by Jill Shalvis
“A mistake,” she said. “You were collateral damage, and I’m so very sorry, Max.”
He got that. He appreciated that. But the past was the past and he had some things to say too. “Listen, I was a teenage jerk and I thought the world revolved around me. It never occurred to me that you were in trouble, that you weren’t even targeting me. I was that self-absorbed, and I hate that.”
She started to shake her head and say something more but he covered her lips with a finger. He needed to finish, to get this out, because he was realizing a couple of things. He’d wronged her in much the same way everyone else in her life had, and that was a hard pill to swallow because he prided himself on always trying to do the right thing. “You’re done apologizing to me,” he said. “I was a complete dick about it earlier, but I was wrong. Then and now.”
“Max—”
He applied gentle pressure on her mouth. “There’s nothing to forgive, okay? You were only doing what you had to to get through and I get it. Now it’s my turn to apologize to you.”
This startled her into silence. He smiled, his fingers stroking her jaw while his thumb rasped over her lower lip. “I should have listened to you. But also I should’ve known there was more to the story. I should’ve asked you, but maybe it’s better that we waited because we’re old now and . . . ” He stopped to smile when she choked out a laugh. “And with all this dubious maturing I’ve realized something.”
She sucked in a breath and lifted her worried gaze to his. “What?”
With a slight shake of his head, he bent a little and brushed his mouth over hers. “There’s something I want.”
“Another kiss?” she asked, her voice a hopeful whisper that made his chest both swell and ache at the same time.
“Yes,” he said. “But more.”
“A bunch of kisses?”
At the hint of laughter in her voice, he smiled. She’d relaxed and was teasing him. “More,” he said softly.
She blinked. “You . . . want to sleep with me?”
“Oh yes,” he breathed, pulling her in. “I want that, Rory. And I want it bad too. But still more.”
“I . . . don’t understand.”
“I want something between us.”
She froze. “Like . . . a condom?”
He laughed and pressed his forehead to hers. He kept thinking about what his sister said, about him giving the next woman he felt something for a shot. A real shot. He really hated to ever admit Cass might have been onto something, but he honestly had never felt this way about another woman before. “A relationship,” he said and watched her mouth fall open.
“I— You—” She gulped in air. “With me?”
Now they were on the same page. A damn long time coming too. “Yes,” he said and kissed her, liking the way she melted into him as if her body was way ahead of her brain at this point. “You in?”
She stared up at him. “I’m not very good at relationships,” she said very seriously.
“Says who?”
This seemed to stymie her. “Every guy I’ve ever dated?”
“Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys.” He rubbed his jaw to hers. “Take a chance, Rory. Take the risk.”
Her hands came up to his face, her fingers slipping into his hair, and it felt so good he tightened his grip on her.
“I’ve got a bad track record with the people in my life,” she said quietly and shook her head when he started to speak. “No, you know it’s true. I’m not a good bet, Max. In fact, I’m a really bad one.”
That she absolutely believed this broke his heart. She’d survived a shitty childhood and then a rough stint on her own in San Francisco. But she had survived, even thrived. And then there was how she’d handled tonight and all the storm had thrown at them without blinking an eye.
And yet this, with him—which should’ve been one of the easier things in her life—scared the hell out of her.
“You need to believe me on this,” she said, backing free of him. “I’m not built that way, I’m not good at relationships. I’m not good at letting people in and keeping them. I don’t know how.”
He caught her and reeled her panicking body in. “It’s okay,” he said very gently, cupping her face, tilting it to his to make sure she heard him. “Because I do.”
While she continued to stare up at him, he lowered his head and gave her a soft kiss. And then a not-so-soft kiss that he seemed to have trouble tearing himself free of. “You have no idea, do you,” he murmured, “why I bring Carl in every week to get groomed. And it’s not because he needs it. It’s because we’ve both got it bad for you. We use all available opportunities as an excuse to see you.”
She choked out a surprised laugh. “That is a costly way to do it.”
He laughed. “I know. Do you trust me, Rory?”
“Yes,” she said without a beat of hesitation.
“I wanted to drive you here,” he said. “I wanted any reason at all to spend time with you. I’m serious about you, and if I’m being honest, that’s been building for a long time.”
He could tell by the look on her face that she was serious about him too, scared to death or not.
“I think about you,” he told her.
She shook her head. “When? When do you think about me?”
“When I’m sleeping. And working. And not working.” He stopped to take in her smile. “You’re the one for me, Rory. And I think you feel the same way about me.”
She could’ve lied her way out of that if she wanted. He knew she had the skills. But she didn’t. Holding his gaze in hers, she backed him to the bed and then, still holding eye contact, gave him a shove to his chest that had him dropping to the mattress.
He laughed but that laughter stuck in his throat when she got on the bed and slowly climbed up his body, letting him feel her, all of her, and with a groan he began to wrap her up tight in her arms and—
That’s when they were jumped by 150 pounds of dog wanting to get in on the fun, panting dog breath in their faces, making Rory laugh.
Max loved the sound and smiled at her as he reared up to kiss her, having to reach around Carl, but Rory stopped him with a hand to his chest.
He stilled. “Problem?” he asked. “Other than the heavyweight road block named Carl?”
At the sound of his name, Carl barked, excited they were finally having all the fun.
“I think maybe he’s trying to tell us something,” Rory said.
“Like?”
“Like . . . like maybe we’re moving too fast.”
“I don’t think Carl’s that deep of a thinker,” he said. “Down.”
Rory started to shift but he gripped her and with a laugh said, “Carl. Carl, down. You stay.”
Carl promptly rolled onto his back on the bed, taking up nearly the entire thing and showing off all his bits as he did.
“Well, you did say down,” Rory pointed out. “He listens. He laid down. What a good boy,” she said to his dog. “Are you a good boy, Carl?”
Carl’s tail thumped the bed staccato style.
Max pointed to the floor.
Carl hefted out a sigh and slunk off the mattress. Slowly. One long leg at a time, with a look back at Max as each limb hit the floor like he was hoping he’d change his mind.
Max didn’t. Instead, he tucked Rory beneath him, entwined his fingers in hers, and slowly slid their hands over her head as he lowered his.
“So,” he said. “Where were we?”
Chapter Nine
RORY STARED UP at Max, mesmerized by the warm look in his eyes. “I think you were about to rock my world,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Was I?”
Her heart sped up. God, he had a gorgeous smile. “I hope so,” she said fervently.
He pulled her sweater slowly over her head. It fell to the floor and she heard him suck in a breath, which was reassuring in a sexy, “ohmigod this is happening” way because it meant she did it for him every bit as m
uch as he did it for her.
Pressing herself up against the long, leanly muscled body she’d been dreaming about for ages, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his throat. He smelled amazing and, needing to know if he tasted amazing as well, she took a little nibble.
He growled low in his throat at that and tipped her chin up. “Tell me you’re in this, Rory.”
If she was any more in, she’d be drowning. “I’m in this.”
He stared into her eyes for a beat as if searching for the truth in that statement, but she’d never been so honest with anyone in her life. “I want you, Max. I always have.”
That had a fierce light blazing from his intense eyes and then he claimed her mouth. She loved that he wasn’t gentle with her. She didn’t need or want that, and she moaned when he kissed her hard and hot and hungry all at once. And then he was busy divesting her of the rest of her clothing until she was bared to him. With a shaky breath he took her in, and when that made her shift uncomfortably, he caught her hands and bent to press his mouth to the throbbing pulse at the base of her neck, slowly working his way south.
“Soft,” he murmured. “So soft. Sweet too.”
She managed a laugh.
He lifted his head, eyes crinkled in amusement. “What?”
“No one’s ever called me sweet before.”
“Well, you do hide it well,” he said demurely, making her snort. He flicked a tongue across her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth, leaving her a trembling wreck. He moved south then, taking his sweet-ass time too, nipping her just beneath her belly button, her hip. “You’ll stop me if there’s anything you don’t like,” he said.
“At the moment, I’m more likely to beg you to keep going.”
He smiled. “Like the sound of that too.” His big hands urged her legs to part, and he lowered his head and rubbed his stubbly jaw against her inner thigh while she squirmed and wriggled.
He simply tightened his grip on her, holding her still while he turned his head and worked her other inner thigh, and then finally, finally he found a new target, the perfect spot, her holy grail spot . . . without so much as a road map or directions.
Before she could marvel over this, she was gone. Lost in wave after wave of sensation that robbed her of her senses while she burst apart at the seams.
When she surfaced back to reality, he’d located a condom from she had no idea where, but she was grateful. “Yes,” she said. “Please, yes.”
His gaze riveted on hers, his mouth curved as he kissed her. “Love the ‘please,’ ” he murmured, voice sexy, low and rough. “Feel free to give me more of that.”
She was laughing as he slid home but the laughter backed up in her throat, turning into a moan. Helplessly she arched into him, filled to bursting as he claimed her mouth again.
And then he began to move and claimed her body as well, taking her to a place she’d never been before. When they both fell apart, shuddering in each other’s arms, Rory couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t get it together.
She didn’t have to. He held her for a long time after, rolling onto his back, taking her with him so that she was plastered all over him, a tangle of limbs. His arms remained tight around her, one hand gliding slowly up and down her back, occasionally stopping to squeeze her ass.
It made her smile and her heart sigh. She fell asleep like that, more content then she could ever remember feeling, thinking if only Christmas could end right here, it’d be perfect.
RORY OPENED HER eyes to find Max standing over her with a steaming cup in his hand and a sexy, knowing smile on his face.
He’d spent the past few hours rocking her world and he damn well knew it. It’d been . . . amazing, but now she was short of sleep and felt like roadkill. Probably looked like it too.
But not Max. Nope, he had the nerve to look reenergized and perfect.
With a groan, Rory rolled over and planted her face in the pillow.
“Mmm,” he murmured huskily in her ear, clearly taking her new position as an invitation. “Later, if you’re really, really good.” And then he lightly smacked her ass. “Rise and shine, princess.”
She gave him a kick but missed by a mile because he had reflexes like a cat.
He merely laughed and set the steaming cup by the bed. “A real morning person, I see.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re more fun when you’re not talking?” she muttered, muffled by the pillow.
He laughed again, telling her that he was a morning person, which meant she might have to kill him.
“We’ve gotta go,” he said.
With a gasp, she sat right up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “It’s morning?”
“Almost. But I wanted to talk to you before we go.”
Oh boy. A talk. In her experience, nothing good ever came out of a talk, and she flopped back into her facedown position.
His hand was on her ass again, squeezing now. “Of course, there’re other ways to get your attention . . . ”
Not before she at least brushed her teeth, there wasn’t. She rolled onto her back to tell him so but he was there, right there, leaning over her, easily taking control of the sheet, tugging it southward.
“Okay, okay, I’m listening!” she claimed, tightening her tenuous grip on it.
But the sheet still slid south, with Max watching from warm, sexy, hooded eyes as she was revealed to him inch by inch until the sheet rested just below her hips.
Leaving her bare-ass naked on the bed.
With a squeak, she reached for the covers, but with a grin, he held them out of her reach, heavy sexual intent in his gaze.
Carl, mistaking the commotion as fun time, jumped up with a bark.
“Sorry, buddy,” Max said. “She’s all mine.”
The words should’ve annoyed the hell out of Rory; instead they gave her a hot rush. All his . . .
Nudging the dog aside and dropping the sheet onto the floor, Max snatched Rory and pulled her in.
He was dressed. He smelled fresh and clean and his hair was wet.
The day had started without her.
“I don’t do talks while naked,” she managed, once again trying to reach for the covers.
Max leaned in a little further, taking hold of her wrists, sliding them up the bed, alongside of her head. “Let me offer an incentive.” He kissed her, starting with the lightest brush of lips against hers but working up both the pressure and the heat. When he finally pulled back, she wasn’t the only one trying to catch her breath. She’d forgotten her rush, and the fact that she hadn’t brushed her teeth; she forgot everything but him and had turned her wrists so that her hands clasped his hard enough for her nails to leave marks on him.
Straightening, he took a slow, deep breath and let it out, making her realize with some shock and a lot of female pride that he was just as affected as she. “I just wanted to make sure you understand my intentions,” he said. “And what I want.”
She snorted and rocked against a most impressive erection. “I think I know what you want.”
He didn’t smile. Not even a twitch of his lips. Instead, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite catch.
“What I want,” he said, “is significantly more than a road trip from hell and a quick relief of some fairly serious sexual tension.”
She stared at him. “You mean the relationship you mentioned last night.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
His gaze never left hers. “Until we don’t want each other anymore.”
She couldn’t even imagine not wanting him, and his lips twitched like he could read her mind. Leaning in again, he pressed his mouth to the spot between her breasts.
