Maxie (Triple X)

by Kimberly Dean

  “I was looking for them.”

  The quiver in Maxie’s voice pushed Zac off the bed. All day long, she’d been pushed to the limit, yet she hadn’t cried. Until now. The threat of tears cut him to the quick.

  She didn’t seem to notice him when he sat beside her, close enough that their hips bumped and their arms touched from shoulder to elbow. He took the remote out of her hands. Looking at the video, he tried to understand.

  Only she wasn’t saying anything more. She stared at the screen with her breath coming short in her throat.

  He pushed the rewind button and watched the whole thing again. The adorable little girl seemed so excited at first. She’d rushed that puddle like she intended to make the biggest splash ever, but she stopped at the edge, her entire body leaning forward even as something held her back. The need in her eyes was heartrending as she searched the crowd.

  Why had she stopped? Her parents were holding the camera and encouraging her to go on, but the little girl seemed uncertain and timid.

  “Who were you looking for?” he asked.

  Her eyes were wet. “Lexie and Roxie. My sisters.”

  This time when her voice broke, she broke with it. Her shoulders shook, and her head bowed. “I kept asking my parents for sisters, but I didn’t want new ones. I wanted the ones I already had.”

  He understood then what her toddler’s mind had forgotten. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close. She resisted at first, but then pressed her cheek against his chest. The dampness of her tears against his skin was like a knife to his gut.

  He shut down the video and the TV. She wasn’t a loud crier, but that didn’t make it any easier. The tension in her body showed the misery she was in. She might have forgotten what had happened, but the pain she was feeling now was as sharp as it had to have been then.

  For that, he wanted to pound somebody’s head in. Who did something so cruel? Separated sisters who were so intricately intertwined? Rage bubbled up inside him, wanting to lash out at whoever was responsible, but he knew that wouldn’t help her. Not right now.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, you’ve found them now, haven’t you?”

  She took a shuddering breath, but nodded. Her cheek felt like silk as it rubbed against his chest, right over his heart.

  He wondered if she could hear it pounding.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he got his feet underneath him and stood. He carried her to the bed and pushed her damp hair back from her face.

  “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be happy or sad,” she said, her voice raw.

  “Be whatever you want to be.”

  “I feel guilty for wanting them when I had such a wonderful family…second family.”

  He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and dried her cheeks. She blew her nose before clenching her hand into a fist.

  “And I hate that I have to think of my parents that way now—as my second parents.” She tossed the tissue across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed in the wastebasket, but she didn’t notice the perfect shot. “I’ve made such a mess of everything,” she whispered. “And I’ve pulled you into it.”

  “You didn’t take me anywhere I didn’t want to go.”

  “I’ve lied to everyone. I’ve made you lie, not even thinking how it might affect you.” Her chin started quivering again as she turned those big brown eyes on him. “I’m sorry, Zac.”

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  She pressed the balls of her hands to her eyes. “How did everything get so screwed up?”

  “It’s not screwed up. Things are finally starting to fall into place.” But she couldn’t see it. She was too tired and overwhelmed. “You need to sleep.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Sure you can. You close your eyes and let go. Things will look better in the morning.”

  Bracing his hands on either side of her, he vaulted over her. She reacted reflexively, splaying her hands against his chest. He hovered above her for a moment. The way she was touching him, the idea of lowering himself atop her was tempting. But that hadn’t been his intent. Not with the dampness still in her eyes. He continued his roll and stretched out in the open space beside her instead.

  “I sleep on the right. Remember?”

  A soft sound left the back of her throat. A gasp or maybe even a short laugh.

  He hoped it was a laugh. All this stress wasn’t good for her, and he didn’t like seeing her this way. He’d do almost anything to put that shy smile back on her face.

  Tease her or shock her. Or kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

  He doused the light, and the room sank into darkness. It didn’t lessen his awareness of her. If anything, his senses became more acute. The bed might be wide, but he could feel her heat and hear her breathing. He could smell her clean scent, and more than anything he wanted to taste her again. Pull her so close their skin clung.

  He settled for lying near her under the sheets. She might have blown his mind at the pool, but this was a hell of a lot closer than they’d ever made it before. He’d give her the space she needed. For now. “Relax, Beauty. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  Only she didn’t relax.

  Half an hour later, Zac could still feel Maxie’s tension. She was stiffer than a board, and the gears in her head were clacking along on overdrive. As quiet as the room was, that was all he could hear, imagined or not. He wished he knew what she was thinking about. Was it the fact that she had two brand-new, identical sisters? The fear that gossip about their skinny-dipping escapade was already making its way across town? The idea that people were talking about the two of them being together?

  The unmistakable truth that they were lying in bed together, only a foot apart?

  He could sense her heat coming across the crisp sheets and taste the kisses he’d stolen by the pool. They pulled at him, luring him closer, but he was trying to be a gentleman. He didn’t want to pressure her or make her think he was taking advantage, but he seemed to be paying the price anyway.

  Space, apparently, wasn’t what she needed.

  He closed the distance, scooting right against her. If possible, the tension in the room ratcheted up another notch.

  He didn’t give it time to crank up any further. Planting a hand beside her head, he leaned over her and kissed her. Full and firm, slow and deep. She parted her lips in surprise, but the tiny gasp of air she took was his exhale. She tasted sweet and powerfully addictive. He kissed her leisurely before pulling back to judge her reaction.

  Her eyes were big under the moonlight as she clutched the edge of the sheet. She was holding it like a shield, but a flimsy one at that. “What…? What was that?”

  He ran his lips along the line of her jaw. Her skin was so soft, he could drown in it. “I don’t know about these parts, but in Chicago we call it a kiss.”

  The sheet twisted as he worked his way up to her earlobe. She was even softer there, even more responsive. A nip to her tender flesh got a shiver out of her, but she didn’t exactly pull away. “But why?”

  “Because you’re not flopping.”

  “What?”

  “You’re lying there like you’re about to go into surgery, all anxious and tense. What’s your worry, Beauty? Strangers in the house? Me in your bed?” He brushed his lips slowly across hers. “This?”

  She lay mute beneath him, watching him with those Red Riding Hood eyes.

  “I’m not going to force you to do anything, Maxie, but I’m also not going to let you work your nerves into a frazzle and your blood pressure into the red zone.”

  “I’m not worried about that. It’s just been a long time…” She let out a murmur when he nuzzled the side of her neck. “I can’t sleep.”

  The three tiny words were almost peeped.

  Arousal churned inside Zac, becoming thicker and tarter. He’d been fantasizing about this woman for months, dreaming of getting he
r right where she was—underneath him. But she was hurting and vulnerable. He stroked his tongue slowly across her pounding pulse. When it came right down to it, all he wanted was to take care of her.

  In any way she needed.

  “Why not?” He nudged aside the neck of her T-shirt with his nose and blew softly into the dip at the base of her throat. She swallowed convulsively, and the movement stroked her neck against the side of his cheek.

  So quiet, yet so seductive.

  She let out a frustrated breath. “Have you been paying any attention at all today?”

  “Oh, baby. I always pay attention.” Especially where she was concerned. He let his hand drop to her waist. Her lungs were pumping now. He could feel the exaggerated motion of her rib cage under his thumb.

  “Zac.” Dropping the sheet, she caught his arm. Her fingers dug into his biceps, but she didn’t push him away.

  “You need to turn off that brain of yours,” he whispered. “You need to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “I can’t. I can’t stop thinking.”

  He kissed her again, only this time it wasn’t slow and soft. The hunger bubbled up in him, and he ate at her mouth. Taking and tasting. Dipping his tongue deep. “Yes you can, and I know how to make you.”

  He knew what would stop the spinning of her brain. He’d done it earlier today, and he relished the challenge of doing it again. Letting his weight drop onto her, he raked his teeth across her lower lip. He knew how to draw her out of her own head. He knew how to reduce her to her base needs—to just feel, respond and demand pleasure.

  Because she did the same to him.

  She moaned when he pulled down the sheet and wrapped his hand around her breast.

  The contact was full, firm and possessive. He ran his thumb deliberately over her nipple. The cotton T-shirt was soft, and he could feel her delicate nub stiffening and pushing towards him. He rewarded it with a flick of his nail. “You took my breath away at the pool tonight.”

  She squirmed as he squeezed her. “I didn’t mean to… Oh!”

  “To turn me on?” He chuckled, the sound getting stuck in his tightening throat. “You did.”

  Her eyelids were heavy as she looked up at him.

  “You were natural and free.” He kissed his way down her temple and fondled her intimately. “Naked and gorgeous.”

  He molded their mouths together again as his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple. Her entire body arched into the kiss, and she clutched at his sides, then his back and lower.

  She wasn’t thinking now.

  He grunted as her hands settled on his ass. “So mind-blowingly uninhibited,” he rasped.

  She went still underneath him.

  Damn it.

  For a moment, Zac thought he’d done it again, like he had this morning in the kitchen. He pulled back to look at her, but what he saw in her face wasn’t what he expected. Her eyes were so dark the moonlight gave them no color whatsoever.

  When her lips moved, the words weren’t even a whisper. “Not timid?”

  Timid? “Hell no.”

  Timid was the last thing she’d been and apparently the last thing she planned on being.

  When she came at him, Zac almost wasn’t ready. Her body surged as she pressed against him. Her lips were hot on his and her hands… Good God, her touch was everywhere. On his ass, digging into his lower back and raking across his shoulders.

  She was suddenly on fire, and her spark set him off too.

  He anchored her to the mattress with his hips and a knee high between her legs. She rubbed against him needily, nearly sending him over the edge. His cock was lodged between them, and he felt every shift and wiggle.

  “Maxie,” he groaned.

  She wrapped one of those gorgeous legs around his waist and moaned when the position put them into even closer contact. He covered her other breast, and she shuddered when he used the material of her T-shirt to create more friction.

  Deliberately, he slid his free hand down her belly.

  “Skin,” she whimpered hoarsely.

  She wanted skin.

  Sometimes it was best to want. To ache and to crave.

  He left her T-shirt where it was, using it as an erotic barrier that kept his touch from her but protected her from nothing. “Feel that?”

  She gasped as he traced the crease at the top of her leg. “Zac, touch me.”

  He was. He didn’t know if he could stop touching her.

  He decided to give her skin, but only a little.

  Sneaking his hand under her T-shirt, he flipped it up enough to get at her panties. They weren’t the pink ones anymore. He’d seen what she’d surreptitiously taken from the dresser drawer. This pair was white, the color of purity, but they made him harder than the pistol he carried for his job.

  They both groaned when he pushed his hand inside, stretching the fabric. He stroked his fingers over her, parting her and sliding intimately along her slick, hot grooves. She clutched his back as he rubbed a particularly sensitive spot and her neck arched hard. This pair of panties might not be sopping, but she was wet underneath them. She twisted, and her hair tumbled in a wild waterfall across the pillows.

  “Skin,” she begged again.

  He left the T-shirt where it was, covering her fully except for where his hand had found access. Her breasts strained against the cotton, her nipples tenting the fabric. He spread his hand wider over her mound, cupping her boldly. Contrasted to the places where their bodies weren’t allowed contact, the feel was starkly intimate, almost unbearably hot.

  “Ahhh!” she cried.

  She was burning against his hand. He dipped his fingers into her wetness to give them both some relief. She was more than damp now. Changing those panties hadn’t done much good.

  He let his fingers play as he settled down over her, giving himself free rein. He’d wanted her for a long time, but this was better than he’d even dreamed.

  He tripped her clit, and she bucked so hard she nearly rolled him onto his back. He used his weight to keep her down and did it again. Her moan filled the expansive room. Upping the ante, he stroked her opening and felt her shudder. God, she was responsive. In this, she wasn’t timid at all.

  He kept at her until she was a trembling, groaning mess of hot, sultry woman beneath him. Only then did he press inside her, using two fingers instead of one. She was so slippery he knew she could take it, but so tight he was the one who almost lost it.

  She kissed him this time, the contact almost a punch. There was no difference deep in his gut. He began to plunge his fingers into her. Plunge and retreat, plunge and retreat. Her hand dove between his legs, and the top of his skull nearly blew clean off when she cupped him back.

  Her hand was small and delicate but strong and possessive. Instinct took over, and he started moving his hips against that intimate touch.

  Skin.

  Now he knew how she felt. He wanted his damn shorts off. He wanted her hands on him and his hands on her. Her T-shirt was driving him insane. He wanted her breasts against his chest, her belly pressed tight against his, but this felt so good. With their skin-to-skin contact limited to one erogenous zone, it focused everything to a fine, razor point.

  She began to tremble from head to toe. Breathing hard, Zac watched her. He moved his hand faster, harder, and she rode his rhythm almost frantically. He kept his touch on the pulse of her arousal, circling her clit and rolling it under the pad of his thumb. When he thrust his fingers deep inside her and let them curl, she came unglued.

  “Zac!” Her entire body went taut, the leg around his waist locking tight.

  He worked his fingers in again and left them deep, rubbing the walls of her tight, slick vagina. He knew when he found the place because those walls began to quake, her inner muscles clenching in ever-quickening spasms.

  When she came, it was hard and consuming. He let his fingers ride her through it. She rolled her head on the pillow, and her cry was sharp before he captured it with his mo
uth.

  She let the orgasm take her, surrendering to it with her pussy pressed solidly against his palm. Zac was strung tight as a bow as he led her gently down. She sagged onto the bed underneath them, and the possessive hold she’d had on his butt slipped off. Her arm flopped to the mattress.

  “My turn,” he said gruffly.

  He leaned over her for another kiss. He was wound so tight, it wouldn’t take much to set him off. He rocked his hips against hers and plumped her breast high, but hesitated when something felt off.

  She wasn’t responding to him anymore. He pulled back to look at her. Her lips were slack, and her body was heavy.

  Concern rushed through him, followed by confusion.

  And then disbelief.

  Was she asleep?

  She lay beneath him, primly covered by the T-shirt except where it was hitched up around his wrist. Her mouth was lax, and the lines of stress on her forehead were gone. Her lashes fanned across her cheeks as her chest rose and fell with each breath.

  As mind-boggling as it was, she was out like a light.

  He didn’t try to stop his groan. Was she kidding him? He was so close, and she was still holding on to his cock. Another single pass of her fingers would set him off. His shoulders clenched and his hand tightened possessively on her soft pussy. He could wake her back up. He knew how to get those pretty brown eyes to snap open.

  But that wasn’t who he was, and it wasn’t why he was here.

  He’d been trying to get her to relax, to stop thinking, hadn’t he?

  A rough laugh escaped him. Boy, he’d done a bang-up job of that.

  Gritting his teeth, he carefully disengaged his hand and then her leg from the small of his back. A bang-up job, yesiree. He pulled her T-shirt back down to cover her, smoothing it over the tops of her thighs.

  Son of a bitch.

  He edged away from her but was walking funny as he headed to the bathroom. She wasn’t the only one who needed a shower. He was hot and sticky. He adjusted his shorts. Definitely sticky. He needed a cool, soapy, shower.