by Sionna Fox
The sound of the water rushing over smooth river rocks calmed me as I eased myself onto a conveniently placed stump a short distance from the restaurant. A folk trio started playing, and the music and peals of laughter drifted on the evening breeze. That hot coil of anxiety in my chest started to unwind. Footsteps crunching gravel behind me startled me out of my calm-down mantra of mentally repeating you’re fine.
“All the suits at the cleaner’s?” Max’s deep voice was teasing.
I’d spent far too much time deciding on what to wear. Ella finally saved me from myself and picked out my clothes for me, a navy button-down and a pair of very tight, gray pants. I’d hoped my casual clothes could mask the fact that I was basically a walking bundle of frayed nerves.
Having just managed to get myself on an even keel, Max’s sudden appearance had me feeling even more lightheaded than I had at the party. Any cheeky comeback died in my throat as he sat on the ground next to me, big arms wrapping around his knees. He was more dressed up than the other two times I’d seen him, wearing a long-sleeved, knit, gray shirt and a pair of brown pants instead of flannel and denim.
Max looked at me for a long moment before rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed to be a habitual gesture for him. “Sheila told me you were bringing a date.”
“What?” Surprise stiffened my back. “I was going to bring Ella, my roommate. But she had work to do.”
Max huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “I was all bummed because I figured you were gonna show up with some hot dude.”
Had he been jealous? The thought made me weirdly giddy. We sat in silence for a long moment before he startled me yet again by rising to his feet in one smooth motion. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to stand too. My head spun and I immediately missed the contact when he let my hands fall.
“Okay, I’m just gonna say this. I’m really fucking into you, kid. We don’t know each other that well, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you because I don’t think we’re done. I’m sorry if I freaked you out that night in my car. But since the case is over I wanted to give it one last shot.” He spoke quickly and his throat sounded dry.
I tried and failed not to smile like a total fool, so I put my hand over my mouth and shook my head. “How old are you?” I asked finally, wanting to squeal with excitement.
Max’s eyebrows crashed together. “Huh? Wait. I, like, put it all out there, and that’s your response?”
“You keep calling me kid. How old are you?” I repeated the question.
A small smile curved on Max’s deliciously full lips. “I’m thirty-two. And sorry about the kid thing. I know you’re a total badass lawyer and all.”
“It’s okay.” I was definitely not fulfilling the badass lawyer role at the moment, tongue-tied as I was.
Hot sparks of pleasure ignited on my skin when Max’s eyes, a little sleepy-looking, met mine. When he spoke, his voice was even rougher than before. “So, are you just gonna leave me hanging?”
I wasn’t. He was right, there was no gray here. I wanted him and I could have him. So, I kissed him. The kiss wasn’t like last time. There was no worry or guilt holding me back. This was the kind of kiss I wanted to get lost in, never to be found. I wanted to memorize the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble against my face. A desperation like thirst burned in my throat as Max’s big, warm hand cupped the back of my neck. He groaned and deepened the kiss, bending just enough to bring us closer. Slowly, I traced the point of my tongue over his bottom lip. Max’s fingers tightened, and a low growl rumbled in his chest before he broke away. I actually felt my knees buckle the slightest bit when he nuzzled his nose against my cheek.
“Will you come home with me?”
Before I answered, I forced myself to study his face. Although I knew enough about Max’s altruistic animal rescue work and environmental activism, I hardly knew anything about him as a person. He could be a serial killer. Or, you know, a run-of-the-mill jerk. But his face was open, earnest. And his hazel eyes were clear and somehow kinder than I expected. He had a good face. A face I found myself trusting.
Max must have taken my pause for consideration as reluctance, though, because he put his hands up. “Dude, seriously if you’re not into it, no hard feelings at all. I’m good with whatever you want.”
His sincerity set me at ease. I trusted that he would legitimately respect me saying no if I didn’t want to hook up. “I’d like that…Do you mean now?” The words came out as a croak.
Max brushed a finger along my jaw, propelling a shiver down my spine. “Well, I figured we could celebrate a little more. That’s your boss in there, right? The lady with the blond hair?”
“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t be hiding out here. I just get kind of overwhelmed sometimes at parties.”
Pressing a swift kiss to my forehead, Max grabbed my hand and tugged me back to the restaurant. And I was oddly grateful that he didn’t let go as we ascended the porch steps. We chatted with people from the coalition, I sipped a glass of ice water, and I found myself having a nice time. When Lidia wandered over to talk, I appreciated that Max gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and excused himself. While EcoJustice was a far more laidback work environment than the city office I’d toiled at before, there was no denying that my boss was a shrewd powerhouse. She was genuinely kind, but that didn’t stop me from having a healthy fear of the woman.
“Thank you so much for coming all this way. I know things have been hectic with the FDA petition.” Although it was a cop-out to immediately default to work talk, I was worried she’d noticed how cozy I’d been with a certain member of the pipeline coalition as she walked over.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this. I’m sorry more people from the office couldn’t make it. This victory is a huge deal for us, Harry. Truly, I’m glad we hired you.” Her voice was reassuring. “In fact, I want to talk to you about taking on a similar case regarding opposing waste storage around the Finger Lakes. We can talk on Monday, but I’ll have Seti email some of the details tomorrow.”
The smile that stretched across my face was so big it hurt. And it didn’t fade as Max enveloped my hand in his, taking me exactly where I wanted to go.
6
Harry
The drive along heavily wooded roads to Max’s house only took about twenty minutes, but it was enough time for the glow of professional success and the thrill of Max’s interest to recede into a dull nervous ache. Just like the last time he spirited me away in his dusty truck, Max put on some soothing folksy country and sang along softly in a gravelly but pleasant voice. I needed to take lessons from the man on being comfortable in my own skin.
“What town is this?” I asked as we drove along a tiny main street dotted with businesses that could only be described as quaint.
“Phoenicia,” he said, eyes flicking over to me. “Born and raised here. My house is up the road.”
I’d spent a fair amount of time wondering about where Max lived. I’d pictured some off-the-grid cabin deep in the forest, complete with lots of flannel and rough wood. But the home he parked in front of was nothing like what I’d imagined. The small white bungalow was, well, totally normal. A wide porch stretched across the entire front of the house, crowded with hanging potted plants and a seriously large collection of wind chimes. That was surprising. The mental image of Max picking out wind chimes in the kind of cluttered gift shop my mom loved brought a smile to my lips. As we walked up the narrow path to the front door, a dog started barking inside.
“You like dogs?” Max asked as he pulled open the door. Before I could even answer, I was being pinned against the wall by a wiggling pit bull. A cold nose butted against my hand, clearly angling for some pets.
“I love dogs.” I grinned and scratched the dog’s boxy head, making his eyes squint and his tail wag in circles.
“That’s Ed. I have a cat too, somewhere. She usually hides when people come over.”
I followed Max into the living room, which l
ike the exterior of the house, surprised me. The furniture all looked antique: walnut bookcases crammed with old paperbacks, a brocade upholstered couch, overstuffed armchairs. Honestly, the place sort of reminded me of my house growing up, everything well-worn but tidy. Unlike my mother, however, Max thankfully did not cover every available surface in doilies and dishes of potpourri. With the exception of dozens of houseplants, there was almost nothing in the way of clutter.
“Nice place.” I smirked at the incongruity of the burly man and the slightly stuffy décor.
“Thanks. I didn’t really change much when I moved back in. My mom passed a few years ago and left me the house. She had a thing for antiques and I didn’t want to get rid of her stuff. But I had to draw the line at all the puppy paintings. Those ugly-ass things are in the attic.”
Unsure of what to say, I glanced nervously around the room. I wanted to kiss Max, but I wasn’t sure how to initiate this whole thing. Taking a deep breath, I closed the distance between us, pressing up on my toes to brush my lips against his. Max’s arms wound around me. Okay, well, that worked. What started as a light kiss grew hungry, and Max walked us back to the couch without breaking contact before pulling me down onto his lap. Damn, he was good at this.
My cock strained in my uncomfortably tight pants as Max nipped at my neck and rubbed his big hands up and down my back. I realized with a hot bolt of embarrassment that I was shamelessly writhing against him, but the hardness of his arousal had me figuring he didn’t really mind.
When he pulled back, I chased his lips, kissing him again quickly because I couldn’t get enough. Max smiled. “I’ve been thinking about this so much. Probably too much. But I don’t want to push and I’m not totally sure how to play this.” His fingers wandered to the small sliver of bare skin between my pants and shirt. “Now that we’re not working together, is there any reason you might not want to go to bed?”
I shivered as my heart seemed to stutter to a halt somewhere in my throat. His offer was both tantalizing and terrifying. “Well, in case you couldn’t tell, I’m nervous as fuck. So yeah, that doesn’t always go great.” I paused, trying to center myself with another deep breath. “But I’m very into the idea of trying, as long as you don’t mind the nerves.”
I thought Max would kiss me again, maybe scoop me up in his arms and carry me to his bedroom. But what he did was better. Gently he inclined his head to tap his forehead against mine. And when he spoke, his voice was soft. “That’s okay. I’m pretty nervous too.”
Max didn’t seem nervous, though, as the bedroom door clicked shut behind us, and he hauled me against him. I tugged at the hem of his shirt and scrabbled at his button fly, eager to see the body I’d spent far too much time fantasizing about. And the fantasies really hadn’t done him justice. His torso was thick, muscular but not gym-sculpted. But I hadn’t anticipated the tattoos. A finely rendered black-and-gray pine tree covered half his torso and the sharp outline of mountain peaks adorned his upper arm. I also made out what looked like a raven on his side, but then he was kissing me again and I lost myself in the sensation of his tongue against mine.
Unfortunately, after a moment Max pulled away, his lips quirking up. My face got hot. Had I done something wrong?
“Harry.” Max was grinning now, gesturing between us. Ah. He was fully, gloriously naked, and I was still fully, embarrassingly dressed. Quickly I fumbled with the buttons on my shirt and awkwardly tugged down my stupidly tight pants. I wanted to sink into the floor as I almost tipped over trying to take off my left sock. My shame evaporated, however, as Max groaned and tugged me down onto his neatly made bed.
The firmness of his lips and steady sounds of his pleasure had me achingly hard, desperate for the slide of his cock into me. The quick twinge of nervousness in my belly must have been evident on my face, though, because Max pulled away and fixed me with a searching look.
“Are you okay with this? We can do whatever you want.” He grazed his thumb over my lips, which were slightly tingly from all the kissing.
“Sorry,” I croaked. “I’m good. It’s, um, it’s been awhile.”
“For me too,” Max admitted easily. His hands drifted down my chest to my hips, and I swallowed audibly, throbbing with desire.
“I usually bottom. Is that all right with you?” The words came out so quickly I wondered if Max would even understand what I was saying.
Max grinned wolfishly and his arms encircled me, pulling me onto him. Our cocks brushed, and I gasped at the drag of hot flesh on flesh. Every sense seemed to be heightened in a way that was wholly unfamiliar for me. Usually during sex, I retreated mentally, keeping my eyes shut and pushing myself into the safe space of fantasy. But Max was so solid and real beneath me. I wanted to be present: to taste his sweat and dig my fingers into his thick thighs and watch his muscles clench as he drove into me.
“We don’t have to have sex, you know. I didn’t ask you to come over just so I could fuck you,” Max whispered into my neck.
“I want to. I’ve thought about you a lot. Way too much. Like, I’ve spent an obscene amount of time imagining this over the past eight months. So. Please.” My voice was whiny and strange, but I didn’t care. I needed him. Now.
But Max had other ideas, sliding his tongue from my throat to my chest, and finally to my cock before he plunged lube-slicked fingers into my ass. He reminded me to breathe. Slowly, I relaxed. I knew, somehow, that he would be careful with me. By the time Max moved to replace his fingers with his sheathed, well-lubed erection, I was keening under him and sure that I would immediately tip over the edge. Max gripped my legs, tilting them back as he lined up. I welcomed the moment of painful pleasure as he breached my entrance. The feel of him, warm and heavy inside me pulled a whimper from my mouth.
“You okay?” Max’s voice was raw, and his eyes locked on mine. The affection radiating off him made my head buzz.
“Yes. So good. Please fuck me.”
He rocked his hips, pushing in fully and catching his bottom lip between his teeth. I knew I wouldn’t last, knew I’d already been close to losing it the moment the tip of his cock slipped inside me. But when he wrapped his fingers around my shaft, pumping in time with his steady thrusts, I lost any semblance of control. Every muscle stretched tight and my world dissolved into white-hot pleasure. My orgasm trembled through me and I spilled into Max’s fist. His eyes were trained on my cock as I clenched around him. He fucked me harder, sending shocks of pleasure though my ass and balls. I lifted my hips just enough for him to slide in even deeper and his jaw locked open, corded neck exposed as his head fell back. A groan rumbled out of him and into me as he came.
Every muscle felt loose and warm when Max pulled out, tucking the condom into a tissue. For a moment I wondered if I should retreat to the bathroom, clean up, and head out. But Max burrowed his face into my hair, half kissing, half nuzzling.
“Damn.” Max laughed, snaking his arms around me to pull me even closer. “That was better than I imagined. And I have a pretty active imagination.”
I wanted to laugh with him, but my emotions were all mixed up. I was wrung out and relaxed, my limbs heavy and my eyes drifting closed. Shit. Max probably didn’t want me to spend the night. Cuddling after sex didn’t necessarily mean he wanted me to sleep over.
“Um, do you know how late the trains run?”
Max looked down at me, eyebrows furrowed. “I can drive you back to the city if you want to head out. But if you want to spend the night…Well, I’d really like that.” His kiss was almost tentative.
Relief flooded me and I actually squirmed with happiness as I nodded. This man, this place, this day, all of it was right.
* * *
I woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and something warm and sweet. I was alone in Max’s bed, wrapped in soft, blue sheets and a slightly scratchy wool blanket. Downstairs, pans clattered and the drone of public radio reminded me so much of weekend mornings at my apartment I grinned. When time allowed, Ella and I l
oved listening to Weekend Edition and Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me as we wolfed down bodega breakfast sandwiches and guzzled the tar Ella tried to pass off as coffee.
As I shifted and stretched in bed, delighting in the buttery sunlight filtering through the open window and replaying the deliriously satisfying middle-of-the-night frot session we’d pulled each other into, some kind of ungodly yowling wrenched me from my thoughts. Remembering Max mentioned he had a cat, I scanned the room, figuring that the thing had to be hurt, kicking up that kind of racket. But when I glanced at the floor next to the bed, I saw a very old, very wary-looking cat staring at me with narrowed yellow eyes.
“Hey, cat.” I smiled tentatively at it. I swear the thing gave me a side-eye. Gingerly I patted the bed next to me as a peace offering.
The house I grew up in sat at the end of an isolated country road, and a few times a year some asshole would abandon a litter of kittens or an old cat in our yard. My dad, a living exemplar of the phrase bleeding-heart, not only fed the cats but eventually converted a room of our cramped house into a cat paradise with pots of catnip, climbing trees, and dozens of toys. So, I thought I knew how to charm a feline. But this one was having none of it.
“You’re up.” Max pushed open the door, bearing two steaming mugs. Ed barreled in after him. The dog immediately launched his paws onto the bed before Max warned him not to even think about it.
“I don’t think your cat likes me.” I glanced from Max, who looked unfairly hot in nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweats, back to the cat.
“Oh, she’s an asshole. She doesn’t like me either.” Clearly this was untrue, though, as the animal wound around his ankles and purred.
I took a grateful sip of coffee, startled to find it was made perfectly, more milk and sugar than caffeinated liquid. “How did you know?” I asked, lifting the mug. “I mean, thank you.”