Quarter Mile Hearts

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Quarter Mile Hearts Page 17

by Jenny Siegel


  Over the years, I couldn’t help but compare the few dates I had to him. No matter how hard I tried, I could never forget the boy with the addictive smile. At the time, I used to wonder what was really going on behind those eyes; I wondered if the image he portrayed was the real Max Morgan. There were times when I would catch him watching me, with his guard down and mask off. That’s the Max I fell for. That smile was dangerous to my heart and soul. Even though I would frown, behind each glare I was hiding how much those genuine smiles affected me because they were few and far between.

  And now, when he gives me one of those bewitching smiles across the lawn, like I’m the only one he can see, it hits me. Like a thunderbolt. I love him. I always have.

  A girl stands with him, around twenty, blond and pretty, his usual type, but he only has eyes for me as he tracks my progress across the lawn. When I reach him, his face lights up, but this time the panty-melting smile is directed entirely at me, and dammit, if my tummy doesn’t flip violently. He takes the soda out my hand and slips an arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. Realization dawns on her pretty face, especially when I wrap my arm around his waist and lean further into him. The smell of Armani Diamonds washes over me.

  “Am I the designated driver?” He smiles at me and indicates his soda.

  “Looks that way.” I tip the cold beer to my lips and take a long drink, eyeing him over the bottle. Lowering it, I watch with fascination as his eyes burn brighter the longer we stare at each other until, without warning, his lips descend on mine in a crushing kiss that steals my breath away. He swipes at my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.

  “Tastes better on you.” A wicked glint flashes in his eye, looking at me like we’re the only two people in the world instead of in a yard full of my family and friends. Max shifts to stand in front of me and cradles my head in his hand. My grip on him tightens, and I reach up to meet his lips. The hand at my head fists in my hair as his tongue runs along mine. Our kiss deepens as we shut everything and everyone out. Even when the girl murmurs, “I’ll leave you to it,” it doesn’t penetrate our little bubble.

  A groan sounds deep in the back of his throat before he pulls back, bringing his forehead to rest against mine.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he whispers against my lips, and I nod my agreement. Long fingers gently grip my chin and warm eyes check that I’m sure. When I nod again, he pulls back, a crooked smile spreads over his face, and his lips brush over my forehead. A tingle ripples through me at the tenderness of his gesture, and I see a totally different side to Max. One that I wasn’t expecting, and one that does strange things to my heart. Causing it to double beat every time he’s around, or touches me, or looks at me, or any number of little things he does. When I’m with him, I feel happy and relaxed and more at peace than I have in a very long time.

  It just confirms my earlier realization that I love him. Plain and simple. But that realization also scares the crap out of me. I always knew Max Morgan was dangerous to my heart, and that hasn’t changed. I don’t know what the hell is going to happen with us, but I have a decision to make and soon.

  • • •

  By the time Max and I take my dad back to the hospital, the barbecue has started to wind down. Beth and Aaron cuddle together on a lawn chair in a dark corner of the garden, and I don’t bother interrupting them to let them know we’re leaving. Dad says good-bye to everyone, and although he’s had a blast, he looks tired. It’s a lot for him when all he’s been used to is lying in bed and getting up to walk along the corridor or going for a pee.

  Max and he talk about cars the whole journey to the hospital, and for once, I don’t join in. I am too preoccupied, and my brain is working overtime. This time I’m not obsessing over what is going to happen with the garage, but what is going to happen between Max and me. He said he wants me to stay, so he must feel something for me. I’m not ready to tell him I love him; that might freak him out. Hell, it freaks me out. All along, I’ve been telling myself that I hated him. After our first kiss, I wouldn’t even admit to myself that I loved him, and I’ve been denying it to myself all these years.

  The three of us take the elevator up to my dad’s floor, but Max waits outside the room.

  “Happy birthday again, Hank. See you soon.” He nods at my dad, and for a minute there, I thought he was going to shake my dad’s hand.

  “Thanks, Max.” He gives him a weary smile and walks into the room, collapsing on the chair, leaving us to hover in the hall.

  “I’ll wait out here for you.” He gives me a swift kiss that isn’t so swift when I grab the material of his t-shirt and pull him back for another one. With a wink, he turns and walks down the hall.

  It’s pretty hard to hide the smile that is now a permanent fixture on my face thanks to Max, and if my dad hadn’t noticed it earlier, he does now. A knowing smile plays on his lips when I enter his room and start pulling out fresh pjs and pouring water for him.

  “He’s a good guy, you know; worth sticking around for.”

  “Hmm,” I murmur non-committal.

  “I saw you both earlier, plus you can’t wipe that smile off your face. You should think about staying here, for him.” He looks up, and for the first time, I feel a massive jolt of guilt at leaving him. I was so desperate to get out of this town that I didn’t give him much thought. Not that dad would have wanted me to stay just for him, but he should have been a bigger part of my decision. In the end, maybe I’m not so different from my mom. I’ve been so hell bent on not being like her that I did the very thing I despise her for. Leaving my dad.

  “I will,” I promise and kiss on the forehead. “’Night, Dad.”

  “’Night, sweetheart.” And I leave him to get ready for bed.

  Max waits for me outside the elevator, leaning against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him. When he sees me, he pushes off the wall and strides along the corridor to meet me. Without thinking, I launch myself at him, and when he catches me, I bury my head in his chest, inhaling deeply. Strong arms hold me as my heart thunders in my chest while I take deep calming breaths. I feel as if I’m on the verge of tears, but I don’t know why.

  Everything that has happened since I got that phone call about Dad feels as though it’s about to overwhelm me. And then there’s Max. It’s a good thing that I can finally admit that I love him because it’s also overwhelming. As if he knows exactly how I’m feeling, he holds me tighter and his lips press against my temple.

  “Don’t worry. It will all work out,” he whispers in my ear, and I nod. “I’m taking you home with me.” Gently, he sets me down but doesn’t let go while we wait for the elevator.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  There isn’t much conversation on the ride back to Max’s apartment… converted garage… whatever you want to call it. But the air is thick with sexual tension. Max’s hand rests on my thigh and seems to have made its way further under the skirt of my dress with every passing mile. Heat sweeps through me, and at this rate, I’m going to need to be doused with cold water. It doesn’t help that his thumb rubs back and forth over my hot skin, driving me insane.

  Max helps me out of the car, and taking my hand in his, leads me up to his apartment above the big double garage. At one end of the large sitting room is a sleek modern high gloss kitchen. There is a breakfast bar with two tall leather stools tucked underneath. A gray L-shaped sofa sits facing a huge wall-mounted flat-screen, and underneath, an entertainment unit is set up with an Xbox, two controllers, and a range of games—Forza Motorsport 5, The Crew, and Grand Theft Auto V.

  The evening sun streams in the huge window at the other end of the room. The window is actually tri-folding doors with a wrought iron balcony, framing the view of the fields behind.

  “Do you want a drink?” Max asks as he busies himself in the kitchen.

  “No, I’m good, thanks,” I call over my shoulder and continue to stare out the window. The apartment doesn’t overlook Sugar and Causey’s; in fact,
you can’t see it at all from this window.

  I sense Max behind me before his arms snakes around my waist and his chin rests on my shoulder.

  “Did you have fun today?” The rush of breath tickles at my ear, and a flare of desire works its way down my body.

  “Yeah.” I tilt my head to rest against his.

  “Your dad looked happier.”

  “He’s just glad to get out of the hospital for a bit.”

  “No, he’s happier because you’re back.”

  “Meh.” I give a small raise of my shoulders.

  “He’s not the only one,” he murmurs as his lips brush against my neck and teeth nip at the sensitive skin. It has the desired effect when my stomach tightens, and I feel the jolt between my legs.

  “You decided yet?” he asks, his mouth still teasing my skin with nips and kisses. Not wanting to get into this just now, I turn in his arms and tilt my head.

  “Still thinking about it.”

  “Need some help with your decision?” His eyes darken as he brings his lips closer, stopping just before they touch mine as he waits for my answer. “I can be very persuasive.” That sultry tone cranks up the pulse between my legs, and I return it with what I hope is a seductive smile.

  “I think you should give me your best argument.”

  His smile widens, obviously confident that his art of persuasion will work on me. Hell, I know his art of persuasion will work and so does my body. Every cell is crying out for him to kiss me. And then he does. Hot insistent lips crash down on mine; his tongue explores every inch of my mouth. Hunger, need, and want all pour into that kiss.

  Without warning, Max takes hold of my ass in a firm grip and lifts me off my feet, leaving me to cling to his shoulders before moving my hands to the back of his head to run my fingers through the short hair. With me still in his arms, Max strides through the apartment, and I’m too caught up in his kisses to catch a glimpse of any of it.

  Kicking open a door, he drops me onto the bed before straightening to look down at me. Passion burns brightly in his eyes, and at that moment, he looks every bit as dangerous as I’ve always thought he was. The butterflies in my stomach go berserk and flit around, out of control as I lie, unable to do anything other than stare, with my mouth parted. I’m breathing embarrassingly loud as he drags his t-shirt up his body, inch by inch, agonizingly slow. Revealing first the V of his hips that disappear into his jeans, and then every ripple of his stomach muscles, gorgeous, chiseled pecs, until finally, he pulls it over his head and drops it to the side.

  Fuck, he could give Magic Mike a run for his money. My mouth dries and I wish I had taken him up on his offer and asked for a soda. The sexy, crooked smile on his face is all things wicked and bad but makes my panties dampen and my stomach clench just looking at him.

  Still unable to move from my perfect vantage point, I lie and enjoy the show. The next thing to go is his belt, which he unbuckles and leaves hanging while he pulls apart the buttons on his Levi’s. Black boxer briefs that are Armani, this time. Hmm, I bet his ass looks amazing in those. The jeans are pushed down his tanned muscular thighs and his gaze never strays from mine as he tosses off his boots.

  Now in just the Armani boxer briefs, his eyes wander down my body. Even though I’m still fully clothed, I feel my skin heat under his gaze. The bed dips when Max kneels at the foot of it. Reaching out, he pulls off one of my sneakers, followed by the other, and moves on the bed. Stopping at the bottom of my dress, he tugs it up my body and I sit up to let him pull it over my head.

  My chest rises and falls sharply and my breath spikes when Max straddles me. Strong thighs press on either side of mine as he rocks back on his heels to study me. Leaning forward slightly, his fingers brush down from my collarbone to the top of my black lace bra. Longing flashes in his eyes as they roam over my chest and my nipples tighten further under his intense scrutiny.

  Max’s hand slides around to my back, and with a well-practiced ease that I don’t want to dwell on, he unfastens my bra one-handed. Pulling the straps down, he removes the bra and tosses it to the side. Cool air brushes over my already erect nipples. I eye Max’s sizeable erection that is clearly visible through the material of his boxers and bite my lip.

  That seems to be the trigger because Max leans forward, his mouth slants over mine, and our lips mold together, in a perfect fit. Tongues fight with each other as need rages through us. His hands delve into my hair as he kisses me, his chest brushing teasingly against mine, fueling my desire for him. Kisses trail down my neck as he works his way lower and lower until that sinful mouth closes over one nipple and draws his tongue over it. Desire consumes me and I need more of him. All of him. But when I reach down between our bodies to take him in my hand, he captures my wrist. Max has other ideas and moves lower still. When he lets go of my hand, the only thing to grab hold of is his shoulders.

  Fingers hook in the side of my panties, and he drags them down my legs until I am naked and exposed. Parting my legs, he moves between them, his shoulders parting them more.

  “Max.” My thready moan is nothing but a whisper and sounds like a plea more than anything.

  “I told you I want to taste every inch of you.” But it is like he’s talking to himself and hasn’t heard me speak. I squeeze my eyes shut, and my hands fist at my side as I steel myself for that first swipe of his tongue, knowing that I am going to fly off this bed with rapture. If it wasn’t for his forearm resting against my stomach, all black swirls, contrasting with my unblemished skin, I would.

  The tip of his tongue brushes over my hypersensitive skin, and I’m taken to another place entirely. My back bows off the bed, and I can barely breathe or focus on anything apart from the glorious sensations that are raging through my body as his tongue works me into a frenzy.

  Max barely lets me recover from my intense orgasm before he moves up my body to the sound of the ripping of a foil packet. Looking up, I watch him roll the condom onto his thick erection before he rests one hand at the side of me. With his hand holding the bottom of his dick, he eases into me, inch by inch, before he stills. His forehead creases with effort as he hangs on by a thread. Then he starts to move, and it’s as though my first orgasm never happened. Need for him takes over everything and I watch, fascinated at the way he moves in and out of me, faster and faster. The way his abs tense with each thrust and the look of concentration on his face. But when he meets my eyes, his soften and he leans down to claim my lips, his tongue dipping into my mouth in a deep toe-curling kiss. I grab hold of his tight ass as he pushes me headlong toward my second orgasm. With a roll of his hips, I come undone, his name tumbling from my lips as a wave of pleasure crashes over me. Holding me tight to him, he thrusts once more and bows his head, pressing his lips against my hair to muffle a roar as he comes seconds later.

  Cocooned together, a tangle of arms and legs, I manage to slip out from under Max’s limbs and pad through to the bathroom. We dozed off and I have no idea what time it is, but it’s pitch black outside. When I walk back into the room, Max is awake with a small light on, the sheet draped strategically over his dick but still exposing his muscular thighs. I had never considered men’s thighs particularly sexy, but my god, that was before I had gotten an eyeful of Max’s.

  The smile that lights up his face as I cross the room and crawl back into his arms does strange things to my heart. It speeds up, like the wings of a hummingbird, and flutters in my chest. As he strokes his hands through my hair, I melt into his arms and rest my head on his chest—where his heart beats faster than normal.

  “Has there been anyone else?” he asks, a slight quiver in his voice.

  “Only one.”

  “One, seriously?” The disbelief is evident in his tone.

  “Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?” I twist to look up at him.

  “I just thought there would be more.”

  “We’re not all like you.”

  He frowns. “I didn't mean it like that. Tell me about him.”<
br />
  I take a deep breath and push it out slowly, resting against his chest again. “It was a year ago. There was this a guy at work, Josh. Anyway, he'd been asking me for ages to go out on a date, so eventually I did. We dated a few times and then...”

  “You slept with him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  “After a couple of dates, he changed, became really possessive, always calling and wanting to know where I was. Not that I ever went anywhere. It was never anything serious, and I didn't want it to be.”

  “Why?”

  Unexpected tears prick my eyes. “He wasn't you,” I whisper. It’s why I’ve never met anyone else or been interested because no one could ever compare. In every sense, he ruined me.

  Strong arms tighten around me as he cradles me in his arms, letting me sob, like he did that morning in the garage. Warm breath brushes over the top of my head, and a hand strokes down my back. Max is the only person who has seen me like this, vulnerable and emotional. I was always the strong one growing up, never showing how I was feeling or if anything upset me. The only time I showed it was when I was mad.

  “There have been exactly two women since you left,” he says in a quiet voice.

  I look up at him, my mouth popping open. “Two?”

  Sheepishly, he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, two.”

  “Why only two?” Not that I’m complaining. In fact, inside I’m jumping for joy.

  “The first one was just after you left. I thought if I slept with someone else it would get you out of my mind. But it didn’t, it just made me miss you even more.” His lips brush over my temple.

  “And the other?”

  He inhales shakily. “The other was last year, after your visit.”

 

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