An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)

by Sophie Jackson

  Grace blinked, her teeth worrying her bottom lip a little. “Oh.”

  Max wasn’t sure why he’d felt guilty when his uncle had asked for his help and he’d said yes and why now, when he told Grace, he felt it again. “Yeah, we go on Thursday morning bright and early.” He tried to smile. “Hey, just think of all the peace and quiet you’ll get while I’m away.”

  Grace breathed a small laugh but it fell flat between them, settling with a heavy silence that covered them both like a blanket. Max fidgeted at her side, the need to say something fighting with the urge he had to hug her. Her next question relieved him of doing either.

  “How did you get in here?”

  Shit. Max had been hoping that somehow that question would have passed her by. “Your hide-a-key.”

  Grace frowned. “But only my brother and Ruby know about that.”

  Max shifted nervously. “Yeah, about that, look, don’t be mad at her, okay?”

  “At who? Ruby?”

  He nodded. “I don’t want you to freak out, but I got worried when you didn’t show or answer your phone and I didn’t know if you were back from DC, because you hadn’t called, so I came over. I didn’t know if something had happened, because it looked like you were home, but you didn’t come to the door. So I phoned Ruby and she told me where it was so I could get in and check on you.” He paused and swallowed. “Sorry.”

  Grace smirked. “You’re cute when you ramble.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are so.” She waved a hand, stopping him from arguing further. “Why would I have freaked out?”

  Max shrugged. “Strange man in your house without permission. I mean, I didn’t want to assume you’d be okay with me doing that but I was—”

  “Worried?”

  Max narrowed his eyes at her smile and huffed. “Yeah. But I wish I hadn’t bothered. I don’t think I’ll ever get the whiff of vomit off me.”

  Grace giggled and snorted incredulously as she said, “Strange man.”

  Max shook his head. She was definitely feeling better. “Whatever. I’m going to make some coffee.” He threw his legs off the bed and thumped to the floor.

  “Max?”

  He stopped at the doorway and turned.

  “Thank you for helping me. Really.”

  Max dipped his chin, her sincerity and wide, innocent eyes yanking the grumpiness from him and replacing it with something warmer, something that would allow Grace to get away with just about anything. It was so good to see her.

  “You’re welcome.” He exhaled and threw a thumb over his shoulder. “You want something?”

  “Penicillin,” Grace muttered.

  “What?”

  “I’m allergic to penicillin. You know? Just in case this happens again.”

  Max snorted. “Christ. I hope not. But thanks. That’s good to know.”

  “Any time, Rambler.”

  “Shut up.” Max turned and headed out of the room. “Vomit Face.”

  By Wednesday, Grace was feeling her normal self again. Max had been an angel, all but bending over backward to make sure she had everything she wanted or needed to make her better. He’d stayed until she’d fallen asleep on Monday night after making her toast and tea for lunch, leaving her to snooze while he watched TV and even running her a bath when Grace complained that she could no longer cope with her own gross, sweaty smell. The only negative was that Max had ignored her unsubtle requests for him to join her in the lavender bubbles. He’d grumbled about her being the death of him and left her to soak.

  She’d woken Tuesday morning to a handwritten note on the pillow next to her:

  Hope you slept. I left a muffin and a latte on the kitchen counter. I’m helping my uncle but I’ll call over later and see how you are. Max.

  Grace tried to curtail the butterflies that swarmed as she read his note over and over, trying like hell to not see the caring words as anything more than a friend helping another friend, but it was futile. She was falling faster and harder than she’d ever dared to hope for again and she had no way of stopping it.

  “Penny for them,” Holly asked, bumping her hip against Grace’s as Grace’s towel did another circuit of the bar.

  Grace startled, knocking a half-filled glass of Heineken and catching it before it toppled completely, earning a smirk from Earl, a huff from Caleb, and a knowing giggle from Holly. Grace had no idea how long she’d been standing there, drifting into space with only her thoughts of Max to keep her company. She felt her cheeks heat and scurried away to serve a couple of regulars.

  “Hey, Grace!” Ruby’s voice echoed from the entrance as she all but skipped through it. She was still in her coveralls, covered in grease, having obviously come straight from work, a small pink bow bouncing in her hair. Grace smiled. She still had no idea how such a girly girl as Ruby could love getting so messy while working on the cars she did. It was a dichotomy to which Grace had warmed quickly.

  “So, with Josh being away, you know what that means, right?” Ruby literally vibrated where she stood. “Girls’ night!”

  Caleb turned to them both from his usual seat at the bar. “Away?”

  “Yeah,” Ruby answered. “They’re helping Dad’s friend in Philly. He’s taking a team of them.” She turned back to Grace. “Well?”

  Grace laughed, popping the cap and placing a bottle of Diet Pepsi in front of her. “Sounds . . . interesting.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You can’t mope for the next week while Max is gone.”

  Grace’s shoulders snapped back when Holly and Ruby shared a look. Caleb cleared his throat and eyed her over the lip of his glass as he drained it. “I wouldn’t—why would I? Don’t be silly.”

  She blatantly ignored the snickering coming from the others sitting around the bar, who apparently knew that she would, indeed, be wallowing and missing Max like crazy while he was gone. Jesus, she was so transparent and this town was too damn small. “Fine,” she said, blinking slowly. “I’m in.”

  Ruby grinned. “Awesome. I’ll call the girls and arrange something for this weekend. Storms are forecast next week so we need to plan now.”

  “Storms?”

  Ruby waved her off. “Just a little thunder and lightning. We usually get a good few days of them. Clears the air real good.” She sipped the rest of her drink, threw a bill on the bar, and started walking backward toward where she’d appeared. “Now excuse me while I go and abuse my husband in all the ways he loves before he leaves tomorrow.”

  Grace laughed, shaking her head and wondering whether she’d get the chance to abuse Max in all the ways he loved before he left. With that thought, however, instead of excitement, she was suddenly struck with an intense feeling of melancholy. This work trip with Vince had brought home the very real prospect that Max wasn’t going to be around Preston County forever.

  Grace knew he had a life in New York, friends who were close enough to warrant being called family. His best friend was getting married soon and he was going to be best man. He had a life waiting for him and Grace had to wonder whether she’d factor into any of it when he decided to return. Of course, in terms of romance, she knew that it was an impossibility; Max had made that clear. But could they remain friends or would Max simply take off and leave without a second glance?

  “Grace, honey.”

  Swallowing down her uneasiness for another day, Grace looked over to Holly, who was holding the draft pump at a ninety-degree angle, getting nothing but gurgling foam. “Can you go down and change the keg out?”

  Grace smiled wanly. “Sure.”

  She dropped her towel to the bar and headed toward the stone steps, located at the back of the building She went down to the cellar, flicking on lights as she went. The place had always given her the heebie-jeebies—God alone knew what creepy-crawlies hung out in the nooks and crannies of the place—but she was slowly getting used to it. As long as she could hear the people in the bar above, she didn’t start to panic.

  After figh
ting with a box of Coke syrup, she finally located the empty barrel and rolled another one into its place, reattaching the pipe and calling out an “Okay” for Holly to start pumping.

  “Loud little thing, aren’t you?”

  Grace squeaked in surprise, whirling around, hand clutched to her chest to find Max smirking in that devastatingly handsome way of his, leaning nonchalantly against one of the cellar’s support columns. He was filthy. His arms were caked in dirt and she could see smudges on his face where he’d wiped at the sweat he’d no doubt worked up. It had been a scorcher of a day. His blue jeans were blackened, as was his gray T-shirt, which stretched gorgeously across his chest. She imagined he smelled incredible, all musky and man. He was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

  “What are you doing down here?” she asked, her voice shaking with the adrenaline still coursing through her. She wasn’t scared, of course, but the way Max was staring at her made her body tighten in ways that were altogether delicious.

  His stare strayed back up to the steps to the basement door, which was still open a crack. He smirked and dropped his chin, his stare predatory. “Imagine my delight when Holly said you were down here. All.”

  He took a step toward her. “By.”

  Another. “Yourself.”

  Grace’s back hit cold stone. Her chest heaved. “And why would that delight you?”

  He paused, his gaze snapping from her denim skirt to her face. “Because I vividly remember you saying, while you were riding me, that you’d thought about me fucking you here.”

  Grace remembered, too. God, she remembered everything from that day. The first time he slipped inside her and whispered her name as though it were a prayer. The feel of his hands so tight on her hips, the sound of his skin slapping against hers, and the twitch of his orgasm inside of her.

  Her recollecting that perfect day must have appeared like hesitancy, and the fire and want in Max’s dark eyes died a little.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m an idiot.” His hand found his hair quickly. “I just thought that we could, because you said— But if you don’t—”

  “Max?” Grace interrupted, moving her hands to the edge of her denim skirt, heat lurching across her skin.

  He watched her movements like a hawk, swallowing when she lifted it, showing him her underwear. “Oh shit. Yeah?”

  “Shut up and fuck me.”

  He was on her in moments, yanking her panties down, dropping to his knees, and burying his face between her legs. Grace cried out before slamming her forearm against her mouth. His tongue was perfect, so damned perfect, and when he . . . oh, God, did that thing against her clit, she about fell apart in his hands. He was voracious and, once again, Grace fantasized about what his mouth against hers would be like. She wanted to taste his tongue so badly. Would he be as hungry? What would his lips feel like as he came? Would he—she called out—kiss her . . . just. Like. That?

  “I want you,” she managed, gasping, vaguely aware that voices from the bar were drifting down to them through the open door.

  Max eyes lit further. He pulled his mouth from her. “Yes. How? Tell me how.”

  His deep voice and the way it curled around her with lust and desire sparked something in Grace that she’d thought long lost. Her back straightened and her chin lifted as confidence and sexiness began to fill her so quickly, she thought she might burst.

  This man. This beautiful man on his knees before her wanted her. Really wanted her. He wanted to please her, to make her feel good. And at that moment it didn’t matter to Grace how long that might be for. No, he wouldn’t be in West Virginia forever and that hurt and scared her more than she could possibly allow it to, but at that very moment, from the look on his face, wet with her need for him, she knew he would have done anything she’d asked.

  Grace turned, placing her palms against the wall, and arched, pushing her ass toward him. “Like this.”

  “Fucking Christ,” he muttered, not moving but for his hands, which ghosted so carefully over her skin, cupping her hips, and trailing his thumbs between her cheeks. He breathed deeply and grunted when his teeth scraped across her ass. “You’re not playing fair,” he muttered.

  “I don’t want to play,” Grace answered. “I just want to feel you.”

  She felt his lips against her butt before he stood abruptly. The sound of his heavy belt clanging as he undid it made goose bumps pop up along Grace’s arms. He pressed against her, his cock hard against her thigh.

  “Can you keep quiet?” he grunted before he ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth.

  “No,” she gasped honestly.

  He laughed darkly. “Good, because I want them all to hear what I do to you.”

  Grace’s entire body shivered.

  “Shhh, it’s all right,” he whispered next to her ear, his nose trailing up the lobe while his tongue darted out to lick her neck. “I’ve got you.” He pressed his large hands to the small of her back and, for a brief moment, his voice lost its husk, becoming careful, concerned. “You okay?”

  Grace’s eyes rolled at that. “Yes. Please,” she whimpered, pushing back. “I need you.”

  The tip of his cock brushed against her. “How do you need me?”

  “Hard.” The word slipped from her mouth before Grace even had the urge to say it, but it was the God’s honest truth. She wanted him to fuck her, and fuck her hard. She wanted to feel him inside her for days so that she wouldn’t feel so damned hollow when he left in the morning.

  “That’s my girl.” He was inside her in one swift movement, dragging a groan from them both and lifting Grace almost to her tiptoes. He was perfect, filling her almost to the point of discomfort until he pulled his hips back and pushed in again. She mewed with each thrust and gasped his name as he panted in her ear. He was careful not to crowd her, not to hold her against the wall so that she’d panic, and she adored him all the more for it.

  “Will you think about this?” he asked, slamming into her again, his hands lusciously tight on her hips. “While I’m away. Will you think about my cock in you?”

  Grace loved the beautiful filth that tumbled from his mouth. She dropped her head back to his shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Will you miss it?”

  I’ll miss you.

  “So much.”

  He moaned and moved his hands from her hips to her breasts, fighting with her vest top to get under her bra. He squeezed, his fingers pinching her skin. “You feel so good on my cock.” His forehead met her shoulder, as though he was watching himself move in her. “Look at you taking me. You’re so beautiful, Gracie. You fuck so good.”

  He mumbled and murmured words so dirty and unintentionally tender that Grace’s eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. “Oh.”

  “Yeah?” Max asked, taking her desperate sound as a reason to tilt his hips and find that place inside of her that he knew would have her coming in moments.

  “More,” she begged, vaguely aware that her voice was getting louder. “Please, Max, more.”

  With a loud growl, Max slammed into her again and again, cursing and grunting and sweating against her. His fingers found her clit to rub and tease and get her there faster until, with a shout, he came, holding her so tightly to his chest that, when Grace’s orgasm smashed into her not two seconds later and her legs weakened with its force, she didn’t hit the floor. He held her to him, his breaths heavy and loud in her ear, as she squeezed him inside her, knowing that he would pull out quickly but wanting, no, needing him to stay inside her longer.

  He made sure she was capable of holding herself up when he slowly pulled his body from hers. She took a second to rest her forehead against the wall and laughed, watching him over her shoulder. She’d never felt more energized despite the fatigue that clutched her muscles. Max smiled back, discarding the condom with a tissue he pulled from his pocket in a nearby trash can, and zipped himself up. He drifted closer to her, his palm smoothing across her ass at the same time a sated and se
nsual growl rumbled in his chest.

  “Look at you,” he murmured. “So sexy. I love that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

  Grace couldn’t be sure if the hint of covetousness in his voice was real or of her own imagination. His dark gaze settled on hers before he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. It was the closest he’d ever been to kissing her properly and Grace’s breath caught.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling back and helping her turn around while she fixed her skirt.

  She smiled and nodded, watching as he bent down and picked her panties up from the floor. He held them up, looking at them with a hint of dark playfulness.

  “What?”

  “I’m a little torn,” he confessed. “I want nothing more than to put these in my pocket and take them with me, so I can touch them while I’m away from you.” Grace gaped. “But the idea of you being pantyless while you’re working with Deputy AssCrack sitting at the bar makes me want to rip his eyeballs out of their sockets.”

  He handed them over with a small smile edged with embarrassment. Whether it was because of what he’d just admitted wasn’t clear, but Grace couldn’t have cared less. His words made her feel nothing but blissful and altogether shameless. Take her panties with him? Christ, the man knew exactly what to say to make her insanely hot.

  It was such a strange paradox. Rick had, during their marriage, been a controlling, possessive asshole who continually told Grace that she belonged to him, that she was his to treat as he wanted. It had been awful, degrading, and had caused Grace to feel worthless. But when Max allowed his possessiveness to slip out, as he had each time they’d been intimate, it created a smolder within Grace, a deep heat that settled in her bones and made her want to take him to bed and help him see that he could love again if he just let her in.

  She felt anything but worthless when Max looked at her.

  She pulled on her underwear and fixed her clothes as best as she could. Max snickered behind his hand.