Night and Day

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  “Water under the bridge.”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  He looked over at his mother, the wrecked woman next to him, knowing that it was all because she loved his father desperately. She used to laugh all the time. It was a vague memory since he’d been so young when she’d fallen down and gotten her first prescription. She hadn’t smiled in so long that she didn’t even have smile lines. He wondered what his mom would look like, how this car ride would have felt if she hadn’t gotten hooked on drugs, had she taken him and his siblings away from their father when they were young.

  This is what he’d do if he let himself love Letty. He would destroy her the way his father had destroyed his mother, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He wouldn’t be able to give her the words she needed—love her the way she needed.

  He was so greedy for Letty that he knew he wouldn’t be able to let her go when whatever they had between them went sour. He just knew that about himself. And, right now, the only person there to blame was his mother.

  “Yeah, it’s all I’m going to say.” He sighed, deciding to be honest. “You and Dad didn’t just ruin your own lives. You ruined all of ours.”

  She dropped her head in her hands, and her shoulders shook with sobs. A hot fist of guilt punched Max in the stomach.

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She let out a ragged laugh when she looked up at him. “It’s about time this family was honest with each other. You know, I see you. I’ve known how you held your brother and your sister together for years. I’m so proud of you.”

  It was the first time his mother had ever said that, and he didn’t know if he could stand to hear it. “Even though I’m not some sort of captain of industry like him?”

  She shocked him by putting her hand over his heart. They didn’t have a touchy-feely family; he wasn’t sure the last time his mother had hugged him. Never had he noticed it until he found himself wanting to touch Letty all the time. Not just in bed. But this felt awkward.

  “You’re different from him in a lot of ways.”

  Max shook his head. “Not in the ways that count.” When she didn’t pull away, he repeated himself. “Not in the ways that count.”

  “You’re nothing like him. Kind not cruel, you are.” She finally pulled away. “Your heart is so much bigger than his. I just hope you see it before it’s too late.”

  Chapter 15

  Max was on her as soon as she came in his door. His kisses were hungry and bone melting. For a guy who’d spent the afternoon sitting in traffic as his mother’s chauffeur, he’d sure found it in him to be horny.

  He had her body pushed against the door to his loft, and everything in her was tuned into him. He seemed dead set on kissing her until they died on the floor from a lack of air.

  “So glad you’re here.” Letty’s insides warmed, as she tugged at his T-shirt. Although she wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, she wasn’t about to say no to all the Max touches, kisses, and smells that she could get. Recently showered, she could get drunk on the way he smelled—like his soap was laced with his own mix of pheromones.

  Once she got his T-shirt off, his hands made their way under her skirt and he was squeezing the skin of her thighs in this proprietary way he had.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “You have, precious girl.” For a guy who thought he wasn’t good at relationships, he sure as hell knew what to say to her right then.

  “Weren’t we going to dinner?” She undid his belt, showing him that she was teasing him.

  “I need to have you for an appetizer.” He ran his tongue along the tendon between her shoulder and neck, biting down gently. The sharp sensation made her moan, and it made her fingers falter on his belt buckle.

  Meanwhile, he palmed the core of her over her panties. “Love how wet you get for me.”

  She got his pants down over his ass, almost disappointed to find him wearing boxer briefs. Looking down between their bodies, she found him hard and straining the black fabric. The visual evidence that he wanted her that much had her body buzzing to have more. She wanted to be skin-to-skin with him. Get lost in him and feel him lose himself in her.

  Clumsy because his pants were almost around his knees, he danced them over to the couch. She couldn’t help but laugh when they almost fell; Max grunted and nearly tossed her on the furniture. He pulled up her T-shirt and blew air between his teeth. “Raise your arms.” She obeyed, couldn’t help it, seeing as how she was fully in his thrall. “So sexy.”

  His gaze was intense as it rolled over her body. Feeling provocative, she spread her thighs open just a little. He rubbed a hand over his cock as though it ached, and she parted her lips. Miracle of miracles, she believed him when he said she was sexy, wanted to believe him for the first time in maybe ever. She trusted his words and actions when it came to how much he wanted her.

  Although he might not trust himself not to hurt her, she trusted him with everything. For the first time, she trusted herself to reach out and take what she wanted from a man. Instead of hesitating for a second longer, she pulled down the band of his underwear and licked the head of his cock before taking him deep in her mouth. Max groaned and put a hand in her hair. She was glad that he didn’t seem to second-guess himself there—that his reaction to her was honest and pure. He was horny for her, and he wasn’t afraid to let it show.

  “That’s it, precious girl.” She looked up, and found his biceps corded and abs shaking. His intense green gaze burning into her, saying filthy things without words. Her pussy had probably never been wetter or emptier. She wanted to fuck him so much it was like a sickness. Her skin itched wherever he wasn’t touching her. The sting of her scalp when she took him in her throat was like nectar to her nervous system. “Baby, you’ve got to stop before I come down your pretty throat.”

  That time she didn’t do what she was told, and she tried to convey that she was in control by taking him deep again, sucking harder. She loved the salty taste of his skin and scratched her nails over his belly to tell him so. He captured her hand and placed it on his balls. So, he didn’t want her to stop?

  Smiling around him, she let herself to get lost in the taste of him, the feel of the hair tickling her nose when she took him deep. “Fuck, Letty. Letty, fuck.”

  She hummed her approval, loving the feel of him almost ready to lose it from just her mouth and her hand fondling him. She’d never felt powerful while having sex before. Max gave her that—he wanted her, and he didn’t hide it from her or pretend the he didn’t like wanting her.

  “Gonna come, Letty. Gonna—fuck.” She sucked him down and licked her lips before he fell on her, crushing her mouth to his, grabbing every inch of skin he could reach, handling her almost so roughly that he would leave marks.

  He didn’t hesitate to take her mouth even though the taste of his come still lingered on her tongue. All his hard muscle spread over her made her feel even emptier. She needed him inside her. Now.

  “Max, please.” Her voice was a breathy sigh, and she didn’t even know if she could articulate what she needed from him right now. Having him come down her throat, using her for his pleasure had been so hot. But, as much as she liked the feeling of him wanting her body so much that he couldn’t control how he touched her, she needed the connection of his gaze on hers while he took her.

  As she rubbed herself on his thigh—shamelessly—she needed him to fuck her now.

  “You need me to fuck you?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed himself up on his haunches, then to his feet. He finally dropped his pants and boxers completely. His body was ridiculous, all muscled and ripped and hairy—and hers. For now, at least. His cock was back to life before he straddled her waist, so close, but not close enough.

  “You know what I need?”

  She had an idea, but she wanted
him to tell her. So, she pulled on his beard and said, “Tell me.”

  He shook his head slightly and palmed her throat with one hand. She swallowed and felt her throat flex against him. “I want to fuck you until I can think again.”

  “I make it hard to think?” She didn’t know if she felt good or bad about the fact that he couldn’t think around her.

  He trailed his hand down her chest, until it was over her heart. “Yes. Ever since you walked into my studio, I’ve felt like I couldn’t breathe every time I looked at you. You’ve turned my head into a cloudy mess, where all I can think about is your hair or your eyes or your soft skin. I close my eyes, and you’re smiling at me.” He dropped a kiss on one nipple, and she shivered.

  “I can’t wait anymore, Max.”

  “I can’t either.” He reached for his pants and pulled a condom out of the pocket. Once he had it on, he was between her legs and at her entrance in one breath. His face close to hers; his breath on her cheek. “I thought this would stop.”

  “What would?” He pressed into her, and she gasped from being so full of him.

  “Wanting you so much.” He pulled out almost completely, and pressed back in. “I thought it was just because we decided not to that my cock filled every time you swayed that fine ass over to me.”

  Letty never wanted this to go away, but Max sounded anguished about wanting her so much. Part of her wanted to dig deeper, but then Max angled her hips, so he hit her clit every time he fucked her deep, and she was full. Her mind was just static, and every single cell filled joy. It couldn’t last forever, but she wanted it to. Needed what she had right here with Max to last forever.

  He took her mouth with a kiss and went at her harder, until he stole her breath with every deep thrust. She wrapped her legs around him and pressed her heels into his ass, holding him deep. “Want you so fucking much.”

  Her talking to him made him go faster, his jaw clenched under his beard. All she could do was grab his biceps and hold on. His lack of restraint with her, his inability to be gentle, pushed her over the edge to a monumental orgasm. She arched her body into his as it kept going and going and she finally felt him spill his heat into the condom.

  After it ended, she could feel his reluctance to pull out of her—as though it was actually painful for him. But he said nothing as he sat on the end of the couch, head in his hands.

  Letty didn’t know what to say either, partially because of the mind-bending orgasm he’d just inflicted on her, and partially because she was confused by his withdrawal directly afterwards. Him pulling away was like a cold wind blowing over her. So palpable that she grabbed a blanket to cover herself with.

  “What’s wrong?”

  At least he looked at her then, but then he said a word that they both knew was a lie. “Nothing.”

  She wanted to demand that he talk to her, but she didn’t know if she could do that with him. “Okay.”

  She looked around for her clothes. While she and Max had been fucking, all there’d been was him. All she could see was him. It was a spare, messy, large loft apartment. All industrial lines, but lived in. A bike by the door, and a pile of clothes in the corner. But with her clothes strewn all over the floor, it looked as though she’d made her mark.

  Letty’s first instinct was to get off the couch and clean up, but she knew that wasn’t what she should do. If he didn’t want to tell her how he felt and what was going on with him right now, she could just leave. She didn’t need to cater to him or try to get him to open up. He was just some guy she was having sex with. Phenomenal sex. She didn’t need to catch feelings for him. Too bad that ship had already sailed.

  “Do you want me to go?” His mouth flattened into a grim line, and gooseflesh rose all over her skin. She hadn’t believed him when he’d told her that he was just like his father—the he would eventually flip a switch and turn into someone who was bad for her.

  “No—yes—I don’t know.” He looked confused, and part of her wanted to reach out to him, comfort him. But he’d told her that he would turn against her, and he was doing that right now. She wanted to trust him, but she finally trusted herself enough to take him at his word.

  She dragged the blanket over her body and found her clothes. It felt as though finding everything and picking it up took forever. His gaze was on her the entire time. Her skin burned, and she was pretty sure her hands shook.

  “Do you still want me to come to the gala with you?” It felt as though she had just asked, Do you still want me? And she was desperately afraid that the answer would be no.

  His silence dragged time out like sun-softened taffy, and she hated how much she needed his answer to be yes.

  “I do, I just need some time.”

  “The gala’s tomorrow.”

  “Just tonight.” He stood up and approached her. Wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. She hated how much relief his touch gave her. “It’s nothing you did, precious girl. I just never expected to feel the way I do about you.”

  “I never expected to feel the way I do about you either.” She burrowed her nose into his chest, smelling their scents combined. “But we can take it slow.”

  “That’s the problem.” He pulled back and looked at her face. “The last thing I want to do is take things slow with you. I want you in my life, and I’m just not sure it would be good for you.”

  He missed her rolling her eyes because his phone rang on the table just behind her. He didn’t let her go when he answered it, and she saw his sister’s name on the screen.

  “Hello,” followed by, “yeah, she’s fine.” Then, “I don’t know what you want me to do.” Letty tried to pull away, but he kept her close, his chill now reserved for his sibling. “I’ll try. I promise.” That promise seemed meant for her, and it chased away the anxiety she’d been feeling moments ago.

  “She’s right here.” With that, the anxiety was back. “I’ll ask her, but maybe she already has a dress.” Then, he hung up the phone.

  “My sister wants to take you shopping.”

  “She does?” That was not how she had expected this to go a few moments ago. She’d expected to skulk out and maybe get a few texts from him before he ghosted her.

  Now, she was invited to go shopping with his sister? That was some serious girlfriend shit right there. It was strange that his whole family thought that he had real feelings for her and that she would be around for a good long while. Letty was starting to want that—maybe too much—but she was still wary. “Do you want me to go with her?”

  “If you want to go, you should go.” He sighed when she didn’t respond right away. “Listen, I just had a little freak-out back there. Please believe me; I want you in my life. I want you to meet my sister and get along with her. Hell, maybe you can get her to take it easy on me.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that.” Letty went on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. He was poised to take it deeper, but she went back on flat feet before he could. “My guess is that we’ll team up and use our combined powers against you.”

  “You do have power over me.” He squeezed her ass and kissed the corner of her mouth—filthy and sweet all at once. She knew because she could feel it again. Wanted him so much even though she wasn’t sure they could make it work in the long run. “If I asked if I could show you how much power you have over me in the shower, would you say yes?”

  He had power over her, too. She was powerless to say no to him, couldn’t spend any time not touching him, and she wanted to trust him with her heart. They weren’t there yet, but she knew she could trust him with her body, and that would have to be enough for now.

  Chapter 16

  Max’s father had never visited his studio before, even though he’d written the check that had paid off the mortgage on the dilapidated warehouse adjacent to the Wynwood neighborhood. He wasn’t sure why his father had even ponied up the cas
h, considering that he’d always thought that anything other than business but finance—and maybe law and medicine—were virtually useless. Although he’d left Cuba as a young man to escape communism and valued personal wealth, the other spoils of prosperity—primarily aesthetic ones—had always escaped his regard.

  Often Max had wondered whether Joaquin had become a chef, him an artist, Laura a dancer, as a rebellion against their father. Where other children might have tried to appease him, they’d seen their mother do that to no avail for decades. Each of them had seen and heeded the warning in their mother’s chemically deadened gaze and conducted their lives accordingly. And perhaps it was their defiance that had inspired their mother to finally get clean and leave their father.

  When Max’s father did walk in to his studio, without calling first, he couldn’t help his stomach lurching from anxiety. The man was calculated, and there was no way that he’d just been in the neighborhood. From what Max had gleaned from a few terse phone calls, he hadn’t left his office very much since the divorce.

  That wasn’t entirely new, but generally his father’s maniacal workaholic streak—a habit that he and his father shared—had an end point. This one had lasted for the better part of a year.

  Max’s anxiety only grew when his father simply looked around without saying anything for almost a minute. If he were showing this space off to an ordinary father, one he could expect to appreciate his offspring’s creative work, he would have felt a surge of pride. Although the space was still cluttered, he had made so much of what had been a rather bleak building. He’d cleared debris, put up shelving, and renovated what had once been a produce warehouse into a space where he worked and lived. He’d even navigated the Byzantine zoning process, so everything was legal.

  Finally, his father met his gaze. “It’s not the same hovel I purchased five years ago.”