Max Page 24


The question is . . . does he want it tonight? Max has deliberately taken things slow with me, which I find refreshing and endearing. It’s also frustrating too, and I’m thinking I might be the one that has to let him know it’s okay to move this to the next level.

I push up on the couch, dislodging Max’s fingers from my hair. He watches me as I come to my knees on the cushion beside him, my palms resting on my thighs. He’s so goddamn sexy but unassuming, which makes him sexier in my mind.

“Want to watch another movie?” he asks.

I shake my head. “It’s getting late.”

“Want me to take you home?” he asks with a smile, his eyes warm and open, without a hint as to what he wants.

I shake my head again.

“What do you want to do?” he asks, and there . . . right there. I hear it. His voice is low and rumbling with need.

Still, I don’t want to assume anything.

“Want to make out?” I ask him with a grin.

“Fuck yeah,” he says with an answering grin and then his hands are on my wrists and he’s pulling me on top of him.

I willingly go, walking my knees across the small expanse of cushion, and then his hands go to my hips and he helps me maneuver onto his lap in a straddle. My hands go to his shoulders and I look down at him. His hazel eyes are darkening as he looks at me intensely, and there’s no mistaking the desire I see there.

I move my hands from his shoulders to his face, palms against each cheek, and I lower my mouth down to his. At the first touch of our lips, Max’s fingers press into my hips and I moan as I push my hands back and slip my fingers into his hair. Our heads tilt, the kiss deepens, and when his tongue slides against mine, a bolt of lust seizes my body and an ache starts between my legs.

Max slides one hand under my shirt and smooths his large palm up my spine. I press into him, my arms now wrapping around his neck, overlapping each other, and I lower myself down onto his lap.

Oh, wow. Onto his fully hard erection.

Max groans as I tilt my hips and rub against him, the friction igniting a fire low in my belly. This spurs me on and I rotate my hips, grinding against him while his mouth assaults mine.

But then Max’s hands are on my upper arms and he’s pushing back on me so the kiss breaks. His eyes are wild and his nostrils are flared as he sucks in oxygen, and my own heartbeat is racing away from me. I frown and try to lean back in for a kiss, wanting to take this connection further than we ever have before.

“Jules,” Max mutters as he holds me firmly in place. I focus my gaze on him and tilt my head to the side in question. “I didn’t bring you to my house for this.”

“I know,” I tell him softly. “You’d take me home right now if I asked you.”

“It’s our first date,” he explains. “We’ve got plenty of time to get there.”

I try to think how I should lay this out to him. While I appreciate his almost chivalrous attitude toward me, I also want him to know that I’m fairly forward thinking when it comes to sex. I’ve never believed you have to be in love to do it, but I do believe you should have a measure of care for the person.

What I feel for Max is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’m not sure there isn’t anything I wouldn’t give him.

I don’t know how to adequately convey that, so I let my hands talk for me. I drop them in between us, scoot back on his lap a few inches and start to undo his belt. I get the leather just cleared from the buckle when Max’s hands come to mine. They grip my fingers and halt my actions.

I look up to him.

“You get my jeans open,” he growls at me, “I’m not going to be able to stop. I’m not a saint, Jules.”

I smile at him, lean in and give him a light kiss. “You are a saint, Max. You’re an absolute saint. But right now . . . I’m completely fine with you sinning.”

Max takes just a millisecond to digest my words, then his lips peel apart in a bright grin. “So you want to sin with me, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say with a responding grin.

I let out a surprised gasp as Max lunges off the couch, his arms coming under my ass to support me and my arms flying to lock around his neck. He pushes past the coffee table, through the living room, and down a very short hall to what I’m guessing is the first floor master bedroom.

I just hang on for the ride.

Chapter 11

Max


Slow down, slow down, slow down.

Slow the fuck down, Max.

I am trying desperately not to turn all caveman on Jules as I carry her to my bedroom. I have never wanted someone as much as I want this woman, and unfortunately, that has about reduced me to someone with the mentality of a horny teenager about to bust a nut for the first time.

I wasn’t lying when I told Jules I had no expectations for tonight. I honestly didn’t know where we’d end up and I really didn’t care. I knew we’d get here eventually.

But the minute her hands touched my belt, I suddenly did care.

A lot.

And now I feel on the verge of losing control. It’s thrilling and terrifying at the same time, and I realize that Jules is the woman that could totally destroy me.

Barreling past my bedroom door, I take a slight turn to hit one of the wall switches with my elbow to the recessed lighting in the double tray ceiling. It casts a warm, ambient glow over the entire room.

I make a beeline for the bed, crawl up onto it with Jules clinging to me tightly and lay her underneath me. Taking a deep breath, I look down at her . . . needing to see in her eyes whether I still have the go ahead.

“You good?” I ask her.

“Better if you kiss me,” she whispers with a smile.

“The lady wants to be kissed,” I murmur as my gaze drops down to her mouth.

“Among other things,” she says tartly.

I raise my eyes back up to hers. “I’ll give you everything.”

Her response is to clamp her hands at the back of my neck and use me as leverage to pull herself up, slamming her mouth onto mine.

Fuck, yeah.

I push against her, press her head back onto my pillows and devour her mouth as I rest most of my body weight onto her. My hips come to rest perfectly against hers, my cock nestled right against the heat between her legs.

Jules moans and I grind against her.

She moans harder.

Fuck . . . stay cool, Max. Stay cool.

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