Redheaded Redemption (Redheads Book 2)

by Rebecca Royce

  Who slept together.

  We walked quietly, but it wasn’t awkward. Eventually, we arrived at what had to be the destination. I hadn’t even thought to ask him where we were headed. What did that even mean? It was a jazz club, and we entered through the basement. The smell of smoke outside wafted around us while Max tried to pay the cover charge for us to enter. He must come there a lot, because the bouncer refused his money and just let us inside instead. They shook hands like old friends, and I’d been right to think that I was walking into his world tonight.

  I’d never been to a place like this. It just wasn’t something that I did with my friends. Maybe, for all of our money, we were pretty uncultured. That was an interesting thought. I’d dwell on it later. I was going to have a lot of time to do that since, as of now, I had no jobs lined up, and I was probably, for all intents and purposes, done with my job. Out of work.

  It was always going to be temporary, which didn’t mean it didn’t burn a little bit in my gut.

  We sat toward the back of the room. “Normally, I prefer being closer, but I want to be able to whisper in your ear without bothering anybody. Are you hungry?”

  I was absolutely not. “Honestly, I’m still full from that decadent luncheon. I don’t think I could eat anymore.”

  He waved his hand at the passing waiter. It looked like the musicians were between sets, and they must want to distribute all the food and drink then.

  “Max,” the man who wore his bow tie askew greeted my date. I smiled at the thought. My date. Yep, that was what this was. “What can I get you two tonight? Great timing. Joe is playing. He’s killing it.”

  Greeting him as warmly, Max looked over at me before he answered. “I’m going to have a whisky. Neat. You know which one I want, if he has it. Bring me some peanuts or something to munch on. The lady will let you know what she wants.”

  I swallowed. This was exactly the kind of place where I wished I didn’t freeze at the idea of drinking alcohol. It would probably be fun to have one, but I wasn’t there yet. I might never be, and I had to be okay with that. I was here. That was really something. This place—I hadn’t even looked at the name because I’d been so consumed with Max—was outside of my comfort zone. I was sort of proud I’d made it through the door.

  “Do you have a ginger ale? If not, I can—”

  “On it,” he said, cutting me off, then hurried back to the bar.

  “So you’re still full? Really?”

  I placed my hand over my stomach. “Yes, very. It was so delicious.”

  “I didn’t ask you if you liked jazz.”

  No, he hadn’t, and it didn’t bother me at all. I loved it. Looking around, I couldn’t say that I’d ever been to a place where so many different types of people all gathered at the same time. All ages, all kinds of outfits. Everyone stared at the stage with expressions that said they enjoyed the sounds. One woman with long gray hair, that fell past her waist, drummed along with her fingertips, while her companion, a much younger man with burgundy hair, tapped his leg. The music started softly and then got louder.

  I turned my attention to the stage, watching the piano player intently. I might never choose to listen to jazz when I was alone, but I was perfectly happy to let it move around me, suck me in, and take all of my attention.

  If I closed my eyes, I might be able to make out one instrument from another, but I didn’t want that. No, I preferred to take it all in at once. It was loud and it almost shut off my brain, so I couldn’t do anything but be present in the moment and exist through it. I bit down on my lip. My thoughts were downright crazy. I was listening to music, not having a transcendental moment that would alter the shape of time.

  Still, I drifted through it, loving the power of the sounds and the people to change my mood entirely. Who knew? All this time, I should have been going to jazz clubs. Why wasn’t this a thing in my life? Why had I spent so much time worrying about things when I looked in the mirror? So what if I wasn’t Layla? Layla wasn’t Bridget, and Bridget wasn’t me. We were sisters, but just because we’d shared space in a uterus didn’t mean we had to spend the rest of our lives worried about how we compared to the others. And…

  Max squeezed my leg. His gaze focused on the stage. To me, he seemed almost casual, like he wasn’t thinking a million miles a minute because the sheer magnitude of the sound had cleared up the background noise of his own head. And there I go again.

  He leaned slightly toward me, tugging gently on the edge of my hair. I turned to look at him as he leaned over to whisper to me. “Do you like this? Or hate it? I should have asked. We can leave.”

  I shook my head. “I like it.”

  Even if it was doing something to me. Perhaps whatever that turned out to be was something that had to be done.

  The night was much quieter when we left. Well, maybe it was. Perhaps I had just lost some of my hearing, although I doubted that. Max raised his hand to call over my car. “Come home with me?”

  I leaned against his arm. “That wasn’t already implied?”

  His smile was huge. “Hope, I’m going to confess, I can’t always read you. Like, in there, I wasn’t sure if you were liking it or not.”

  “I did. I actually found it a fully unique experience.”

  He laughed as the car pulled up next to us. “See? I have no idea what that means.”

  “That’s a good thing, Max. I wouldn’t ever want to be boring.”

  His smile stayed right where it was. “That’s a good thing. I don’t think you could ever be boring.”

  He had no idea. If he spent any time in my head, he might understand how completely screwed up my thoughts were.

  Unlike the last time when we were in the car together, we didn’t get naked on the drive to his place. So far, I’d resisted thinking about what we shared in this same car, like I’d already put it into a box labeled did that really happen? somewhere inside my brain.

  But sitting next to him on the same seat made me fully cognizant of it. How he smelled—like sandalwood soap and something else that was just clean and purely Max—the way he moved, the way that he tilted his neck like he wanted to look at something closer. I’d seen him do that in the kitchen. When he really examined something, he had a particular way of moving his head.

  I could easily become fascinated with him.

  Oh hell, I probably already was.

  We arrived at his apartment, and I followed him inside. Like last time, it was almost like walking into another world when I entered his place. He threw his coat on a chair, and I gently placed the one he’d loaned me over it. I’d been wrapped in his scent all night.

  “Do you want—”

  I didn’t let him offer me something to drink or anything else. Instead, I practically threw myself into his arms. I’d had a taste in the car, and I wanted more. Also, it was better I not give my stupid anxiety too much time to rev up. Just because I’d had sex once and enjoyed it didn’t mean I couldn’t fall into a hole where I couldn’t again.

  I wanted him.

  He must have felt the same way because he picked me up against him and pushed me against the wall. I smiled against his lips. His kiss felt powerful, consuming, and spoke of ownership. My body buzzed with excitement. Turned out I really, really liked this.

  He pulled back to look at me. “Guess you’re not thirsty?”

  I shook my head and kissed him again. His smile told me he liked it as he carried me toward his bedroom. I met him, lips to lips. This time, I led and he followed. His body hardened against me.

  But then the dynamic changed. I couldn’t have said when it changed, but suddenly, he led the dance of our bodies. His tongue pushed between my lips, and I let him, melting into the power that was Max’s strong body. Right then, I might have sworn that there was nothing in the world that could get to me, not so long as I had Max’s arms around me and the soft mattress beneath my back.

  He rubbed a finger over the outside of my shirt. My hard nipple increased in pain,
and although I’d never have believed it, I loved the sensation. I arched my back to lift my breast closer to his hand. Max obliged me by squeezing the nipple that begged for his attention. Then he pulled my shirt over my head.

  “I want a good look at them. I’ve already been dreaming about them.”

  My cheeks heated at what he said, even if it was cheesy. Maybe I was a person who needed a good dose of cheese in my life. I kissed his chin. “Better take my bra off then.”

  Max scrunched up his face. “Is it one of those front clips?”

  It actually was. “Can I take from your expression that you don’t like them?” I did him the favor of detaching the clip so that he didn’t have to. I pulled my bra off and set it aside. The whole time, his eyes were on my breasts, watching them like he’d never seen a pair before.

  I smirked at him, because how could I not? “Do they hold up to your expectations?”

  “Hope, they are perfection.” He bent over to suck my nipple into his mouth, and I moaned. Oh, this was going to be too much. I didn’t imagine sex should be a rush, but I wanted more of this until we reached the end. Was that terrible? Wasn’t I supposed to crave foreplay? I didn’t guess it mattered right then.

  I reached between us. I was dressed from the waist down, and he was still fully clothed. With a tug, I indicated I wanted his shirt off.

  He complied, and I ran my hands over his strong chest.

  Max raised a dark eyebrow. “I know, I’m covered in scars. It’s not pretty.”

  I didn’t notice till he mentioned it. “We all have our scars. Max. Not one of us is perfect.”

  Some of us just hide our scars on the inside.

  I kissed him to stop thinking and ran my hands over his warm skin, loving it when his muscles jumped underneath my touch. I did that to him. There was power in the knowledge and in being the kind of person who could make Max need. I didn’t usually roll around in such a heady sensation, but I loved it and decided to let myself enjoy the moment while it lasted.

  I kissed his chin, and he did the same to me, which made me giggle. He grinned. It was nice not to be so serious. I had to find a way to keep this lighter in my head before I started equating sex with Max with some kind of life-altering, universe shattering occurrence. I had to stay in the here and now, and that was a beautiful place to be.

  I squirmed beneath him and pulled my pants off in an awkward way. He didn’t seem to notice as he laid kisses all over my face.

  But then he did that sexy thing again where he lifted one eyebrow while he looked at me. “In a hurry?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He shook his head, and a piece of his hair slowly fell over his eyes. “No. I want to savor every minute, but thanks for helping me get to where I wanted to be.”

  What did he mean by that if he wasn’t also in a hurry to reach completion? Maybe my confusion showed on my face because he winked at me. “If your previous lovers aren’t doing this with you, Hope, then they’ve been letting you down.”

  I still didn’t understand until he pulled my panties down with his teeth. I sucked in a breath. Okay, now I fully grasped the situation. Really? He wanted to do that? My friends always complained that their boyfriends didn’t go down on them, yet Max wanted to do it unprompted?

  “You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

  The act seemed more intimate than our time in the car, or even of us being joined inside me. His mouth on my pussy would be a whole different thing altogether, and I didn’t have time to consider really how I…

  “There’s no have to with me, beautiful. I tend to do just what I want, unless you don’t want me to, which is a whole different situation.”

  I swallowed. I kind of did want to know what it would feel like. Nodding, slowly, I hoped my game face was in place. Wow. I was really fucked up when it came to this stuff. Max furrowed his brow for a second.

  “If you don’t like it, tell me to stop. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.” He held my gaze. “I can’t explain how much I get off on knowing I’m making you wet for me. It works for me. Always has. And I think that it’ll be even hotter with you.”

  His mouth was on me then. I thought I wouldn’t like it, that I’d tell him to stop, but I did like it. I gasped, my hips rising, but his hand came down on me to hold me still. He licked me and then sucked. Oh yes, I liked the sucking. I liked that a lot. I closed my eyes. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape from this kind of pleasure. I couldn’t turn it off. I grabbed on to the black sheets of his bed, like they could center me in the world, but quickly found I couldn’t really hold on to them.

  Pent up energy building inside me suddenly ached for release. The tension built, but it wasn’t slow or gentle. I exploded around his tongue like a bomb. Unable to think, unable to even comprehend the fact that it was happening, I learned all at once that pleasure sometimes came with pain. Yet I loved it, craved that discomfort as much as the pleasure he gave me at the same time. I didn’t know if I could have explained it, if pressed.

  I hoped I never had to.

  Max lifted his head to regard me. “I love how fast you come for me. It’s such a gift.”

  I stroked my hand along his face, running my fingers through his hair. “Maybe you’re just gifted?”

  “And good for my ego too.”

  I leaned up on my elbows. “Come over here, and I’ll return the favor.”

  He shook his head. “I’d love that…another time. Right now, I want to be inside you, if that’s okay. You run this show, so to speak.”

  I swallowed. “I don’t have all that much experience giving blow jobs.” I wondered if everyone else out there practically choked on the words when they said it and hoped that I’d managed to fake being casual about it relatively well. I supposed I should tell him I had no experience. None. But that would undo the constant pretending I was doing, which now bordered on lying. Still, I wasn’t going to deal with any of that at the moment.

  He shook his head. “Not tonight, and I’m not worried about your inexperience. I have to tell you the truth—there is no such thing as a bad blow job, end of story. But it makes me beg the question, why are you with an old guy like me? Never mind. Don’t answer. I like you with me in this here and now.”

  I liked it too, so I kissed him before he yanked off the rest of his clothing. I’d seen his cock in the car, but I was getting a better look at it. It was long, thick, veined, and I was glad we’d done this once before so I didn’t have to wonder if it was going to fit. I still momentarily jarred at the thought. How funny. I was predictable in my anxiety, if nothing else.

  I reached out to touch him, cupping the top of his cock with my hand. He closed his eyes. “The things that you do to me. I mean, fuck.” He pushed my hand away and climbed on top of my body. “I can’t get over how you want me.”

  Why wouldn’t I? Had he looked in the mirror lately? Had he spent time talking to himself? Didn’t he understand his complete, overall appeal? Maybe one of Max’s most endearing qualities was that he really didn’t have the slightest idea how fucking sexy he was. Maybe he didn’t care? Either way, in a world of shallow, I loved his deep depths.

  I wanted him inside of me.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Condom?”

  He reached over me and opened his drawer, pulling one out. “Like before, will you open it for me?”

  His hands weren’t shaking. I took it from him. “You look pretty steady and capable to me.”

  “Sure, but I like watching you do it. Like watching you roll it on me. I didn’t get enough of a look in the car. Pretty please?”

  I laughed, most of my nerves vanishing. He was funny, and if he found anything lacking in me, I certainly couldn’t see it on his face. “Gladly.”

  “Oh and, Hope? You’ll have plenty of time to practice giving head with me if you want it.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Are you volunteering to be my guinea pig? For me to practice on you?” I licked my lips, not sure what had
come over me but going with it just the same. “What if I bite?”

  “What if I like that?”

  Now my hands shook. I tore open the condom package. “Do you?”

  “Maybe I do if you’re the one biting. I guess we’re both going to find out.”

  He pushed open my knees until I was as totally open to him as I’d been when he’d put his mouth on me. I sucked in my breath. “Max?”

  “You’re ready for me, Hope. And I want to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

  Chapter 12

  Max pushed inside of me, and I gasped at the sensation. Had I ever been this full? Had I thought this before? I didn’t even know. All I knew was that his big, strong body was on top of mine and his cock was inside of me. Neither of us had moved since he’d pushed gently inside. We breathed hard, staring at each other, our faces so close, we practically shared air without actually kissing. Our breaths came in unison. Maybe if I moved my hand to place it over his chest, I’d feel that his heart and mine beat together in that moment.

  Fuck, I was such a poet in my own head.

  I kissed him all over his face, everywhere I could reach. Out of curiosity, I put my hand over his heart to feel it beat. Like my own, it raced, but whether or not we were somehow synchronous, I had no idea. At this point, I just liked feeling it. He took my hand in his, keeping himself above me with one arm, and brought it to his mouth to kiss it before he let it go. His warm lips were practically imprinted on my skin.

  “You are so hot around me. I love being inside you, but I’ve got to move, beautiful. I’ve just got to.”

  I nodded. “Move.”

  He jerked his head in the smallest of movements before he jerked his cock inside of me. Slowly, ever so much so, he pulled out and then slid back in. Over and over. Each movement a stroke over my clit in a way that seemed to build up pressure. I closed my eyes to feel each stroke. Max stopped moving, which caused me to open my lids.