by Anthology
He smiled. “No. Provincetown AIDS Support Group. It’s a local group that I support.”
“Oh, that’s really nice. As long as you’re not making me look silly.”
“You could never look silly. Please, tell me what you wanted to tell me. I want to know.”
Her eyes darkened again, and he squeezed her hand. “When I was a senior in college, I dated this guy. He was handsome and smart and funny, the kind of guy that everyone loved. Things were fine for a long time, but as we got closer to graduation, we moved in together, and over the next few months, he changed. I’ve never understood what caused him to change, but he did. He became verbally abusive, withdrawn.”
Treat’s protective juices were flowing, and he did his best to rein them in. “Go on,” he said. If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.
“It became, I don’t know, a way of life, I suppose. He called me names and told me I was worthless, and in all honesty, I was weak.” She searched his eyes. “You look like you’re ready to explode. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything else.”
“No. Continue, please.” The thought of someone being verbally abusive to Max pushed every button in his body. The anger coursing through him was stronger than any fury he’d ever felt.
“Anyway, as I said, I was weak. My parents are great—they really are—but Mom and I have never really talked about relationships.” Max shook her head. “Before my grandmother died, she told me that the secret to a lasting relationship was to always speak your mind. But my mother had already convinced me that was the wrong road to take and that I shouldn’t complain or try to change things.” She furrowed her brow. “I think my grandmother told me that because of how my mom’s relationship was. She was so submissive. Not that my father was ever abusive, but Mom never really spoke her mind.” Max sighed. “It’s no wonder that Mom and I never talked about relationships.”
Treat put his arm around her waist and slid her protectively against him.
“Anyway, he’d grabbed my arm and—Treat, you’re trembling.”
He unclenched his jaw just long enough to say, “I don’t want to scare you, but I’d like to kill this asshole.”
“There’s more, but I’ll stop—”
“I’m not an evil person. I’m not going to track him down like an animal and hurt him, Max.” Though I want nothing more. “But I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t mad enough to want to do those things, and I promised myself I’d always be honest with you.” An intense heat of worry soared through Treat. He took a deep breath, trying to understand the reaction that bore a hole in his gut. It could only be driven by his love for Max.
She touched his chest, and that simple skin-to-skin contact brought his anger down a notch. She’s here. She’s safe.
“That was the only time he’d ever grabbed me, and I lost it. After he went to bed, I was still crying. That night, my mom happened to call, and I didn’t even have to say anything. I couldn’t say anything. That was the one and only time she ever said anything to me about a specific relationship. She said one thing to me, and that one thing changed everything in my life. She said, ‘Get out.’”
“So you left?”
“I did. I packed my car and drove all the way to Colorado and I never looked back. But the thing you need to know is what that did to me. In college, I wasn’t the woman who worked for Chaz and could run a festival of over thirty thousand with her eyes closed. I was weak, submissive. I guess I’d patterned myself after my mother without even realizing it, but then, after he grabbed me and I found the courage to leave, I knew I could never be that woman again. I read everything I could about relationships, and I built walls around my heart. Big, giant, thick, impenetrable walls.”
“Oh, Max. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve grown up, and I am strong and self-sufficient and all the things I strived to be. But after dealing with Scarlet over the phone for all those months, and wondering about you—fantasizing about you—when I finally met you, a part of me let down those defenses. I became a bumbling idiot. I couldn’t talk or think, and I was thrown right back into that bedroom again.”
“You’re none of those things. You’re the strongest woman I know, besides Savannah, but she’s a whole other story. She was softer before our mom died, too.”
Max put her hand on her heart. “I can’t imagine what your family has been through. But for me, the feelings that came rumbling back scared me. A lot. I felt myself falling back into that role of a submissive girl again, and I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn’t obey my mind. I suddenly felt that softer side of me reemerging, the side that screamed for me to pull down the defenses that I’d worked so hard to create. I wanted you to take care of me—and that, more than anything, scared the daylights out of me. I didn’t want to be hurt again. I mean, how can you possibly know you want a man to take care of you in that way after one kiss on the hand?
“My heart was controlling everything in me, and my heart wanted you. It was you I was looking for that afternoon when I met Justin. I didn’t sleep with him. We shared one good-night kiss, but I never slept with him or even let him touch me. He was a filler, Treat. He filled the gap that you created.”
Treat pulled her to him and held her tight. He was relieved that she hadn’t slept with Justin. Even the thought of their bodies tangled together made him sick. But he was more relieved by what she’d just said. He filled the gap that you created.
Max pulled away. “I want to finish telling you before I lose my courage.” She took a deep breath. “This is the hardest part to explain. When you looked at me the way you did, it was just one look, and I know that it’s been blown way out of proportion.”
“No. I never should have done it.”
“Agreed.” She smiled. “But it was just a look between two strangers. We weren’t lovers or really even friends at that point. I mean, we’d spoken on the phone once or twice, but really I was dealing so much with Scarlet that you were just this elusive name and image in my mind. And I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t fantasized about what you’d look like and how I’d feel when I finally met the intelligent, generous man behind the deep voice, but we had only just met. So I did blow it out of proportion. When you gave me that dirty stare, I was afraid that if I went out with you, I’d be in the same trap as I was in college, and I can never go back there again.”
“I’d never do that to you.”
“I know that now. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You’ve already shown me that you will never do that to me. It’s not who you are, but you need to know that my defenses go up when my feathers are ruffled, and I’m stubborn and I can be savagely strong when I need to be. So I need to know that if that happens, if I get scared and those walls go up, you’ll love me through it.”
“I’ll love you through anything, Max.” He sat up straighter, until they were eye to eye. “I will love you through the good and the bad, the fights and the…” He slipped his arm under her T-shirt and wrapped his arm around her waist. “The spirited, frisky nights. I want you to be strong and tell me I’m full of shit when I am. I want you to call me on anything I do that’s hurtful or uncalled for. Max, I’m thirty-seven years old, brought up by a man’s man who was also the most gentlemanly man I know. I don’t want to be any less than he is.”
Max blushed. “I met him.”
He brushed her hair from her shoulder. “I know.” Treat didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “Did Da—”
Max laughed. “Shh. He was very respectful. Besides, none of those brothers of yours are half the man you are.”
She lifted her chin and kissed him lightly on his lips. He pulled her closer and felt her body relaxing, her heart opening up to him. He slid his tongue into her mouth, and she tasted so sweet that he never wanted to stop kissing her. She leaned into him, pushing him down into the mattress, and it took all his strength to pull away.
“Not like this, Max.”
“I’m going to try really hard to believe that you mean
that in some other way than that you don’t want me, because right now, it feels a lot like rejection.”
He ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “Oh, I want every piece of you, but not tonight, not after all we’ve gone through. Sleep on it, and if you still feel the same tomorrow, then I’ll unleash the lust that’s been building for the past six months, but I don’t want to take the chance of you changing your mind. It will hurt too much if I’ve just made love to you.”
She drew her brows together and cocked the right side of her mouth up. “You’re a guy. Aren’t you always supposed to want sex?”
“I’m a man, and there is no sex that equates to making love to you.” He wrapped her in his arms and closed his eyes, willing his hands not to wander to all the dark places that they begged to go.
Chapter Twenty-Four
MAX AWOKE TO the smell of coffee. She went into the bathroom and was surprised to find all of her toiletries laid out in a basket beside the sink. Her shampoo and conditioner were already in the shower. Treat was so thoughtful. She wondered if she’d had an incredible dream, or if last night had really happened.
After she brushed her teeth, she followed a sweet aroma downstairs, where the table was set for two with warm croissants, fresh fruit, and hard-boiled eggs, complete with two different types of jams and butter. In the center of the table sat an enormous vase of pink Knock Out roses. Max’s hand covered her heart. She turned toward Treat and saw another vase on the counter, bursting with her favorite flowers.
“Treat?”
“Good morning, sweetness.” Treat was already showered and dressed.
God, he looked handsome in his jeans and T-shirt, with a thick, comfy cable-knit sweater thrown over his shoulder. She followed the floral aroma into the cozy living room, where an antique metal bucket overflowed with more Knock Out roses. You are the most thoughtful man on earth.
“You did all this?” Max asked as he handed her a deliciously sweet-smelling cup of coffee.
“It wasn’t much, but I figured you’d be hungry. Vicky called. She said that she wanted to make sure you were okay, but I think she really wanted to make sure that I had been nice to you.”
Drawn in by his smile, Max went to him. “Thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “The roses…they’re gorgeous.”
“They line the curve of the driveway. Fate?” he asked with a shrug.
Fate indeed. She sat at the table, appreciating his generosity and smelling the sweet aroma of the flowers, and then looked out the windows at the bay below. The sky was a powdery blue with no clouds in sight, and Max couldn’t help but feel as though the sky mirrored how she felt, like the fog that had hung over her and Treat had evaporated and all that was left was the beauty between them.
“Thanks for bringing my things in for me,” she said.
“I put your clothes in the dresser drawers.”
“Treat, I’m not moving in.” Why did she feel compelled to define that line?
He sat beside her and kissed her cheek. “Not yet, anyway,” he said. “See? That’s why I didn’t want to get too close last night. Women are fickle,” he teased. She hit him with a napkin.
“If you don’t have plans, I’d really like to show you around.”
“How can we go anywhere with the crowds?” She popped a piece of the croissant into her mouth.
“They’ll all be gone by eleven. In fact, they’ll be gone until next May. The festival is like the last hurrah of the season.”
“What time is it?”
“Ten thirty.”
“Ten thirty? Why didn’t you wake me up?” She covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”
He lowered her hand. “You were tired. Besides, part of loving someone unconditionally means letting their body do whatever it needs to do. And your body needed to sleep.”
Max let her mind wander. What would it be like to be married to you? To wake up beside you every morning, and go to sleep in your arms each night. She’d slept better last night than she had any other night that she could remember.
Vicky’s words came tumbling back to her. You just need to find your tiller, Max. And then later, He’s your tiller, Max. Trust me.
He’s your tiller.
MAX WAS GORGEOUS wearing only his T-shirt and her panties. Her hair was still mussed from sleep, and her eyelids were heavy with desire. Treat lowered his lips to hers, closing his eyes and reveling in the feel of her tender kiss. God I’ve missed you. She pressed her hips against him, heightening his desire. He pulled back and took her face between his large, strong hands. The love and lust he felt for Max coalesced as he looked into her wanting eyes, and he didn’t know what to do with it as it sent his urges rushing forward. A voice in the back of his mind told him to go slow.
“Max,” he whispered.
Max’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
“I don’t know how to love without you, Max,” he said. He narrowed his eyes as he searched hers for any hint of hesitation. She’d been through so much over the previous few days, and the last thing he wanted was to force himself on her—even if every ounce of him craved her love. In her eyes he saw need and want—and something that resembled love, spurring him on. He told himself to go slow, but watching her breasts heave beneath the thin cotton shirt, her taut nipples teasing him, he had to grit his teeth against the urge to throw her on the kitchen table and make love to her until she forgot her own name.
Max slipped her hands beneath his shirt and ran her fingers over his abs, sending a tug of anticipation to his groin. She touched the button of his jeans and stood on her tiptoes—no match for the foot difference between them. He closed the distance between them and settled his lips over hers again. Damn you taste sweet. Her tongue flicked his, then swept his mouth in fast, deep strokes. He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hair fell like a curtain around their faces as she pressed her body into him and settled her lips over his. She smelled like freshly washed linens and her body felt so damn good against him. Her kisses were rough and hungry. The confusion of the days before came rushing back. The pain of his walking away from her pierced his heart. He had to bury it. Had to get that burn out of his body. Max ran her hands down the sleek lines of his biceps and grabbed hold of his bulbous muscles. Her fingers strained against the girth of them as he placed her on the table and pushed his hips between her legs, at the same time he pulled her forward. His erection strained against his zipper, hard against the thin veil of cotton that separated them.
“Do you still want this?” Treat asked through heavy breaths.
“Yes. God yes, Treat.” Her words came out in a rush of hot breath as she reached for his shirt. He lifted her shirt over her head. Her breasts were so perfect, round and firm. He reached behind him and in one swift move he yanked his own T-shirt off, exposing his massive chest and broad shoulders, before taking her in another rough kiss, blinding him with electric shocks, and before she could catch her breath he was stealing her oxygen again. She moaned into his mouth, and that sexy little noise sent his mind reeling. The need to make love to her clutched him like a wicked hand, tightening every muscle in his body. His teeth grazed her lips, her chin, her neck, while his hands groped her ribcage, brushing the underside of her breasts.
“Yes,” she whispered.
His tongue stroked her skin, trailing its way down the arc of her breasts. He took one breast greedily into his mouth. She gasped and buried her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth harder against her. She arched into him, gasping as he moved from one breast to the other, exposing her to the cool morning air. She reached for his jeans and fumbled with the button, before giving up and stroking him through the harsh material of his jeans. Treat grabbed her hand and held it in his. He had to have her—more of her. His love for her grew by the second, and every passionate kiss and every sensual caress drove his need deeper. He had to claim her. He took a step back, pinning Max to the table with a hot and hungry stare, and leaving her p
anting, wearing nothing but her thong, her legs open, her body eager. Jesus she was beautiful. He wished they were upstairs, on the couch, anywhere more respectful, but he was too far gone. He’d never make it another minute. In the next breath his body took over. Fuck it. He laid her back on the table and dragged his hands down her breasts, her ribs, to her hips, and slid her to the edge of the table. He rubbed her through the tiny damp swatch of her panties. The need in him burned ruthlessly through his veins. He slipped his finger beneath the material and touched her silky, wet skin. Her eagerness sent a thrill thrumming through his body. Max closed her eyes, arching her hips against his hand as he bent and kissed the tender skin at the top of her thigh, probing her with his fingers before slipping her thong over her slim hips and down her legs. The first flick of his tongue made her shiver beneath his hands. He stroked her sensitive folds with his tongue, and it wasn’t enough. She was too sweet for just a taste. He strengthened his licks, finding her sensitive nub with his finger and teasing her until it was swollen and she squirmed on the hard, wooden table. He settled his mouth around her sex, raking his teeth over her clit.
“Yes. Please, Treat,” Max cried. She dug her hands in his hair again and arched against his mouth as he pleasured her with faster, more urgent strokes of his tongue. She gasped sexy, fast, little breaths. He felt the tension mounting in the muscles of her thighs and in the force of her hands in his hair. He was determined to give her what she wanted—to love her the way she deserved. He licked faster, probing her with his finger. Max shook her head from side to side. She released his hair and clawed at the table as her body pulsed around the tip of his tongue and she cried out again—a loud indiscernible plea.
He put his hands flat on her belly, licking as the pulses continued in fast succession, then slowly eased, before finally coming to rest, her body raising with each deep breath. Treat ripped open his fly and stepped from his pants, setting his formidable erection free. He grabbed his wallet from the counter and ripped open a condom with his teeth, then sheathed his eager length. In the next breath he pulled her hips forward and thrust into her. Max gasped at the deep penetration, and there was no quelling his primal urges. She grabbed at his shoulders as he took her breast into his mouth and buried himself deeper, thrusting over and over again, before wrapping his powerful arm around her and pulling her to the edge of the table so he could push harder. Every nerve was on fire. Every thrust against her hips left him wanting more, a stronger connection. His thoughts became fragmented. He was blinded by the mounting tension within him.