by Layla Hagen
“I started a thing?” I whisper to Max. “I’m so proud of myself right now.”
Max places an arm around my shoulders as he delves into a talk with Blake, who sits on the other side. I smile, soaking in his warmth and the energy and happiness floating in the room. A while later Eric and Pippa give us a tour of the house, which is as impressive as I imagined when I first saw it from the outside.
“I still can’t believe you’re a painter,” I tell Summer honestly as Max and I are preparing to leave. Summer and I are outside, a few feet in front of the door, while everyone else is still inside. She’s showing me photos of her latest creations on her phone. “They are amazing. I especially like this one. The sunflowers are gorgeous.”
“You can have it. Tell me your address and I’ll send it tomorrow.”
“I couldn’t. I’m sure you sell them for a lot of money.”
“I always gift family and friends any paintings they like,” Summer says sweetly. “If you don’t tell me your address, I’ll ask Max.”
My eyes widen. “I see the bossy trait runs in the family.”
“That it does,” Max booms behind us. Grinning, I swirl around on my heels and place my palms low on his chest. Unable to help myself, I allow my hands to roam up to his neck, my body humming at his nearness, at feeling his hard muscles beneath my fingers. I’m about to give him a quick peck on the lips when I register the color of his shirt: dark green. Max was wearing a black one. I freeze on the spot. Raising my gaze, I notice the slightly shorter haircut. Oh, no, no, no.
With a trembling voice, I ask, “Is there any chance you changed your shirt and got a haircut in the span of five minutes, Max?”
“Wrong brother, sweetheart. But don’t stop on account of that. My brother owes me. Still have to kiss his girl once to get even. Feel free to continue to feel me up. I was enjoying it.”
“Christopher,” Summer says briskly. “Not funny.”
I’d forgotten she was here. Stepping back, I drag my hands down my face. I can’t believe I almost kissed my boyfriend’s twin brother. I’ve never felt more ashamed in my life.
“What’s going on?” The voice belongs to Max himself, and he sounds pissed. Rightfully so. I stare at a spot on the floor, unable to meet his gaze just now.
“You just interrupted a near-make-out session,” Christopher informs him. Nudging me with his elbow, he says, “If he annoys you too much, you can always dump him and take me instead.”
After the awkward moment passes, Max and I bid Christopher and Summer good-bye and walk to the car in silence.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur once we’re inside his car. Instead of gunning the engine, Max slips his thumb under my chin, lifting it.
“Look at me,” he says in a soft voice. Biting my lower lip, I do as he says.
“It took me a while to realize it’s him.” The second I utter the words, I want to take them back.
Max groans. “I’m gonna punch that little fucker.”
“No, you’re not. He’s your brother. You can’t be jealous of him.”
“I’m jealous of my own damn shadow when it comes to you, Emilia.” His gaze is so intense, I swear it has the power to set every cell in my body ablaze. “You are mine.”
I nod, licking my lips. He follows the gesture with his eyes, dragging his thumb across my mouth. “Your mouth is mine.” His hand drops to my waist, reaching between my legs. “Your body is mine. Everything.”
“Everything,” I agree. Max claims my mouth, turning my knees weak with the power of his kiss. Energy zaps through me and our surroundings blur as my entire being focuses on the spot where our lips touch.
“Someone’s naughty,” Max says when we come up for air. One look down reveals that my nipples are showing through my flimsy dress.
“It’s your fault.”
“Because I’m so irresistible?”
Grinning, I decide to tease him now that we’ve put the critical moment behind us. “Because you brought me into a house full of sexy men. There are some incredible genes in your family. Your brothers are all panty-dropping gorgeous. Especially Christopher.”
“Really?” he deadpans, his eyes serious. God, riling him up is such fun.
“Hmm. I have a hard time deciding which one of you is hotter.”
“You’re too naughty for your own good.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing you can do about it tonight.” We agreed that he’ll drive me home, but won’t stay the night, because he has a very early meeting tomorrow morning. But he’ll stay at my house tomorrow and Saturday. I sense I’ll get plenty of payback for teasing him.
“Wait until tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Emilia
“Thank you for coming to our house on a Friday evening,” I tell the neurologist the next evening as he steps inside.
He shakes hands with Max, Grams, and me and then the four of us walk to the living room. Once we’re seated, he focuses on Grams, who is very much herself right now.
He goes into detail about Grams’s medication. We see her usual doctor about every two months, because as the disease progresses, some of the pills lose their effectiveness or the goal of the treatment shifts.
The most heartbreaking part of every visit though, is reading out loud the List. Grams writes on a piece of paper every single thing she feels has worsened in her mental health since the last visit to the doctor. I keep a list of my own.
“And last week,” Grams concludes, “I got lost in my own damn house.”
I bite down on my lip, my eyes stinging. The doctor watches Grams with kind, warm eyes, nodding.
“How long until I completely lose my mind?” she asks him bluntly. I startle in my chair, and Max, who sits next to me, puts his palm at the small of my back. The reassuring gesture is exactly what I need to keep strong.
“Mrs. Campbell,” the doctor tells her gently, “every patient is different. The new medication should help mitigate some aspects, such as the headaches you told me about.”
But it won’t help you not get lost in your own house.
He doesn’t say the words out loud, but they hang in the air like a thick fog. After writing down the prescription for her new set of pills and giving us some more helpful pointers, he leaves. Max walks him to the door, while Grams and I remain seated in the living room, the usual sadness that follows a doctor visit rearing its ugly head again.
We order some pizza, and I can’t take my eyes off Grams during dinner. She is lost in thoughts, and I’m convinced she’s slipped away from us when she surprises me. “Emilia, any news on finding your father?”
Sucking in a deep breath, I swallow the last bite. “The detective is trying to locate him. I’ll let you know as soon as I have a definite answer.”
“Thank you for doing this. Both of you.” She looks at Max and me with adoration before returning to her dinner. After she’s done, Grams excuses herself, saying she wants to go to bed early.
Once we’re alone, Max and I move to the couch, and he pulls me in his arms.
“That was rough,” he murmurs.
“Yeah. I think the worst is knowing what’s coming and not being able to stop it. I don’t even know how to comfort Grams anymore.”
“You’re doing a great job just being here for her.” Pushing a strand of hair away from my face, he adds, “And wanting to find your father for her. You’re amazing.”
My insides tighten, fear clouding my thoughts. “Let’s hope that’ll turn out okay.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. It’ll just put me in a bad mood, and it’s not going to help anyway. I guess until I meet him, it’s not worth fretting about it. My plan is to actually fly wherever my father is and meet with him before telling Grams anything. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case things go wrong. I hope they don’t.” With a sigh, I add, “Thank you for being here tonight.”
“Anything you need, Emilia. I mean it.”
I lay my hea
d against his chest, playing with my fingers around the buttons of his shirt. “Can you tell what I need now?” I ask playfully.
“A distraction,” he says without missing a beat. “Which I am more than happy to provide.”
Without warning, he stands, lifting me in his arms. We’re quiet as he carries me to the bedroom, but I manage to sneak my hand between our bodies and cup his already hard length with my hand.
“I’ll show you.”
Carefully placing my feet on the floor once we’re in my bedroom, Max runs his hand through my hair, twirling a strand around his fingers.
“You’ve become quite the little vixen,” he says.
I look him up and down, notice the thin trickle of sweat on his forehead, the desire in his eyes. “I like the effect that has on you.”
In a fraction of a second, he hooks an arm around my waist and hoists me up against the wall.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers against my skin, his low and husky voice raising goose bumps on my neck. He slips his fingers under one of my straps, pulling it down my shoulder, baring my skin to him. Stepping closer into my space, he dips his head, feathering his lips on my shoulder. Moaning, I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access as he brings his lips to my neck, ascending to my ear. Every inch of me clamors to be touched, kissed… loved by this beautiful man who is claiming more of me with every word and every look.
My hands find the hem of his shirt, slip under it, and feel up his gorgeous abs.
“Greedy girl.”
“Always. I’ll always be greedy for you.”
He nudges my legs open with his knee, his hand already undoing the zipper at my back, pushing my dress down my arms. The fabric falls to my feet, leaving me naked and exposed.
“Look at you, all beautiful and ready.” He looks me up and down with a hunger that sends a jolt right through my center. He doesn’t even have to touch me. His gaze is all I need to be on fire. “What should I do with you?”
“As long as we can keep quiet, whatever you want.” My own voice is breathy and needy.
“Dangerous words, love.” He smiles devilishly before grabbing both my wrists with one hand and pinning them above me, leaving me defenseless. But if there is any man I want to be defenseless with, it is him.
“You’d better make good on your promise.”
He kisses me like a man possessed, swiping his tongue over my lips before dipping it in my mouth and exploring me until I’m trembling in his arms.
Instead of continuing with his delicious kisses, he steps back, scrutinizing me with those mesmerizing eyes of his.
“What are you doing?” I complain, pouting.
“Deciding which way to make love to you tonight.”
Wow. That was incredibly sweet and hot.
“What are the options?” I work to make my voice as neutral as possible, but I don’t fool him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I don’t get a say in it?”
“Nope.”
Right. Time to gain a little more control over the situation. Closing the distance between us, I undo the top few buttons of his shirt, planting a kiss after popping open each new one.
“What if I want you to do all of those dirty things going on in your mind?”
“Feisty.” His voice is low, and I detect a hint of a shake in it.
“You bring out a side in me I didn’t know I had,” I say honestly.
“Back at you, Emilia.”
His thumb touches my lip from one corner to the other, and then he does the same with his tongue. Sealing his lips over mine, Max grips one of my thighs, grazing it with his nails. He needs me just as badly as I need him. His hand descends to my ass, cupping my cheeks and pressing me against him. I moan as I feel how hard and ready he is for me.
“Max…,” I whisper.
“Fuck, I need you.”
I turn to putty in his hands as we remove each other’s remaining clothes at lightning speed.
“Sit on the bed,” he instructs, which I do. Watching his erection in front of me is too tempting. I wrap my hand around it and swipe my tongue once over the head. Max lets out a deep groan, gripping my hair with one hand.
“Fuck, that is sexy,” he says on a moan as I take him in my mouth as deep as I can. “You’re sexy, Emilia.”
Unhitching my lips from him, I crawl backward on the bed, keeping my eyes trained on him.
He leans over me, his hand sliding down between my thighs.
“You’re so wet and beautiful, Emilia. I could come just from watching you.”
But he’s not just watching me. His palm is wrapped around his erection, moving up and down. He presses the thumb of his other hand on my clit, circling the bundle of nerves. Watching him please us both is possibly the most erotic moment of my life. Need splinters me, making me ache for him to the point where it’s almost painful. He places my feet on his shoulders, lowering himself until his beautiful face is level with my center. Without unhitching his thumb from my clit, Max dips his tongue inside me once.
I swallow a moan, flattening my back against the bed, pushing my hips forward. When he dips his tongue again, I’m positive I’m one second away from making love to his face. His expert mouth feasts on my swollen flesh, nipping and lashing until I am ripe for him. My fingers find the soft curls of his hair and I tug at them gently, greedy for more of him.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Inside me. Please.”
He straightens up, retrieving a condom from my nightstand. Holding my gaze, he sheaths the condom over his erection. He pushes his length across my folds, touching my clit in the process. My thighs quiver, an unbearable tension forming in my center. Unable to wait any more, I push myself up, gripping the base of his erection and positioning it at my entrance.
“Taking control. I like this.” Max enters me in one swift move, pushing in so hard, he sends me into a tailspin. My inner muscles instinctively clench against him.
“Max. So deep.” I bite down on my lips, stopping the incoherent string of words.
“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”
Max runs his hands up and down my legs while moving faster and faster. I won’t last long, and neither will he.
“Touch yourself,” he commands. I lower my hand to my clit, all shame or restraint forgotten. I move my hand at a frantic pace, feeling pressure building inside me.
“This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I writhe and moan, begging for my release as my climax builds inside me. Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I increase the pace of my fingers, just as Max increases the speed of his thrusts. Every thrust brings me closer to the edge. When my orgasm finally engulfs me, I swallow my cry of pleasure, his name on my lips.
***
Max
The next morning I wake up before Emilia. She is sprawled on the bed, her leg swung over me. For a brief second, I consider waking her up and giving her a quiet orgasm instead of a “good morning,” but that would be selfish. She is peaceful and beautiful in her sleep, and all I can do is look at her and wonder how it can feel so right to have her here with me. What was I doing before? How could I have known she existed and not gone after her? She wrinkles her nose in her sleep, pushing a rebel strand of hair off her face, and I can’t resist placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. She’s just too damn cute. She wrinkles her lips this time, then turns her head in the other direction. The message is clear: no morning sex. Yet.
I leave the room as quietly as possible, heading to the living room. Grams is nowhere to be seen, so I assume she’s still sleeping. I’m about to go off and buy breakfast when I remember that Emilia actually cooks, so she might have breakfast food already.
An idea strikes me while opening the fridge. Grams and my girl love pancakes, and I bet they have the ingredients for it. I’ll be the first to admit that I lack in romantic ideas, but I’d bet Emilia would love it if I made her some pancakes. How difficult can it be to make them?
/> I search for a recipe on the Internet, and then get to work. Twenty minutes later, I realize that making pancakes is not as easy as it seems. The pan looks like I can throw it away, the resulting pancakes are nothing more than burned shreds, and I cannot figure out where it all went wrong for the life of me.
Groaning, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Alice’s number.
“Morning, little brother,” she answers, her tone chipper as usual.
“Hey. So, I need some help. I made pancakes and ended up with a burned pan. Not to mention the contents looks like someone ate it up and threw it up.”
“Eww. Thanks for the visual. You’re making pancakes? Why?” After a brief pause, she squeals into the phone, nearly deafening me. “You’re making them for Emilia?”
“Yep. Just tell me what to do. How do I fix this?”
“I can’t believe you negotiate million-dollar deals for Bennett Enterprises but can’t make pancakes.”
“No one’s perfect,” I deadpan. “I should’ve called Summer.”
“I’m not sure she knows about pancakes.”
“Yeah, I thought so too, which is why I ended up calling you.” I try to scrub the thick, black crust off the pan, but it sticks to it like glue. Definitely belongs in the trash. I’ll buy them a brand-new one.
“Always lovely to hear I’m not your first choice.”
“Alice,” I say in a warning tone.
“Right, you want to know what to do.”
“Yeah.”
“One: clean up. Two: go buy some pancakes.”
“Your faith in me is astounding.” Looking at the mess in front of me, I say, “But you’re right. Thanks.”
After the line goes static, I clean up the crime scene, get dressed, and venture out to buy half a dozen pancakes. When I reenter the house, I find Emilia awake and in the kitchen.
“Keep your voice low,” she says. “Grams is still sleeping.”
“Stop whatever you’re doing,” I tell her. “I bought breakfast.”
