Had To Make You Mine

by Kat Long

  “Ugh! Stop. I need a minute. Back off, buckwheat. I’ll be in the beer cooler.”

  “You still suck at nicknames,” he called after me.

  I stomped to the cooler in the back, piling my hair on my head and fanning my face. When I opened the heavy door, the cool air hit my overheated body, and I rummaged around until I found a twist-top beer. I closed my eyes and took a drink before putting the cold bottle against my forehead.

  The door opened again, but I didn’t open my eyes or turn around. Warm, strong arms wrapped around me. Arms I fit into. Arms I belonged in. I turned around to see Max. He took the beer from my hand and finished it before laying it on the floor.

  “Hey there, Sparkle-Pants.”

  “Sparkle-Pants? You bragging that you’re like the king of nicknames or something?”

  “No, but I’ll take that title. I just wanted to talk without an audience.”

  Max put his hands in his pockets and shuffled from foot to foot. I focused on the steady hum of the air conditioning and the cases of beer lining the walls, hoping there was a way for us to come to terms with this.

  “When did you know, Max? I can’t tell how you’re feeling.”

  “Um, when I stopped blaming myself and actually listened to Warren’s story, I knew. It’s been a long afternoon. And I don’t know how I’m feeling, Blue. Tired maybe? When did you know?”

  “I didn’t admit it to myself until Bird introduced you, but I think I knew when we left here the other night. Do you want to leave?”

  I stepped back and rubbed my arms, chasing away the tingling feeling.

  “Yes. No. I feel like this entire thing wouldn’t have happened if we had an honest, non-vague conversation about our past. I’m tired of being the last to know everything. It’s maddening,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Are you putting this all on me, Max? It’s not like you were very forthcoming about your last name.” I sagged down, not even angry, sitting on a full case of beer and letting the cold seep through my leggings. Maybe he should put this all on me.

  “No, not at all. I meant to tell you my last name but didn’t. I despise being a Smerdon, knowing the power and influence that comes with the name. When I moved here, I wanted to leave that name behind, leave my old life behind. That’s on me, and we should have had this discussion weeks ago. But this has to stop. No more secrets.”

  “I agree. And I get why you wanted to leave that name behind. But wow, Ace.”

  “Ace? Really? Still working on that nickname, Blue?” He smiled at me, and his features softened.

  “Ugh, nothing works. And what’s worse is I don’t really feel like singing.”

  Max rubbed my shoulders, and the tingling feeling was back. He leaned in and cupped the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my bun and pulling it out.

  The cold air was supercharged, and when his lips touched mine, electricity cracked from my mouth to his. I parted my lips and let him tease along the seam with his tongue, tasting the bourbon, tasting him. He deepened the kiss, and I sighed into his mouth, pulling his hips to mine.

  Holy Wow. Max knew how to own a woman’s mouth.

  He explored my mouth, teasing my tongue with his and keeping a firm grip on my hair. His hips dug harder into mine, and he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, reminding me of how well he could work that tongue over every inch of my body.

  The leisurely kiss quickly turned possessive, and I pulled away to press my forehead to his, “Max, so good.”

  He gave me a wicked grin, glasses fogged with our combined heat, and surged in again with renewed vigor, nipping, sucking, and licking my lips, jaw, and neck. I wrapped one leg around him as if he was my personal playground and sexy as fuck. He kissed me hot and hard, his tongue devouring mine, claiming me, as if I had any intention of going anywhere.

  He pressed our foreheads back together and untangled his hands from my hair, breathing deep before giving me one of his signature panty-melting smiles. And said panties were definitely close to spontaneously combusting.

  “Now that’s bull-shit. I haven’t heard Warren play in years, and the sight of you on stage in those skin-tight, sparkle-pants is not something I want to miss. Though I will need you to elaborate on the dry-humping of Warren.”

  “Oh. Yes. Well, that’s exactly what I do. It’s a whole routine we always used to end our shows. We practiced it in the garage for months before we even tried it on stage.”

  “I’ll need to see that Blue, and remind myself my brother is a happily married man.”

  “Would it help if I told you I pull a red scarf out of my boobs and ‘pretend’ to strangle him at the end?”

  “Wow. That’s intense. And yes, that helps. Thanks.”

  “Anything for you, Hot-Stuff.”

  “Ugh, give it up, Sparkle-Pants. Technically, my name is Maxwell, so Max is a nickname.”

  “Never. Just you wait, I’ll find the perfect one.” I rubbed my arms. The adrenaline and sweat had finally dried up. My teeth chattered, and Max turned around and led me out of the cooler. We walked hand in hand to the front room, where five pairs of eyes turned toward us.

  The lights looked hazy, and someone had taken my JIVA10 and put it beside the microphone on stage right. The wood creaked as I walked up the side stairs to the stage, with Max behind me.

  “Here, have an orange,” Uncle Bob said, walking forward and handing me a slice before giving my cheek a kiss. “You two kids, okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so. It was a lot to process. It still is.”

  I stepped closer on the creaky wood stage to run my fingers over my guitar and smile at the band, my band. Max looked on with one hand in his pocket and his head on a swivel, taking in the setup.

  “Tell me about it. Your mom flipped out.”

  Uncle Bob reached out and shook Max’s hand with a nod before turning back to me. The blue spotlights were already calling. I was finally ready.

  “Oh, UB. You called mom?”

  “Duh, they both are planning on coming by later.” He chuckled to himself and shook his head, handing me another slice.

  “That’s right, I’d forgotten.”

  “Understandable, given the drama. You ready for them to meet Max?”

  “Doesn’t seem like I have a choice.” Finishing the orange, I opened and closed my hands, shaking them out and tapping chords on my thigh.

  Bird walked behind me and smacked my ass with a crack that made me squeak. “Come on, guys. I’m itching to play. Let’s do this!” He clapped Uncle Bob on the back, and then Max, shooing them towards the stairs.

  Max leaned forward and gave me a PG kiss, very different from almost mounting me in the cooler. I wondered if he would take me back and give me an orgasm or two—just a little something to take the edge off.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Blue. And don’t you worry, I’m coming home with you tonight.” He was leaning down close, breath whispering against my ear. “Those boots are giving me all kinds of ideas.” His fingers traced a line down my arm, and I pressed myself closer. I could never get close enough. This man could perpetually be inside of me, and I’d still be pulling him down harder to feel more.

  “Thank fuck,” I said back, giving him a sly smile. With one more kiss, he saluted Bird and the band, following Uncle Bob and Aunt Diane off stage.

  Walking over, I picked up my guitar, adjusted the strap, and ran my fingers over the dark, polished wood. Max sat at a high-top table by the bar, legs spread and hands resting on his knees, looking hot as sin.

  “So, you love my brother?” Bird asked, sauntering up to me with his bass guitar slung low.

  “I am very much in like with your brother.” Strumming a few cords to warm up my fingers, I smiled and felt my cheeks grow hot with the obvious lie.

  “Okay, keep telling yourself that, babe. Now, should we open with Pois
on? I know how much you love Alice Cooper.” I nodded, and he stepped up to the microphone. Bird adjusted it, before testing out a few lyrics before giving Uncle Bob a thumbs up.

  I nodded and smiled, blowing Max a kiss before the stage lights turned up and his face faded away. Taylor strutted over, handing me a red scarf, and I tucked it in my boobs before giving him a fist bump. Alex stepped up to my other side, and the four of us looked at each other, smiling.

  “Do it right!” I started, bringing my hand in the middle.

  “Or not at all!” Bird added, putting his hand on mine.

  “Own the stage!” Alex said, flipping her drumstick up and catching it before putting her hand in.

  “And chicks dig scars!” Taylor finished, slapping his hand on top.

  This felt right, and I felt whole.

  Ready to let go of the guilt.

  Ready to love.

  We finished our set, and the lights dimmed, finally giving me a clear picture of our small audience. I was sticky and sweaty, feeling freer than I had in years. My parents were smiling and waving, and my mom was snapping pictures.

  Shaking my head, I waved back and walked over to put my guitar away. Bird was already jumping off the stage to greet my parents with Taylor close behind. I scanned the space for Max but came up empty, wondering if he had stepped out for a minute. Grabbing my almost empty water bottle, I finished it before going down to greet everyone.

  I was still looking for Max as I hugged my parents and chatted with Alex. It wasn’t until Uncle Bob walked over shaking his head that I knew he’d left.

  “Max said he needed some air, Annaleigh. And that he would call you later.”

  Bird slid over beside me and bent down to my ear.

  “Don’t let this worry you. He takes time to process stuff. He was like this growing up too. And you should have heard him talking about you this afternoon. Trust me, that man is head over heels in love with you.”

  Bird pressed another drink in my hand, but I pushed it away and got water. It was close to midnight, and I was fading fast. Less than a half-hour later, we said our goodbyes, making plans for brunch.

  Taylor walked me to my car and kissed my cheek. Sliding into the front seat, I started the engine when a car came barreling down the street with its high beams on, practically blinding me. I thought I glimpsed white blonde hair as the car sped by on the road. I shielded my eyes, and it took a minute before I could see enough to pull out of the parking lot. Douche.

  The drive depleted the last of my energy. When I got home, I gave Baxter some scratches and left a trail of clothes to the bathroom. I filled up the tub and sank under the mountain of bubbles. I didn’t bother to check my phone. Max knew my number. He could call me when he got his head out of his ass.

  He needed time to process. Hell, I needed time to process. But these bubbles felt too good, and I was too tired to be mad. Sinking down further, I let the stress melt away.

  - 26 -

  INSECURITY’S CHAINS

  Max

  I was questioning everything.

  Everything.

  And it didn’t help that I think I saw Benjamin when Warren and I walked into the bar. Maybe I was delusional. It was a very real possibility. I was sure Warren would agree.

  Or Bird.

  Whatever the fuck his nickname was. Too many important moments in my life started with the words, Annaleigh Mackey. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but damn, ease up on the coincidences.

  I was driving with no destination, making turn after turn, following the white lines on the road. Muscle memory took over, letting my head mull over the night. Seeing her on stage, playing with the band, was better than the office, better than Tennessee. The way she moved. The way she played—doing what she loved. It was amazing to watch. Her smile stretched across her entire face, and she looked happier than I’d ever seen her.

  I don’t know why I left before the set was done, but the air in the room was suddenly stifling. I left her family, and I left Warren when I high-tailed it out of the bar. Uncle Bob clapped me on the back like he understood, but it still felt like I was running away from my issues.

  A light turned red, and I sent a text to Warren apologizing before I threw my phone down, grimacing in the dark. I leaned my head back, waiting for the light when Warren’s text came back.

  Warren: It’s time to stop running.

  He was right. I was so desperate to make her mine, to be in her space. And when I was, seeing her in her element, seeing her beautiful and glowing with happiness, I ran.

  The light turned green, and I rolled down my windows and turned up the radio. That same song from the retreat was on, Whatever It Is. I hummed along and listened to the words, looking around to get my bearings. Straight ahead was her house. Of course, it was. My subconscious was light years ahead of my brain, already knowing exactly what I wanted.

  I pulled into a spot on the road and turned off the engine. It had only been a few hours since I’d last touched her, and I already needed more. Running was stupid. It stops now. All these feelings threatened to overwhelm me, but for once, I let them come, fully accepting what I admitted to Warren earlier.

  I need her.

  I want her.

  I love her.

  And it’s time to tell her.

  Here the hell we go.

  I stomped back up her stairs and knocked on the door. Probably harder than I needed to, but right now, the only thing I needed was her. Glancing at my watch, I realized she might be sleeping. But a minute later, she opened the door a crack. She gave me a once over before opening it wider, then turned around and walked away. I got a glance of her make-up-free face.

  She looked more beautiful at this moment than she ever had before. She looked like the woman I loved. She was so fucking gorgeous it hurt.

  We didn’t speak. I kicked the door shut and stalked straight towards her. She was like a baby zebra, helpless. Ready for the taking. Ready to be devoured.

  Baxter trotted up to me, sniffed my hand, and demanded scratches. I bent down to pet him, and his tail shook so hard his entire body moved. Content with the attention, he licked my hand and disappeared into the other room. Good. He didn’t need to see what I was about to do to his mama.

  Grabbing her arm, I pushed her against the kitchen island, eyes never leaving hers. I was ready to tell her all the things, tell her she was it for me. But when I saw the sexy little crease between her eyebrows and the way her eyes sparkled in the light, all the words I had prepared to say evaporated to nothing.

  Wondering for half a second if she was angry, I caged her in my arms and crowded her space. But she was gazing at me as if I was the sexiest thing she’s ever seen. She was so delicate but so strong, and I was sure my heart would beat out of my chest if I didn’t taste her, if I didn’t tell her.

  I leaned in and traced my nose along her neck, breathing her in. “I missed you, Blue.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have left,” she answered, crossing her arms but leaning into my touch. So beautiful. So sassy. So mine. Pressing my lips to her neck, I growled and licked a line up to her earlobe.

  “No, I shouldn’t have. Tell me how to make it up to you, Blue.”

  She made a sexy little moan and arched her neck, giving me better access.

  “You can stop leaving when things get hard, Max. That’s not how this works. We have to talk to each other and open up like you said.”

  I was not expecting her to call me out, but she was right. Righter than I’d like to admit. Breathing her in and sucking on the tendon where her neck met her shoulder, I answered with a growl. She reached up and gave my hair a sharp yank. I hissed and bit down on her neck before meeting her eyes.

  “I know, Blue. No more running for either of us. And no more passing blame. And there is something you need to know,” I said, palming her breast and l
etting my thumb slide over her nipple.

  Fuck, she wasn’t wearing a bra, just a flimsy blue T-shirt and shorts. I traced circles over her nipples, loving how they pebbled under my touch. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and a soft moan escaped her lips. The little movement of my fingers made her squirm.

  “You’re it for me, and you’re mine. No more running. I’m going to spend every day showing you how much you mean to me and every night worshiping your body.”

  “Good. I like you around in the morning. I like you around all the time. I’m yours, Max. And you’re mine,” she said, letting go of my hair and running her hands underneath my shirt.

  “Damn right. I was thinking of fucking you on the terrace tonight, but the living room works just as well.”

  “Max,” she whispered, and those breathy little moans went straight to my cock.

  I felt vulnerable and exposed. In the years I’d been with Nicole, we’d never had this intimacy, never had this connection. It was like I’d lived my life in total darkness, and she woke me up with flashes of blues and purples. All the colors were because of her, because of how she made me feel. My heart squeezed like a vice. Painful with a feeling so new, so wonderful, it enveloped my entire body.

  “I need to kiss you.”

  I kept kneading her breast, and when my mouth found hers, her velvety soft tongue thrust softly against mine. Her hands continued their trek under my shirt and up my abs, making me break away for a second so I could pull it over my head. Every second I wasn’t touching her was a second wasted. She did the same, taking her shirt off, revealing those perfect tits.

  I kissed her again. I couldn’t stop kissing her. But the second I saw the goosebumps on her bare flesh, I broke away and lowered my head, lapping at one perfect nipple. She arched forward, and I pressed one hand against her back, pulling her closer to my eager mouth. I sucked on her nipples, taking long pulls and lashing my tongue.

  When I came back to her lips, I pushed my cock against her and wondered why the hell we weren’t naked. She dove for my pants, desperately working the buttons, but I gripped the back of her neck, taking control, and pulled her lips back to mine, making her hands stop their feverish pursuit and grip my shoulders. I wasn’t in any state to appreciate her flushed skin or her soft curves. The only thing that mattered was getting her closer.