider yourself lucky I’m still working on the second-floor rooms so it couldn’t go up there.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Shit!”

  “Watch your toes, man.” Max laughed, feeling too damned good about his purchase. A cop’s salary wasn’t huge, but the return on investment from rehabbing houses meant he could pretty much buy what he wanted. And he’d wanted an actual bedroom.

  It had been bugging him since he’d had his fingers inside Sarah’s tight, wet body the other night. Making her come with his hand on his sofa and then the mattress pushed against the wall had felt like fooling around in high school. Sarah had no complaints. But he kept thinking she deserved more. Better.

  So he’d gone out and ordered a few things. A bedroom set, some sheets, and a few new pillows, plus a comforter set that was pretty classy but still cool enough for dudes.

  Okay, it was a lot of shit for one night. But it was Sarah’s one night. The one she wouldn’t get a do-over for, and she’d trusted it to him.

  So yeah, he felt pretty good about it.

  “Am I even going to meet this girl again?”

  Max blinked.

  “Don’t try to bullshit me. This stuff is for Sarah. You can’t seem to go more than fifteen minutes without mentioning something downright amazing about her, but I haven’t seen her since the wedding, and as far as I can tell, she wasn’t actually there with you.”

  Max grunted, shaking his head. “I don’t talk about her that much.”

  The look CJ gave him suggested otherwise. “Yeah? Then how do you explain me knowing her favorite dessert is a brownie, she’s got that new Samsung phone, she’d like to visit Thailand someday, and she doesn’t know how to ski.”

  When Max just blinked at him, CJ gave an abbreviated shrug, thanks to the two-thousand-pound bed they were hefting. “I’ve got more if you want it.”

  “Not necessary.” Then looking at the man he trusted with his life, Max asked, “For real? I talk about her that much?”

  “Don’t freak out. It’s cool to see you into someone like this. But yeah, me and everyone else at the precinct are wondering when you’re gonna bring her around.”

  “I don’t know, man. We’ll have to see.” He wouldn’t be bringing her around to anything. They only had one date left.

  But he couldn’t think about that now.

  “You better at least have some beer in the fridge,” CJ said, wiping the sweat from his brow as they got everything set up.

  “Yep. Grab two, and then get your ass back in here. You’re not off the hook until we figure out what the hell a sham is.”

  * * *

  Maybe it was old-fashioned of her, but Sarah had hoped to keep the number of people in on the demise of her virginity to a minimum. Just the critical players. Max, for all the obvious reasons, and Piper, because Sarah couldn’t keep anything from her. But as for the casual acquaintances and burgeoning new friendships? Sorry, but not so much. Which was why Sarah had been dodging and weaving for nearly two days, terrified if she spent more than five consecutive minutes with any one person, they were going to know.

  Her solution: going solo. She’d wanted a new dress for her date, so she’d gone shopping. Alone. Which turned out to be a much more efficient way of getting it done. She’d hit the lingerie store and a beauty shop where she’d stocked up on an entire arsenal of products sworn to make her skin irresistible. Everywhere.

  Now she was dressed in her new black cocktail dress, wearing the sexiest lingerie the boutique had to offer and a pair of stiletto heels she’d actually purred over when she saw them in the store. Her hair was up in a loose twist with a few tendrils hanging around her face, and for jewelry she’d chosen a pair of gold chandelier earrings with a delicate chain bracelet to match.

  The intercom buzzed, and the butterflies that had been gently flitting about suddenly went mosh pit. This was it. Tonight, Max wouldn’t stop; he wouldn’t hold back. Tonight, he’d give her everything she’d been asking for. And tomorrow…it would be over.

  She hadn’t been thinking about that part of their arrangement, but now—

  The intercom buzzed again, and she rushed the last few steps down the hall.

  “Sorry, Max, come on up.”

  “Is Piper there?” he asked through the small speaker.

  She blinked, surprised by the question. “She’s out with friends.”

  “So, here’s the thing, Sarah. We’ve got reservations, and I’m a little worried if I get you alone up there, we might not make it out of that apartment again. And I really wanted to take you out someplace nice. Any chance you’ll meet me downstairs?”

  Her smile spread wide. “Far be it from me to get in the way of your plans.”

  “You are my plans.”

  Wow. With the power of his voice alone, the foreplay had begun.

  The restaurant was gorgeous. It was an intimate little French place designed to give diners the illusion of eating under the canopy of an enormous tree. Sprawling branches strung with white lights covered the ceiling and crawled down the walls. Everywhere she looked, there were little cutouts and nooks packed with rustic kitchen staples, flickering candles, or racks of wine. It was beautiful and so incredibly romantic that she had to remind herself more than once that the devastatingly sexy man playing with her fingers across the small table wasn’t hers to keep. He was doing her a favor. And like he’d promised, he was doing it very well.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked, setting his glass of Bordeaux aside.

  “Just thinking about everything you’ve done to make this night special. It’s too much.”

  He leaned forward, the cool gray of his eyes meeting hers. “It’s not too much. I told you, it’s going to be my first time too. We only get this first once, and I want to make the most of it.”

  “You’re a good guy, Max.”

  He shook his head. “If I were really that good, I wouldn’t be plotting to make tonight so off-the-charts incredible that the next guy doesn’t stand a chance at measuring up.”

  Her breath hitched while her insides clenched in anticipation as a heat only Max could inspire spread throughout her body.

  Max leaned back in his chair, his eyes leaving hers to catch the waiter’s attention as he signaled for the check.

  They took a cab back to Max’s place, riding quietly through the city streets
, and when they arrived and stood together in his living room, Sarah could barely breathe.

  “Nervous?” Max asked, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer, his thumbs tracing patterns across her knuckles. She was eager and excited. Aching for more of what Max had been giving her, but definitely nervous.

  Her mind whirled with less-than-sexy thoughts: How long would it take? How much would it hurt? If it lasted, would she even want it to?

  And then the worst thought of them all.

  What would happen when it was over? How would she go from that heart-fluttery nervous anticipation every time she even thought his name to just being friends?

  “A little,” she admitted quietly. “But not because I don’t want to do this.”

  Max nodded, wrapping his arms around her for a moment before bowing his head to kiss her neck softly, gently, sending a wave of goose bumps cascading across her skin.

  He kissed her earlobe and, voice low, confessed, “Me too.”

  Her eyes shot wide as Max stepped back, looking anything but nervous. Yet, she knew he wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, at least on some level.

  How did he always have just the right thing to say? Know just how to put her at ease. Casting him a flirtatious grin, she promised, “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”

  And there was that devastating grin she loved. The one almost as effective as his kisses. “Come here, Sarah.”

  She followed him to the room off the living room where he’d had his office stuff the last time she’d been there. Only today, what she found beyond the french doors stopped her heart. She looked back into the living room, and in the place where his mattress and the milk crates with his clothes had been in the far corner was his desk and more milk crates with files and books.

  She looked back at him. “You did all this for me?”

  “You like it?” he asked, shoving his hands deep in his trouser pockets, so his broad shoulders pulled forward, somehow making him look all the bigger. All the sexier.

  “I do. But…” She hesitated. He’d lived in the building for six months. Sean had been relentless in giving Max crap about never buying furniture. And now tonight, he’d brought her to this beautiful, private space complete with matching nightstands on either side of the raised bed and an area rug on the floor. “I love it.”