by Steph Nuss
“Well?” Harper chirped, struggling to contain her excitement.
Paige nodded at Drake and then he confirmed. “Hell yes, we are! Paige is pregnant!”
The table erupted into joyful cheers, hollers, and congratulations as we all stood and hugged one another. In the few years I’d known Paige, I’d never seen her look so happy, she practically glowed. Pregnancy and love did that to a woman though. Drake leaned in and kissed her, and her cheeks flushed with all the attention as we sat back down.
“Thanks, guys,” she said, smiling brightly. “It’s still really early, but we decided we wanted you all to know. We didn’t want to keep it a secret.”
“When did you find out?” Harper asked, leaning into Maverick.
“Well,” Drake said, his eyes landing on Max. “We had some help from a friend.”
“What!” I scoffed, jaw dropped. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
An innocent smile graced his lips before he leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek as if that made it all better. “It wasn’t my news to tell. I promised them I wouldn’t, but trust me, I really wanted to.”
“Fine,” I mused, quickly forgiving him. “Now, I really have to know how it all happened if Max was involved.”
Paige told us the story of their meeting, and how Max’s donuts were the true culprit.
“Man, donuts?” Elly questioned in a depressed tone. “You can’t have donuts now? Which means we can’t eat them around you.”
Paige laughed. “How often did we ever really have them before? They’re not good for us, so it’s a good thing my body is rejecting them.”
“I know,” Elly said, rolling her eyes. “But still.”
“It would just be nice to have the option of a donut if we want,” Tessa added.
Our drinks arrived and Fletcher quickly popped open the bottle of champagne while Drake poured Paige a glass of ice water. Bayler handed us each a glass and Fletcher filled them half full, and then he raised his glass up for a toast and we all followed suit.
“To babies!” he said, smiling at each of us around the booth.
“To babies!” We cheered, laughing.
“May they all be happy and healthy,” he added.
“To friends, family, and lovers!” Max continued, staring directly at me.
“To friends, family, and lovers!”
In an affectionate tone he added, “May we cherish every moment with them.”
We all downed our champagne and then started making ourselves another drink while Paige sat contently with her water. Max poured more champagne into my glass and added orange juice to it. As Maverick made Harper another drink, she scanned her phone.
“Max!” she exclaimed, eyes wide and excited as she elbowed me. “You posted a picture together!”
“Yep!” I said.
Max added. “We didn’t want someone else taking our first picture as a couple and posting it for the world to see.”
“Good. It’s best to have control over those things anyway,” Harper said with a wink.
“Although, it would have been nice if you would have given your publicist a head’s up about it first,” Paige jabbed, perking a brow up at Max. “My phone hasn’t stopped ringing.”
“Sorry,” he offered honestly. “I didn’t really think about that.”
“Let’s see it!” Elly said, snatching the phone from Harper’s hand.
“Cute!” Tessa added, tipping her drink at us.
Bayler looked over her shoulder. “That kissing one is hot.”
“Justin and I need more pictures together,” Tessa stated.
“We’ll have plenty of pictures taken at our wedding,” Justin said with a scowl.
“We’re taking one now,” she demanded, handing the phone to Elly. “Take our picture.”
Justin held back a grin and shot the camera a smoldering look while Tessa kissed him on the cheek, and Elly captured the moment. I never thought the day would come where I envied Justin Jameson’s relationship. As Justin’s old neighbor, I’d always worried he wouldn’t find someone. He’d been so introverted back then, I worried his quirks wouldn’t allow someone in long enough to stay, but thankfully, they had. Now, I admired them from across the booth and hoped that someday I’d have a love like theirs.
Maybe I already did … with Max.
“We need a group picture!” Paige stated.
“Yes!” Bayler cheered, tapping Fletcher on the chest. “Babe, get one of your girls over here to take our picture.”
Fletcher rolled his eyes and waved down another waitress.
Harper handed the girl her phone and asked. “Could you please take our picture?”
“Sure!”
The waitress motioned for us to squeeze together and then turned Harper’s phone horizontally. “Okay, on the count of three, I’m taking it.”
Max leaned back so he didn’t block me, and we all smiled as she counted down and then snapped the picture.
“That’s a good one, but I can take another one if you want,” she said, handing Harper the phone.
“One is fine. Thank you.” Harper opened the picture and beamed. “It’s perfect!”
She passed the phone around for everyone to see. When it made its way to our end of the table and Max showed me, I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed.
“It’s so good,” I said.
“What’s with that sigh?” he quipped, caressing the inside of my thigh with his thumb.
I handed the phone back to Harper and answered him quietly so that no one else would hear. “It’s a content sigh, not a bad one. I just don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for you.”
“Yes, you would,” he said genuinely. “You’re their friend, too.”
“No, I know,” I agreed, linking my arm through his. “They’ve invited me to go out with them several times, but I’ve always declined. I’ve always used Zane as an excuse. I’m out tonight because I’m with you. So, thank you, for reminding me that I’m not just a mom.”
“You’re so much more than that,” he stated sweetly.
His hand casually made its way further up my thigh beneath my dress, and I stopped him by placing my hand on top of his.
Because holy hell, his hand was wreaking havoc on my body.
“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he teased, mischief evident in his eyes. “Your skin is just so smooth.”
“I know.” Leaning in close, I put my lips near his ear and informed him. “But I’m not wearing a bra, and even though you think you’re not doing anything, you are. Just your hand touching my thigh is turning me on, and I would like to keep that a secret from the rest of the people here.”
“No bra?” he mused in a whispered tone, eyeing the deep neckline of my dress. “That’s convenient.”
“Yes, it will be later, when we’re back at your place,” I stated with a throaty laugh.
“Should we leave now?” he quipped, grazing my thigh once more.
I squeezed my thighs together, trapping his hand between them, and the warm breath from his laugh shot a tingle down my spine.
“My hand will gladly stay right where it’s at all night.”
“Seriously,” I giggled in a harsh whisper. “You have to stop touching my bare skin or I’m going to combust. I don’t care how pathetic that makes me sound.”
“You’re not pathetic.”
The pounding between my legs made me feel otherwise.
He removed his hand from between my thighs and subtly took my hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans. He covered my hand with his and guided me, rubbing my palm against him, and I silently thanked Fletcher for the large tables in his club so our friends couldn’t see what we were doing. Then he nipped at my earlobe before pressing his lips to the skin beneath my ear.
“Do you feel that, Whit?” he whispered.
I nodded, unable to speak as he moved our hands so mine felt more of his hardness.
“I need you just as bad, trust me.” He kis
sed me once more and then moved my hand off of him and weaved his fingers through mine. “I’ll stop touching you for now, but just know, I don’t want to.”
I reached for my mimosa and downed a large gulp in an attempt to cool myself down as Max joined the conversation at our table. I wasn’t even aware of what was being discussed—maybe Justin and Tessa’s wedding—I’d only caught them talking about cost per plate. The raging, needy hormones wading through my body distracted me from properly concentrating. I’d gone years without sex, without so much as touching myself because I was too tired from parenting, and now, here I sat like a teenager, trying to get myself under control.
Thank you, Maxton Waters.
***
Midnight struck, and we made the unanimous decision to call it a night. Even Cash, whose drunken eyes were red rimmed and glossy, didn’t argue when Paige pulled him out of the booth and told him he was going home. The rest of us had paced ourselves throughout the night. We women had danced some of the booze off an hour ago, and now my feet hurt more than anything else. As we made our way to the entrance, security pulled the vehicles around to the front. Through the front doors, it appeared as if the paparazzi had gone home, but Harper quickly debunked that theory.
“They’re just waiting for someone famous to leave,” she said, shaking her head. “They’ll be out in full force the minute we leave.”
“Damn,” I sighed. “I don’t know how you guys do this everywhere you go.”
“It’s not this bad everywhere,” Maverick stated, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“He’s right,” Max said, taking my hand. “It’s worse at places like clubs and restaurants.”
The limo Fletcher had rented pulled up to the front, followed by Max’s and Harper’s SUVs. We all said good-bye inside before Fletcher and Bayler led us out the front doors. Max and Harper’s security guards had made sure the four of us fell somewhere in the middle of the group with Tessa and Justin bringing up the rear. According to them, we were less accessible this way, but I still felt like anyone could attack us at any given moment even though Manny and Tuck walked on either side of us and Imani guarded Harper.
None of those measures stopped the harassment though. The minute the paps caught sight of Max, all hell broke loose again. Cameras flashed. Names and questions were yelled. Fans gathered behind the metal safety railings Fletcher had lined up outside the front of the club, begging for autographs.
“Max, who’s the lucky lady?”
“Max!”
“Jen!”
“Max!”
“Jen, look over here!”
“Jen and Maverick!”
Tuck opened the back door for us, and Max quickly helped me up into the truck. As Max got in, I watched a woman crawl over the railing and run toward the truck, screaming, “MAX! I LOVE YOU, MAX!”
Manny grabbed her before she could get too close and then handed her off to the club’s security.
“Holy shit,” I muttered as the door slammed shut behind Max.
“Yeah, that was fucking weird,” he said, shaking his head.
From within the truck, I didn’t feel any safer. My heart raced uncomfortably, beating like the quick sound of the shutters from all the cameras outside. We could still hear the paparazzi yelling and fans screaming for not only Max but also Harper under her designer alias, Jen Harper. Insanity buzzed outside the club just because two high-profile people exited the place. The hounding, the name-calling. It didn’t quit once we were inside the vehicle. Complete strangers called out their names and professed their love for them.
It was absolutely terrifying.
Max put his arm around my shoulders and held me tight. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I asked, glancing up at him.
The truck slowly started to pull away from the curb, and once we were in traffic, he exhaled audibly and answered. “Because it was chaos back there!”
I looked over his shoulder, saw Harper’s SUV still following behind us, and let out my own sigh of relief.
“Max,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. I tried my best to simmer my nerves. “It’s out of your control. You got us safely to the truck. That’s all that matters.”
“A woman ran over to us though,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned forward and spoke to Manny and Tuck. “What the fuck was up with that? How did she even get through?”
“She crawled over the railing,” Tuck answered.
“Jesus,” Max cursed, pressing his fingers into his forehead.
Frustration radiated off of him and filled the truck with tension. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed at the crazy woman, his security, or the fact that he was a celebrity, but he wasn’t helping my anxiety. Watching him seethe beside me, I realized the frightening toll fame took on him, and I struggled to mask my own fears of it now, knowing several pictures of us were taken tonight. The paparazzi were cutthroat. They didn’t care who he was with or what he was doing; they wanted the money from selling his photograph. Unfortunately, some fans weren’t any better. We had security with us, and someone still tried to attack us simply because they adored Max.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the insanity.
Regardless, this wasn’t how I imagined our night ending. I pictured it ending in a much more satisfying way that didn’t include either of us being upset.
Taking his hand away from his forehead, I hid my anxiety with a smile and slipped my fingers between his. “Hey, it’s over. Let’s just let it go for now.”
“Whit,” he sighed, his blue eyes studying my face. “This is my life. It’s scary and annoying and intrusive, and I don’t know how to change it besides becoming a recluse.”
“Nobody asked you to change it,” I said, brushing my lips along his jaw.
“How could you possibly want to be with a guy who puts you through that shit?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“It’s part of your life, not your entire life,” I answered. “I’ll learn to live with it because you’re worth it.”
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked rhetorically, offering me a smile.
“Well, according to them, I’m your lucky lady,” I teased.
“They have no idea that I’m the lucky one,” he said, laughing. “I’m just so ready to get home and relax with you.”
“Me too.”
***
We spent the rest of the ride home cuddling and kissing, so by the time we got to Max’s place, the chaos from the club was completely forgotten. He locked the door to his place behind us and immediately wrapped his arms around my waist. He started a trail of kisses down my neck that felt amazing, but I nearly groaned when I kicked off my heels, freeing my feet from their tortuous prison.
“God, I had to get those off. Dancing and those shoes do not mix.”
“How about I draw us a bath and we can relax?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear.
Twirling out of his arms, I placed my clutch on the kitchen island and faced him, determined to take him to bed. Eyeing the gorgeous man standing before me, my body ached to touch him, to feel every rigid inch of his body. I’d never felt so wanton before, so brazen and bold as I stepped closer to him. With my hands cradling the back of his neck, I flushed my body against his and said, “I think we can relax a much better way.”
“But you were all about the bathtub the last time you were here,” he quipped, resting his hands on my lower back.
“Tonight, I’m all about you,” I said, taking his mouth with mine.
I broke away from him, wearing a confident smile, as I tiptoed backwards toward the hall. He followed me closely, running his eyes down the length of my body.
“What’d you have in mind?” he mused in a hoarse, sexy voice.
Reaching for my hem, I dragged the dress up my body and over my head, and then I let it fall from my fingertips to the floor. I stood in front of him in nothing but my black, lace bikini panties, and the way he stared made me feel like a queen. No, I didn’t hav
e the biggest breasts or the tiniest waist. I had hips that gave me a son and breasts that had fed him. But Max’s hungry gaze never faltered as he admired my body.
I smiled and crooked my index finger at him. “Come with me.”
“You bet your ass I’ll be coming with you,” he retorted, scooping me up off the floor. I laughed as he tossed me over his shoulder and ran his hand down my spine to cup my ass. “I can’t wait to get these off of you.”
Staring at his ass, I ran my hands into the back pockets of his jeans and squeezed. “I almost didn’t wear any panties tonight.”
“Woman, it was bad enough knowing you weren’t wearing a bra,” he said, smacking my ass playfully. “I don’t think we could have stayed as long as we did tonight had you not worn panties.”
Back in his room—the light from the city illuminating the space—he laid me down on his bed and then straightened up and admired me, like I might disappear if he looked anywhere else. I wiggled my way up to the pillows and watched him kick off his boots and socks and undress. He pulled his shirt over his head and need ached between my legs at the sight of his magnificent abs. Palms sweaty, I stared as his hands flicked open his jeans and pushed them down his muscular thighs. He stood in front of me in only his briefs, and I swallowed hard at the realization that we were seconds away from having sex.
I’m about to have sex with Maxton Waters.
Nerves bullied the confidence right out of my system as I exhaled and threw my arms up above my head. My heart raced in an anxious beat, stressing how long it had been since I’d last had sex. The anticipation wreaked enough havoc, but the man himself completely took my breath away. This man was wanted by the world. The paparazzi. The millions of fans. Crazy women. Complete strangers. He could literally have anyone he wanted.
Anyone.
Any woman.
I had to remind myself that he was here with me.
He wants you.
He really wants you, Whitley.
Just him and me.
I cleared the negative mechanisms from my mind and focused on the here and now.
Just him and me.
No cameras, no questions.
Just us.
It was just us now.
“Whitley.” His sensual enunciation of my name silenced the nerves, allowing the spark of need to spread like wildfire over my body. He crawled onto the bed and took my left ankle in his hand, eyes staring into mine. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my ankle, and I tossed my head back at the burn of his rough stubble against my smooth skin. “Watch me.”