by Kendall Ryan
Upstairs, the pounding of the shower halted, and I focused back on the present. I couldn’t let Jenn take tonight away from me—she’d already taken too much, like the entire first year of my daughter’s life. Tonight had been a dream I didn’t even know I had. Life was too short, and there were too few moments like this to let fear of the unknown steal it away.
For now, my sole focus was Addison.
And I was going to make damn sure she knew it.
Chapter Fifteen
Addison
I stepped into the shower and breathed in the hot steam, hoping it might give me some clarity. I couldn’t lie—it was nice to have Max handle all the little details of dinner and the house so that I could relax, but . . .
How the hell was I supposed to relax?
I turned, allowing the rush of hot water to pound down my back as I closed my eyes. I’d had a full forty-eight hours to argue with myself about whether to go along with Max’s proposal, and I was still just as confused as I’d been when he’d propositioned me. I’d even nearly called Lara a few times for moral support, but every time I was on the brink of thumbing the Dial button, I put my phone down again and flopped back on my bed.
I knew what she’d say, of course. She’d parrot back exactly what I’d told her the last time we’d talked. That it was bad business to sleep with the boss, and a one-way ticket to homelessness. But she hadn’t met Max. She had no way of knowing what a difficult choice it was, how impossible it was to look into his dark eyes and not give him everything he wanted.
Opening my eyes, I reached for my loofah and scrubbed until my skin was pink and tingling.
I hadn’t called Lara because I didn’t want to hear her, just like I didn’t want to hear the part of my brain that told me not to imagine what it would feel like to be lying on a bed, naked and exposed to him, and to have his hot, muscular body braced over me. To feel his thick shaft rubbing against my entrance, to feel him move inside me with all the command and force I knew he would.
My nostrils flared and I tilted my head back, allowing the spray of water to coat my hair and rinse away the stubborn bits of Play-Doh still stuck in it.
The real problem here was Dylan. Dylan came first. Even Max had agreed to that.
But there was no way of knowing how things would turn out, and in turn, affect her. And if Max changed his mind about wanting things to be casual . . .
Then Dylan could have a mother again. I would be her mother.
Warmth rushed through me at the thought, but I beat it away. I was getting ahead of myself. All I had to do was get out of the shower, get dressed, and make a choice about tonight.
I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew what was smart. But at this point, it looked like Max and I would find out at the same time, because I still had no fucking clue which I would choose.
I turned the tap until the water stopped, then dried myself off and slipped into the soft cotton dress I’d brought into the bathroom with me.
It was unusual for me to dress in anything other than pajamas after a shower, but after all Max had done tonight, I wanted to look nice for him.
Not because I was going to say yes, but because this sort of felt like a date. Not that it was a date either, it was more like . . .
I sighed. I was confusing even myself now. God only knew how it would sound when I tried to explain how I was feeling to Max.
In my bedroom, I sat in front of my vanity and whipped my semi-wet hair into a bun on top of my head. Normally, that would do it, but then . . .
He’d cleaned and cooked for me. He’d been so sweet.
I glanced at the tiny pink makeup bag, then opened it and pulled out a few essentials. A dab of concealer, a coat of mascara, and lip balm, and I was ready.
Was this why he’d done everything around the house? Because he wanted me to feel beholden to him? Like that might convince me to sleep with him?
I shook the thought away.
That was something Greg might have done—if, in fact, he’d had any interest in sleeping with me. He used to manipulate me all the time to get what he wanted, but that didn’t feel like the kind of move Max would pull. He was just trying to make me feel special, and I wanted to make him feel special in return.
That was all.
I took a deep breath and stood at the top of the steps, willing myself to move. Downstairs, I could already hear the gentle chords of a familiar song, though I couldn’t name it off the top of my head. Steeling myself, I walked down to find Max sitting in the living room, a fresh bouquet of roses and daisies on the coffee table in front of him.
“Wow, those flowers are beautiful,” I said.
“They’re yours. Something to say thank you for everything you’ve done for Dylan and me.”
I smiled. “If you’re going to get me weekly gifts for doing my job, then—”
“It wasn’t your job to redecorate her room like that. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate it.”
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth, sucking hard. “It was no problem at all.”
“Then it won’t be any problem accepting the flowers either.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you want more coffee or . . .”
“There’s a bottle of wine uncorked and ready for you in the kitchen, if you want it.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Thanks. Do you want—”
“I’ve already got some. Hair of the dog, and all. I just didn’t want to ply you with alcohol unless you wanted it.”
Wanted it? I was pretty sure that was the only way I was getting through this night. I rushed into the kitchen and poured myself a healthy glass, focusing again on the music. The voice was crooning and sweet.
When my glass was ready, I walked back into the living room. “I thought you were strictly a Bob Dylan guy. You like Elvis Costello too?”
“I like all good music.”
His gaze met mine, and I had half an urge to hightail it back up the steps. He was looking at me like he was a lion and I was a gazelle. Or, more particularly, like he was a starving man and I was a juicy slice of cherry pie.
I swallowed and then settled in beside him on the couch.
“You didn’t send me any messages today. I was convinced you and Dylan had fled to Peru,” he said.
“We talked about it, but Dylan wasn’t interested. She had some spit bubbles to blow and a ladybug to try and eat. Maybe tomorrow.” I laughed.
He chuckled and took a sip of his wine. “So, what else did you guys do?”
“Oh, you know, we read some Clifford and then we went to the pet store to see the real Cliffords.”
“No kidding. What did Dylan think?”
I grinned, remembering her reaching her chubby fingers out to one of the brown-spotted puppies. “She kept pointing to the puppies and calling them babies.”
Max grinned. “Tell me you’re not hiding a dog somewhere in this house?”
I shook my head. “Not yet, but it was a close call. I think Dylan named every dog in the store.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. Most of them are named ball, but a couple are confusingly named bird.”
He laughed again. “Sounds about right. I was ‘ball’ for the first two days we were together.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Yeah, I could see that. Your head is very round.”
He fake scowled at me and I grinned.
Silence fell between us then, and I combed through my memories of the day, trying to think of something cute Dylan had said or done so that we wouldn’t get down to the crux of the matter—not just yet, at least. Nothing was coming, though, and Max was starting to look at me with that intense, hungry gleam in his eyes again. I knew what he was thinking, what he wanted.
I took a gulp of wine for courage.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I repeated, my pulse beating a quick rhythm.
“Have you thought about my proposition?” he asked.
Have I thought of anything else?
I shou
ld say no. Maybe if I say no, he’ll give me another day, or maybe a week. Enough time so that I’m not a complete chicken the next time he asks me.
“I have.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think . . .” My mind tripped through the words, picking the first few that jumped out. “I think I don’t know. I think I want to, but I . . . I also don’t want to.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “And what makes you not want to do it?”
“I’m nervous about Dylan. If something should happen between us . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Do you think I would let the personal matters between you and me interfere with my daughter getting the best care possible?”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “But feelings can get messy, and people behave all sorts of ways they don’t intend to. What if it gets weird and you decide to let me go? I’m sure there’s someone else just as good who can—”
“Nobody is as good with my daughter as you are. You two are inseparable. I know that, and I wouldn’t let you go for anything that happened between us, ever. Let’s get that straight.”
“Oh,” I said. The tips of my ears heated, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until the heat spread to my cheeks again, a sure tell that he’d flattered me.
His lips tilted to the side. “So that’s the reason you don’t want to. What makes you want to do it?”
I blinked at him, incredulous that he’d even have to ask. “The way you look at me. Nobody has ever looked at me like that.” I shook my head, trying to find a way to express myself that was true, but not too corny. “I’m curious, I guess. To be with a man who knows what he wants and who can make me feel . . .” Like my whole body is on fire? “Like a real woman,” I finished, my voice husky with embarrassment. “Who makes me feel desirable.”
Heat sparked in his eyes, and he nodded. “That’s only because you are desirable.”
Slowly, he took my wine from me, brushing his pointer finger gently against mine. Even at that slightest touch, my arms broke out in goose bumps, and I was practically panting as he reached across me, setting my drink on the table and allowing his masculine smell to take over my senses.
Then he turned to me, taking my hand in his and looking so deep into my eyes, I was sure he could see through me.
“Let me show you.”
Now was the moment. It was my chance. Sink or swim.
Holding my breath, I nodded, and he leaned closer until his lips were only a whisper away. Then they were on mine and I was sinking. Fast.
His mouth was warm and inviting, and he wrapped his hand around the back of my head, weaving his fingers through my damp hair. It was gentle at first, almost like he was giving me one last chance to back away, but the second I felt his skin against mine, I knew there was no chance that I’d let him go. Not now that heaven was just a breath away.
His tongue swept out, and I opened my mouth to accept his invitation. Just as gently, he brushed his tongue along the bottom of my lip, teasing and coaxing me until I met him with my own. He twined his tongue with mine, pushing the kiss deeper until I let out a little moan of longing.
Already, the kiss wasn’t enough. My heart was racing, my blood was pounding in my ears, and I wanted more. I gripped the back of his neck, willing him to understand what I needed.
As if in answer to my unspoken plea, he trailed a hand under my dress, moving past my thin lacy panties and sliding beneath my bra. With one hand, he massaged my breast, teasing and enticing, moving closer and closer to the center with each touch. By the time he finally took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, I wondered if I might come right then and there.
His touch was electric, his kiss intoxicating, and even five minutes in, I had already forgotten why I’d had the urge to fight this perfect, pure ecstasy.
“Thank you,” I mumbled against his mouth as he pinched my nipple harder.
He smiled against my lips. “Thank you?” He raised his dark brows as he looked at me, and my cheeks burned. “You’re fucking adorable, you know that?”
Then he kissed each of my cheeks, soothing the scorching heat there, before returning to my lips and dropping his hand lower until he was at the hem of my lacy panties.
I moved to open my legs for him, to let him feel just how wet and needy he made me, but he only hooked a thumb under the elastic waistband, waiting there, teasing me until I was panting even harder than I had been before.
“Max,” I murmured, though I didn’t know what might come out of my mouth next.
“Come to bed with me.”
I searched his gaze, knowing that this was my last chance to back out. But even knowing that, I couldn’t think of a single reason to say no to him.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He took my hand in his and led me upstairs, past my room and into his. It was more spacious than mine, though the walls and dressers were bare. On the bed was a simple blue comforter, and I debated for a moment what I should do, where I should go.
With Greg, I used to slip beneath the covers and undress where he couldn’t see me, but based on the way Max looked at me—like he was drinking me in—I knew that wouldn’t be an option this time.
Not with him.
I swallowed hard, readying myself to pull my dress away, but then my breath caught and I was transfixed, watching as he peeled off his thin black T-shirt. I could see every detail of the thick black Army tattoos on each of his biceps, see the way his muscles bulged as he moved for his zipper, the way his waistline tapered into a perfect vee below his six-pack.
I felt like a complete idiot, but my mouth was watering and my knees were weak like something out of a movie. I let out a little whimper, and then he pulled down his pants and boxers in one tug to reveal the biggest dick I had ever seen.
A rush of need surged between my legs, and I considered pushing him back against the bed right then and there. It had been too long since I’d had a man, way too long, and I’d never had a man like this one. Looking at him, I wasn’t sure how the hell he was even going to fit.
His gaze followed mine and when he noticed what exactly I was staring at, his mouth tilted into a slight smile.
“Don’t you worry, baby. This is nothing you can’t handle, and I’ll make sure you’re more than ready for me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Max
I stared at her, wondering if she could see my heart beating out of my chest. But if she could, she showed no sign of it, too distracted by everything else I had to offer.
Never tearing her gaze from me, Addison licked her lips and nodded as if she’d made an agreement with herself. Then slowly, she sank to her knees in front of me and took me in her hand.
“Ah, fuck no,” I groaned, though I hated myself for stopping her.
Her eyes went wide and wild. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all. God, it’s so fucking right. But I want to see you.” I pulled her hand away from me and urged her up until we were face-to-face. “All of you.”
Slowly, gently, I lifted her dress over her head and let it fall to the floor beside me. Her underwear was white, lacy, and simple, the perfect accent for the girl next door. It made my cock throb just looking at her.
I lowered my mouth to her throat, trailing kisses from the hollow of her collarbone to the shell of her ear as I twisted the clasp of her bra and allowed it to fall away. I wanted to pull back, to look at her, but I had to take my time.
Instead, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and whispered in her ear, “Now the choice is yours. If you want to go through with this, you can take off your panties.” I slid my hand over the lacy fabric, feeling the wetness that dampened the front. “If not, you can still turn back.”
She hesitated, her stiff nipples brushing against my chest, and then she lowered herself again, this time sliding her panties off as she moved and stepped out of them at last.
Now I could see her, all of her—from her pretty pin
k nipples to the glistening pink flesh between her legs.
“Now, get on the bed,” I said.
“But I . . .” She glanced at my cock, swiping her tongue over her lips again.
I squeezed my eyes shut and said a prayer for strength. If anyone ever heard about this, I’d have to turn in my man card, but fuck, I really did want it to be perfect. Everything either of us had fantasized about. I was already a man on the edge, and having her suck me off and blowing into her mouth early was not what I wanted.
“There’ll be time enough for that. I want to look at you.”
Taking both her shoulders in hand, I guided her until her knees buckled against the mattress. She scooted back, her knees still together, and I took a deep breath, ignoring the surging need in my cock for one second and allowing sanity to prevail.
This really was the point of no return. It was likely a terrible idea, I knew—between my baggage and my commitment issues, this was a recipe for disaster. It was all the more clear to me now, looking at her slender form as she lay in my bed.
But that was the point, wasn’t it? She was already in my bed now, willing and waiting for me, and even though I hadn’t had her yet, this still felt better than any woman I’d ever been with—it felt right. I couldn’t let her walk away, not now.
Maybe not ever.
I shoved aside that terrifying thought as I glanced down at her closed legs, then met her gaze. She was staring at me still, waiting for me to come closer. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and for the first time, I realized that the blush on her face trailed all the way down her neck to her breasts. She was as pretty as a fucking picture.
I held one of her knees and she slid her legs apart, showing me the pretty pink space between her thighs.
“Fuck me,” I groaned. It was the most beautiful pussy I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t wait to bury my face between her legs and make her beg for me. I was nearly on the point of doing just that when she interrupted me again.
“You should know it’s been a while for me.” The redness on her cheeks and breasts deepened. “So . . . be gentle, okay?”
I crawled between her legs and cupped my hand behind her head, pulling her lips to mine. She met me timidly, and I brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.