To the Max

by Annmarie McKenna

  “Time’s a wastin’,” she taunted, licking her lips and staring at his erection. She could certainly go for round two right where they were.

  “Fuck.”

  “You say that a lot. Care to put an action to the word?” She sidled back to him and kissed his open mouth.

  His hands cradled her face and angled her head right where he wanted her, then he took over the kiss. His tongue plunged deep. With the toe of her shoe, she pressed down on the crotch of his jeans and pushed them to the floor.

  Jordan broke the kiss and once again kneeled on the floor.

  “Jordan…” Max’s voice held a warning. Jordan chuckled and glanced up at him.

  “Relax, big guy. Just helping you out of your shoes and pants.”

  “Oh.” His shoulders slumped and she swore a look of disappointment flashed across his face.

  She smiled and bent to the task of unlacing his shoes, pulling them off his feet, followed by his socks, which he helped with by standing on one foot when needed, then yanked his jeans off too. That done, she jumped to her feet, grabbed the hem of his shirt and relieved him of it also, leaving him standing at her front door deliciously naked.

  A round, puckered scar on his right side, about bellybutton height, attracted her attention. Her fingertips reached for it as if uncontrolled. His hand wrapped around hers, keeping her from touching.

  “What happened?” It sure as hell looked nasty, whatever it was.

  Max brought her fingers to his lips and placed a soft kiss on each knuckle.

  “It’s old. Nothing to think about now.”

  She shrugged it off. “I’m all for thinking about other things.”

  “That’s good. Now get your ass in that bedroom of yours and strip.”

  Jordan sucked in a breath. Her nipples tightened against the silk of her bra. Though she’d decided to go it alone, away from the money and out of her parents’ clutches, at this precise moment in time she was never happier that she’d continued purchasing her expensive lingerie. Nipples against smooth, satiny silk versus nipples against cheap, discount cotton—silk won hands down.

  She turned and sashayed down the hall, looking back over her shoulder with the best come-fuck-me eyes she could muster.

  Max’s gaze narrowed and his cock bobbed before leading him like a man on a leash toward her.

  In her bedroom, she flicked on the light then stopped at the foot of the bed and surveyed the room. At least she hadn’t left it a complete disaster when she’d hastily refreshed and changed her outfit before heading to the bar earlier.

  “Didn’t I say to strip?”

  Jordan’s heart pounded and her pussy clenched. This was exactly what she’d wanted, right? With slow deliberation, she turned and began unbuttoning her shirt, letting him see each inch of skin uncovered as she did so. This time he licked his lips. She loved the way his nostrils flared and a tiny muscle ticked in his jaw.

  When she’d gotten her shirt all the way undone, it fell from her arms to the floor, and she reached for the button on her jeans. Two steps brought him into her personal space and a slap of his hand on her wrists wrenched the material from her hands.

  “I changed my mind. I want to do this part myself. After all, you divested me of mine.”

  “Whatever you say.” Whatever makes you get inside me that much quicker.

  Long, lean fingers of one hand dipped behind the waistband while the other hand lowered the zipper with a hiss. Then both hands went to the small of her back, delved beneath her panties and pushed the fabric of both materials over her rear end and down to her knees before he cupped her cheeks and squeezed. Hugging her close, he nibbled on her earlobe, drawing a ragged breath from her lungs. His cock nestled at her tummy when she wanted it lower. Time to take the bull by the horns.

  “Unless you plan on fucking my bellybutton, we need to be in a better position.”

  “Greedy imp.”

  “Hey, you already got some action. I’m the one still unsatisfied here.”

  Those long fingers wandered from the crack of her ass to the slick opening of her vagina and one, maybe two of them entered her. Her head dropped back and her eyes rolled.

  “Tight.” He half-growled, half-groaned the word in her ear.

  Imagine that. A couple years of sexual abstinence had made her a born-again virgin.

  His tongue licked a path up her neck and back down to the V at her throat. With his unoccupied hand, the one not currently making her heart race, Max bent her backward and suckled a nipple through the silk barrier.

  Holy freakin’ God.

  The upside-down view of her dresser reminded her of condoms. Did she have any in that drawer that weren’t dry and cracked from age? Did he have any? Was she destined not to get any nookie after all? The mere thought made her want to puke. Sheer bliss sat within reach and she might not achieve it.

  “Do you have a condom?” she blurted, still hanging upside down.

  He snickered. “Just one?” His fingers retreated from her pussy and she nearly whimpered.

  “Well. For starters.” At least. Two or three might be better.

  “I think I got us covered,” he whispered, moving to the other nipple.

  “Can you possibly do that without the bra in the way?”

  “I’m getting to it. Patience, kamikaze.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” She squeezed the back of his neck when he bit down gently on her nipple.

  “That damn bike.”

  She jerked her head up and stared at him. “But, wait. You called me that before you saw my bike.”

  For a split second she swore his eyes widened. “I saw you pull in to the parking lot of the bar. Kamikaze was the first thought that came to mind.”

  “Hmm. Well, you’re going to have to get over your insecurities about my bike.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  She nodded. “I would hate to think you think I’m a fragile little butterfly because that would mean you might hold back with me in this bed right here behind me and then I would have to hurt you, and while I’m not opposed to strangling the woman in the bathroom, I don’t want to hurt you before I’m done with you.”

  One of his eyebrows rose to an impressive height. He turned her and nudged her onto the bed, stripping off her jeans and panties as she went, leaving her only in the bra, wet circles from his mouth surrounding the taut buds.

  “You wanted to strangle someone?”

  He spread her legs apart, exposing her pussy, which she was sure glistened in the overhead light. He looked at her core like a starving tiger eyeing a fat water buffalo. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Yep.” He flicked the closure of the bra between her breasts and removed the offending item, then kneeled between her feet.

  His hot breath fanned over her pussy a second before his tongue touched her clit. Her feet didn’t quite reach the floor so she had nothing to brace herself against. Those fingers returned, stroking her channel, while his tongue flicked and lapped at the bundle of nerves, driving her insane.

  Jordan propped herself on her elbows and watched. His gaze caught and held hers, seeming to dare her to come. An outcome which was quickly approaching fruition. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come so soon. Normally she had to really work at what she knew would be her one and only release. Hell, sometimes after working it forever she still never came. Then it was time to bring on the fake. While some men didn’t give a rat’s ass if they got their woman off or not, there were a few out there whose ego got severely offended if they didn’t. She’d learned it was best to fake it either way if she didn’t come.

  Maximillian, however, seemed to be having no trouble bringing her clit great pleasure.

  Her thighs shook where she tried to grip the edge of the bed, and she dug her heels into the bedframe for a miniscule amount of leverage.

  Then his fingers touched something inside her, causing her back to arch and stars to flicker behind her eyelids. Had she ever actually
seen stars before? His mouth closed on her clit, sucking the tiny nub behind his teeth and biting ever so slightly. The small pressure was all it took for the lingering tingle of anticipation to explode into throb after throb of long-awaited ecstasy. This was what she’d hoped for. This and more.

  Max kissed her clit, sending a subsequent frisson of leftover orgasm through her, then moved up her body, pushing her farther back on the bed. He settled over her, his erection nestled against her pussy, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she’d ever waited so long to get back in the game.

  “You’re beautiful when you come.”

  Well, what could she say to that?

  “If I get up, do you promise to stay right here in this position until I get back?”

  She lifted her head, panicking with the idea he might run out on her before the big finale. It didn’t matter that she was done and wouldn’t likely see the stars again for another two or three years, she wanted to feel him inside her. “Where are you going?”

  Hadn’t she given him good head? Had she offended him somehow?

  “Condoms. In the jeans you stripped off me at the front door.”

  “Oh.”

  His mouth descended on hers, transferring her body’s taste to her lips. “Don’t move.”

  “Couldn’t if I tried.”

  “I heard that,” he called, disappearing into the dark hall of her apartment. “Son of bitch.”

  Jordan bucked upright. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stubbed my toe.”

  A crash sounded down the hall and another curse that sounded something like “fuck me” and “shit”. Jordan cringed and smiled at the same time.

  “I am so sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll replace it.” His voice carried down the length of the hall.

  She sort of doubted he’d be able to. If she was right about his vicinity, he’d probably knocked over the Tiffany stained-glass lamp she’d received as a house-warming gift from her best friend who couldn’t imagine Jordan living a life without all the things money could buy. It had fit so perfectly with the rest of her décor and getting rid of it would have hurt Phoebe’s feelings so she’d left it.

  “Don’t worry about it.” From her best friend or not, it was still only an object. Not important in the grand scheme of life. Certainly not as important as a best friend.

  Her mother wouldn’t agree, but then that’s one of the reasons Jordan had moved out of her parents’ smothering mansion and lifestyle to pursue her own dreams. Her owning a dance studio was definitely not in their plans. They wanted her to settle down with whomever they chose and become a high-society wife and mother with all the social status that entailed.

  No child of hers was going to grow up raised by a nanny and a tutor.

  Max’s grumbling grew closer as did her renewed interest in what her very near future held.

  And then the whole place went dark.

  “What the hell?”

  “Max?” Jordan sat up.

  “Your lights went out.”

  She giggled. “I can see that. Come back to bed.”

  “Let me check this out first.”

  “Don’t bother. It’s happened several times before. Something about the breaker. I can fix it later. Much later…”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Max.”

  “Fine. Talk to me so I can find you in this tomb.”

  She tried for her sexiest voice. “I’m over here, Max.” She even pouted and batted her eyelashes, though the effect was lost since he couldn’t see her.

  The bed shook and Max cursed again. “Son of a bit—”

  “Get down here before you mangle yourself or break something else.”

  “Jesus. I really am sorry. I’ll replace it, I promise.”

  Great. Now she’d have to find some cheap knock-off brand so he wouldn’t feel guilty about breaking the lamp she really didn’t put much monetary value on anyway. It was pretty, yes, but people meant more to her than things any day.

  She wondered for a split second how Max viewed relationships, then shook her head of the notion. One night was all she was likely to get from Maximillian. She didn’t even know his last name, for chrissake. Then again, he didn’t know hers either. And since she didn’t go by her real last name, he wouldn’t know her from any other Jane Doe. “There’s only one thing I want from you, Max.”

  “Pushy.”

  “That’s right. Now, can you see to get that condom on or do you need some help?”

  “Please tell me you’re not serious,” he groused.

  “Only trying to be of service.” And she was practically dying waiting on him.

  “I’ll show you service.”

  Oh, please do. Please!

  The bed dipped between her legs and Max fitted his body on top of hers, the head of his cock snuggling right where she wanted it to.

  “Yes.” She threw her head back and begged him to thrust into her.

  “I’ll go as slow as I want, kamikaze.”

  The tip of his erection penetrated her opening. His arms came down on either side of her shoulders to hold his weight, which caused the smattering of his chest hair to tickle her nipples.

  Max’s hips flexed, filling more of her with his cock. Jordan bent her knees and squeezed her thighs against his waist.

  “You’re killing me, Jordan.”

  “Yes I will if you don’t start fucking me, Max.”

  He thrust forward, impaling her on his hard length, making her gasp at the sudden fullness and the slight pain.

  “Breathe, Jordan.” His thumbs traced a line down either side of her face. She hadn’t even known she wasn’t breathing.

  The air left her lungs with a whoosh.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  She shook her head, then realized he couldn’t see her. “No.”

  “Good.” He withdrew, the action setting off a riot of sensation in her pussy and unbelievably making her clit tingle again as if it were revving up for another climax. Impossible, she knew, but she wasn’t about to argue when it felt so damn good.

  In and out he thrust. She’d never felt so high from sex. Like it was the greatest thing on earth. With each entry he did something, some kind of twist of his hips that pushed against her clit. A drop of sweat landed on her forehead, mixing with her own.

  The tension grew at her pussy, the almost-there impression that she might come again. His body rocked into hers as if he knew exactly how to wring every ounce of a second climax from her. But it wasn’t enough. Frustration hit her like a sledgehammer to the back of head. So close. So close.

  His fingers slipped into the curls surrounding her hidden bundle of nerves and caressed her.

  “Shiiit.”

  “Come for me, Jordan. Come with me.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” She wanted to so bad. So bad it hurt. Seriously. A cramp seized her calf where she held it so rigidly against his thigh.

  Jordan cried out in both pain and astonishment as the first wave of an orgasm broke over her.

  After thrusting one last time, Max went still above her, his own release pulsing within her.

  For the first time in her entire life, Jordan wished there was no latex barrier involved. She wanted to know what it felt like to have a man’s semen spurt into her. This man’s sperm.

  Her heart pounded in revelation. She knew nothing about Max. Not even his last name. And she wanted him without protection?

  What in the hell was wrong with her?

  The cramp became more charley horse and bit into her leg with ferocious strength, destroying any sense of post-climactic euphoria there might have been.

  “Charley horse, charley horse,” she cried, squirming beneath Max in an effort to reach the afflicted muscle.

  “Shit. Where?” Max withdrew from her pussy and rolled to her side.

  “Calf.”

  He grabbed her leg.

  “The other one,” she gasped, pinching her eyes closed against the insane pain.
Max took hold of it and rubbed up and down her calf, feeling for the bunched muscle and massaging it with absolute accuracy.

  Once she was able to breathe again, she wilted into the bed.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He continued stroking her leg from knee to ankle.

  “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything, kamikaze. I think the top of my head blew off.”

  “Gross. I can’t wait to see that mess when the lights come back on.”

  “You said this happens a lot?”

  “Yeah. Old place. The breaker pops. It just needs to be flipped, I’m sure. Been doing it every once in awhile since I moved in.”

  His lips touched her shoulder and moved to the tip of her breast. “And how long has that been?”

  “Three…” she gulped when his mouth closed around the nipple and the rest of her sentence came out in a squeak, “…years or so.”

  Max wrapped his tongue around the sweet berry in his mouth. He loved her taste, her squeaks when she came, the way her body arched beneath him. In the past he’d been one to have some fun and then run, but right now he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and snuggle under the covers. He imagined waking up next to her in the morning and slipping inside her tight sheath while she came awake.

  He slid his hand down her abdomen and into the nest of curls shielding her mound and found himself wanting to go another round right now. Fuck waiting until morning.

  Max slipped his fingers down the cream heating her slit. Jordan’s back arched, bringing her breast up and farther into his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her. His cock responded as well, ready for another go of her pussy pulsing around him. He loved her smell and her attitude and her—

  Son of a fucking bitch, Jensen. You know nothing about her. She’s a night of good sex. Not wife material.

  As soon as he thought it, he nearly jumped off the bed.

  Since when did a round of sex—albeit utterly fanfuckingtastic sex—make him think in terms of a wife?

  With one last glide of his fingers through her core, Max untangled himself and stood.

  “Where are you going?” She sounded almost frightened. Because she thought he was leaving her or because she was scared of the dark?