by Belle Aurora
I look over at Ash and mutter, “You think she really didn’t know?”
He looks over at me, brows raised, before looking at the scene his wife is making, then looks back to the TV, reaching for more chips. “She really didn’t know.”
Nat sighs. “I’m not going to tell them. Relax, Max. But it would’ve been nice for you to tell me yourself and for me not to have found out through the youngest Kovac spawn.” She smiles softly and I know Nina is apologizing to her, probably by calling her a moron for not working it out sooner. “So I hear you’ve got yourself a girl, huh? What’s her name?” Nat laughs. “Amelia. Nice. Sounds like she’s a real lady.” She grins. “So does that make you the man in the relationship?” Her smile falls. “Hello? Nina?” She holds up her cell, looking irate. “Bitch hung up on me!”
I shrug and tip my head slightly. “Calling a woman a man will do that.”
Nat stares down at the phone as if it offends her, and even though she’s acting like a turd, I know she’s happy to be in the know. Maybe Nat finding out isn’t so bad. Pushing her cell back into her pocket, she mumbles through a pout, “Sensitive beaver-eating mole.”
Uh, yeah. Okay. Maybe not.
***
Helena
When Max told me he and I were going out on a date, I prepared myself for the best date ever. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was building it up in my head. And when I say I built it up, I mean I made it into the freaking Eiffel tower. Then he came to pick me up dressed in dark jeans, a black button-up shirt untucked, his white sneakers, and his too-long-to-be-tamed hair carefully tousled, and my heart let out a long, dreamy sigh.
By that point, my engine was already revving. I sashayed over to him, smiling innocently, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hoping for a taste of what was to come later in the night. His bright smile faltered when I pressed myself against him, leaning up to kiss under his jaw, letting my hand linger on the silver belt buckle at the waist of his jeans.
He cleared his throat before he rasped, “What are you doing, cupcake?”
Of course he could see right through me. I wasn’t hiding what I wanted from him. Not in the slightest. My light jeans a contrast to his dark ones, I pushed my breasts into his chest (thank the lord for high heels), my silky tan tank brushing deliciously over my stomach, spurring me further, and breathed, “Having dessert.”
His arms went around me then, one firmly wrapped around my back, pulling me devastatingly close, while the other hand slid down my body, over the curve of my hip to cup my butt. He made a low noise of arousal in his throat, and the hand splayed on my cheek squeezed. “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
I pouted, looking up at him with what Nat calls my Bambi eyes. I had practiced this look growing up. The time spent practicing clearly paid off. There was little I would ask for that my parents would say no to when I pulled these babies out. I lifted my fingers, spacing them an inch apart. “Not even a little play?”
He looked down at me with those liquid golden eyes and I knew I had him. He sighed dramatically before kissing my mouth, and he didn’t do it half-assed. He never did. He kissed me deep, taking his time, tasting me. “How can I say no to you?” Grinning, I lowered myself, slow and sexy, ‘til I knelt in front of him. He looked down at me questioningly, and then I reached up to undo his belt. His eyes widened a moment before he broke into a grin. “Rock’n’roll, baby.”
He lifted his shirt a little to help me out. It took no time at all to unbutton him and lower his zipper, and then with a swift yank, his jeans and boxer were around his knees. He was only semi-erect, but still looking too big and much too thick to fit entirely in my mouth. I wrapped my fingers around him, ignoring Max’s hiss, then looked up into his eyes.
I knew men liked that. I had been friends with a guy in college, a total horn-dog, who once told me that guys loved when a woman was on her knees, looking up at them innocently. Even more so when the woman was wearing lipstick, apparently any color would do. He also told me that men loved when a woman maintained eye contact during a blowjob. I was about to test that theory.
Max looked down at me, eyes hooded, mouth slightly parted. It was always like this with him. He had no poker face. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and I loved that.
I loved him.
This was still not something I was willing to put out there. Hell, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to put it out there. I knew it was too soon. I knew it would freak the fuck out of Max. I decided to work on him slowly. If I spooked him, he’d run. I couldn’t lose him. He was already part of me. So was Ceecee. I was done fighting it.
Max was my one exception. He was likely one of the only men out there who would not only support my work choice, but also be proud of me for doing it. And if long hours and weekends were shot, I know he would understand. After all, his work at the club was not during the most convenient hours either. But I was willing to deal.
I was happy keeping my secret, and would do whatever it took for it to remain that way. The only person I would have to careful around was Nik. The man saw everything.
Max gently reached down, cupping my cheek with one hand, while lifting my long hair over my shoulder with the other. I looked up once more, holding his heavy cock, gently kissing the head. Blinking, I whispered, “So big.”
He gripped my chin, his lips twisting into a small, sexy smile as he rumbled, “You like it, baby? Say you like my cock.”
It wasn’t really a request. It was a demand. My core clenched and I licked the sensitive underside. Speaking against his throbbing length, I sighed softly, “I love it.” I love you.
My lips parted, and with him guiding me by his hold on my chin, I took in what I could of him. But it wasn’t easy. For the amount of smart-assing and shit-talking we manage, my sisters and I have quite the small mouths. Curse it to heck.
Opening my mouth wide, I took in a little more, sucking him deep. Max threw his head back, one hand at my chin, the other now fisting the hair at my nape. At the slight pain, I moaned around him, and his fingers tightened around the loose strands of my hair as he gently thrust in and out of my mouth.
At one point, he thrust a little too hard without meaning to and I gagged. Imagine my shock when that only fueled Max’s fire. The dirty fucker.
I knew the exact moment he lost control. His hooded eyes trained on where my mouth wrapped around his cock and he growled, a low, animalistic sound I was starting to love to hear, and I heard it every time I put my hands on him. I was wetter than I should have been. Giving head shouldn’t be that much of a turn on, right? Regardless, I was soaked, and even though I wanted him inside me, I would settle for watching Max lose control, because watching Max lose control was becoming my most favorite thing to witness.
The hand in my hair loosened before both of his hands cupped my cheeks. He made low rumbling noises in his throat as he quickened his thrusts, his brows furrowed in concentration, watching me closely. He was almost there. He stopped his thrusting and I began stroking him as I kept sucking as deep as I could. Breathing heavily, he cursed. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.”
When he tried to pull out, I tightened my fingers around him and sucked harder, willing him to understand I wouldn’t be letting him go this time. His eyes snapped open. “Are you sure?”
Jeez, Max. I’m kinda busy here. You mind saving the questions ‘til after?
Not willing to take my mouth off him, I sucked deeper, faster. His chest heaved with every breath he took, groaning in pure pleasure. It almost sounded like a purr. He released my cheeks to run his thumb over my bottom lip as I bobbed my head onto him. He muttered, “So pretty. You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
That was that. When he came, he came fluidly. This was not hot, harsh sex. This was pure intimacy, made more intimate as I swallowed every spurt of the warm saltiness of my reward. His pleasure was my reward. We stayed that way for a long while. His throbbing cock now softening, I gently released him, running my tongue along his still impr
essive length. He shuddered, blinking down at me drowsily.
I had to smile. I’d done that to him. I loved that so damn much. So when Max opened his mouth, I’d expected something just as intimate as my act to follow.
I was wrong.
He helped me up, pulling me to him, then he squeezed me tight.
This is nice, I thought. I buried my nose into his neck and breathed in the subtle scent of his cologne. Pulling back, he kissed my cheek before tucking himself back in and smiling down at me. “Thanks, cupcake.” He sighed, contently. “I needed that.”
My face fell. I blinked. It took a moment to register what he’d just said. Obviously I had misread what this was. This date was not a step forward in our non-relationship. This was nothing to him. This was the reason I needed to hide my feelings. This was the reason I’d likely be single forever.
And that fucking sucked.
Pun intended.
***
Max
The moment I said what I said, I saw the look on her face. The disappointment, the sadness and hurt. Did I really just thank her for one of the best blowjobs in my life?
This is why I’m going to be single forever.
I’m a coward, and a royal fuck-up.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Helena
I manage to paste on a smile and quell down my stupid emotions enough to fake my happy, take Max’s hand, and walk down to his car with him. As we drive, he holds my hand. I look down at our entwined fingers and my chest pangs. What that simple gesture means to him and what it means to me are two different things. It means everything to me. To him, it’s just a sure sign he’s getting laid later. I clench my teeth and roll my eyes as I turn back to look out the window.
You’re so stupid. He doesn’t care about you. He cares about Ceecee. You’re being used.
Am not.
Hello? Dignity? Where the hell are you?
We made a deal. I knew what I was getting into. I shouldn’t be so shocked, and truthfully, I’m not. Max never promised me anything. I was the one who let herself get lost in false hope. I knew better than to do such a thing. I’d never have the sweet love that Tina and Nik have, or even the passionate love that Nat and Asher have. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I’d be content without it.
Then why is your heart aching just thinking about it?
I look over at Max, and as if he senses it, he turns to me. He searches my face, eyes narrowed before asking softly, “You okay, babe?”
“Of course,” I lie easily.
His fingers squeeze mine. “If you don’t want to do dinner, it’s okay. We can just get something to go and take it back to your apartment. Mom’s got Ceecee for the night.” His dimple pops out with his smile. “I can undress you and rub lotion into you. You know, give you a massage.”
I smile at that. Why does he have to be so clueless in some ways, make me angry, then say something sweet. It’s almost impossible to stay mad at him, damn it right to hell. I hide my smile by biting my lip. “Rub lotion into me? Massage me? Whoa. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through something like that.”
Max sighs, bringing my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “I admit it would be a trial, but I know together, we’ll get through it.”
Together.
My playful mood is gone with the use of that one word.
How long will we be together?
We arrive at the restaurant and Max manages a parking spot right out front. He warned me it wouldn’t be fancy, but I didn’t expect this. My mood picks up as he opens the passenger door for me like a gentleman. I ask in surprise, “Mexican?”
He shrugs, and I could be wrong, but I swear he blushes. “I wanted to take you someplace I love.” He stills. “You do like Mexican, right?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t think you should’ve asked that beforehand?”
His face falls dramatically before he lifts a hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, Lena. I’m so sor—”
“I love Mexican,” I chuckle then tease, “dumbass.”
He breathes deep then lets out a long exhale. I take his hand, still chuckling, and he shoots daggers at me. He walks by my side, imitating me in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. “I love Mexican, dumbass.” His voice turns normal again and he mutters a low, “I would remind you that as soon as we leave, your ass is mine. I’d remember that if I were you.”
I round my mouth in mock-horror and stand on the spot, shaking my legs with enthusiasm. “Oh no. The bad man’s gonna get me.”
His palm connects with my ass hard, ripping a shocked yelp from my throat. He stands toe-to-toe with me, looking down into my face. “How’d you like that?”
I swallow hard and my nethers tingle. Honesty is the best policy, I’ve always said (when it suits me, of course). I respond a hushed, “I liked it enough to want to push my luck again, and again, and again.”
He lowers a hand to my collarbone, stroking his thumb over the sensitive skin there. His mouth hovers over mine. “Stop it.”
I run my bottom lip across his and mutter, “Stop what?”
He kisses me hard on the mouth. Pulling back a hairs-breadth, he bites my bottom lip, gently tugging at it before responding, “Stop being sexy.”
My grin is small, but it’s there. “Sorry, but you started it.”
He returns, “You started it.”
I scoff, “You so totally started it!”
He mock-glares at me. “Real mature, Lena.” We walk hand-in-hand, grinning like a couple of fools. He holds open the door for me, and as I walk into the restaurant, he whispers by my ear, “You started it,” and I burst into laughter. I love this silly side of Max.
We’re shown to our table in this quaint restaurant, and although it’s small, it’s beautifully decorated with red-and-white-checkered tablecloths, stools instead of chairs, and candles on the tables. It makes for an intimate setting, and I secretly love that Max brought me here and not some fancy restaurant where the meals are served on plates the size of car tires with meals the size of my palm. When the server arrives by our table, Max looks over at me and asks, “Mind if I order?”
I smile sweetly. “Not if you know what’s good.”
He grins at me. “I know what’s good, baby.”
I reach for my glass of water and sip, when a soft voice by the side of the table utters, “Max?”
Max and I both look up at the server, but Max is the only one who pales. “Oh, um, hey, Kate. How you doin’?”
Kate, the young Hispanic-looking server with olive skin, long black curls, and soft eyes responds in a hurt tone, “You never called.”
My eyes leave the server, and wide-eyed, I turn to stare at Max. “You have got to be kidding me right now, Max.” Did he seriously bring me to a restaurant where he shtupped one of the wait staff?
But Max blinks up at Kate, silently cursing her before stating the obvious. “I’m on a date here, Kate.”
Kate turns to me still looking hurt, and I feel for her. I know what it’s like to be rejected by Max. It seriously blows. With a sigh, I tell her, “Honey, trust me. He’s completely oblivious when it comes to the opposite sex. You need neon signs and flashing lights for this one.”
Max utters an offended, “Hey,” while Kate smiles and admits, “I thought it was just me.”
I shake my head. “Nope. It’s all him. Believe me.”
Max repeats his insulted, “Hey!”
I’m curious now. I jerk my chin up at her. “What did he do?”
Max starts, “I don’t think we need to be discussing tha—”
But Kate cuts him off. “He took me out for lunch and we made out.” She turns to look down at him, placing a hand on her hip. “Never to be seen again.”
Max squirms in his chair, then forces a laugh. “Kate, babe, it was just a kiss.”
Well, I hate to admit it, but I’m glad he hasn’t fucked her. But still. I shake my head at him. “Oh, Max. You’re such a turd.”
Kate jerks her chin at me, mirroring my previous gesture. “You his girl?”
Max tries to break into the conversation with, “So this is kind of funny, right?” but as we speak over him, he fades out and continues to squirm.
I sigh dramatically. “Sadly, yes.”
Her eyes narrow at me before she declares, “I like you. You’re getting the house nachos on the house.”
Smiling at her, I reach out to her. “I’m Helena. Sorry Max is a big, stupid baby.”
She grins, taking my hand. “Kate. Nice to meet you, and don’t worry about it.” She glances at him before whispering, “He’s kind of flighty.”
Max is one of the most reliable men I know. He’s not flighty at all, but I know what she’s doing, so I don’t correct her. Instead, I play along. I wink at her. “You’re lucky you got away when you did.”
She chuckles, then steps away. “I’ll be right back.”
As she does, I smile over at Max. “I like her.”
He stares me down, clearly not amused. “Glad I could make introductions. I’m sure you’ll be best friends forever.”
Silently gloating in his discomfort, I reach across the table and snatch up a handful of corn chips, crunching away through a sly smirk. Mouth semi-full, I speak around my chips, “C’mon, Max. Admit it. It’s kinda funny.”
Kate returns with a plate full of nachos, piled with ground beef, oozing cheese, and chopped tomatoes. It looks amazing, and the smell of the spices has me salivating. She places it down in front of me with a smile. “Enjoy. Call me when you’re ready to order.”
Max starts, “We’re ready to—” And I laugh as she turns, swishing her hair, and walks away, obviously ignoring him. Max eyes my plate, licking his lips. “Can I get in on that?”
Lifting a corn chip stacked with goodies, I shake my head. “Nope. Consider it your punishment,” I tease, then I shove it in my mouth.