Breathless (Players to Men)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  He shook his head. “It’s okay—I’m okay, baby.”

  “No, you’re not.” I held those tormented green eyes with mine. “And it’s okay. I’m here now, and together, we’ll find a way out of this nightmare.”

  He stilled at my paraphrasing of his words at the fair. Then he shut his eyes and pressed his face into my hair and just held me.

  As if I would ever leave him alone to face something that was hurting him so much.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ila

  Despite the painful, early morning venture to the site of the tragedy, the days passed quietly. Max didn’t have any more nightmares that had him running to the site of the accident. Or if he did, he hid it very well. I hoped that wasn’t the case. But I understood too that he couldn’t have closure while his memories remained hidden. And he wasn’t sleeping much, either.

  Still, the nights were magical. No matter the time, he came to me. The intensity of our lovemaking had my heart expanding. It was almost as if he felt more than he let on…but then it was probably all in my head because I was the one changing, not him.

  Unable to concentrate, I dropped my brush into the jar of turpentine and went to find him. My cell beeped. I retrieved it and scanned the text. Ila, please. Don’t shut me out, I miss you.

  With a sigh, I deleted Devyn’s message. Another one from him this week, and finally blocked him. I didn’t tell Max, knowing he’d go after Devyn. Pushing my ex out of my mind, I walked into the silent kitchen. Ray was at the bar, though it was her night off, she was covering for someone.

  “Max?” I called out, but just the quiet answered me. Then I saw the neon pink post-it stuck on the fridge. Back at 9. Need my baby this evening. M.

  What baby?

  Before my mind wandered into a gray area and my fears took hold, I shut it off. And set about making my Oreo pudding since I’d finished the last one earlier. I got out the biscuits, whipped cream, cream cheese, and sugar. It didn’t take long to put together. Once the dozen pudding glasses were layered and saran covered, I placed them in the fridge.

  Still too restless to go back to work, I opened the cupboards and looked for the wine. Nothing. I checked the fridge, and there was the half bottle of merlot.

  It could only be Ray. When she cleaned, as long as things were out of sight, she was happy.

  Cold red wine was not good, but I wanted some, so I poured a glass and wandered back into the lounge. I set the frosty crystal on the coffee table, then selected a DVD from my collection and slotted it into the player.

  About to sit down, I stared at the armchair, recalling exactly what Max had done to me on its twin a week ago. My belly flopped—God! Heat scorched my cheeks at the memory. It had been a turning point for us…for me mostly. Afterwards, he’d held me close, held me as if I mattered as we watched the fireworks through the window…

  If Max walked away from me, I wouldn’t just be broken, I’d be destroyed.

  A rough sigh escaped me. Scrubbing my face as if it would wipe away all these feelings clamoring inside me, I pushed the thought aside, picked up my wine, sat down, and started the movie.

  Several sips later, feeling a little more relaxed, the front door opened. Max walked into the living room, his tote slung over his shoulder, hands shoved into his pockets. He stopped when he saw me, his grim expression vanishing. Pleasure lit his face.

  “Hi.” I sat up, pausing the video.

  “I thought you’d be working.”

  “I was…then I missed you.”

  His tote dropped on the floor with a thud, and he strode across the room. Before I could say a word, he pulled me up and kissed me deeply then swept me into his arms and broke off to say, “Don’t drop that.”

  My head spinning, I blinked. “What?”

  He nodded to the wine glass I held, striding toward the stairs.

  My grip tightened on my glass. “What baby?” I asked.

  His brow furrowed in confusion. Then a playful smirk tipped his mouth. “Jealous?”

  “Max—”

  “The piano, my baby grand. It’s at Jack’s.”

  “But you have your keyboard here?”

  “Yeah, I do, to work on my composition. But I need to get a feel for my final piece on the baby. It’s why I went to Jack’s to practice. The thing’s too big for this dining area.”

  If he was working on his final piece, then… “The Conservatory let you back in? That’s great.”

  A muscle worked his jaw. “No, they didn’t. But they will. Now, no more talk of that.”

  He shouldered the bedroom door open, kicked it shut, and put his mouth back on mine for a long and deep kiss, and I forgot my concern as he let me slide down his body. The rigid erection pressing against me had my blood heating. He eased back, took the wine glass, and set it on the bedside table. In one swift move, he got rid of my jeans, tee, and underwear.

  “On the bed, Logan. Legs spread.” He dropped a strip of condoms on the nightstand. At the stark need in those green eyes, I had no recourse but to do as he wanted. Max was a very visual person. He liked seeing me splayed out for him. My inhibition vanishing, I widened my legs, aware of how wet I was. And dying to have him inside me.

  His gaze slid between my thighs as he pulled off his tee and kicked off his sneakers. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jeans, then his fingers stilled.

  I met his heated stare, baited him in a husky whisper. “Need help?”

  Without a word, he crawled between my legs and placed a kiss on my belly.

  “Spoilsport.”

  Something darker flashed in his gaze. “Yeah?”

  Instinctively, I scooted away. With that look, it wouldn’t bode well for me.

  He grabbed my ankles and pulled me back. With his jean-clad knees, he spread my knees wider. Grabbed both my wrists in one hand. Oh, shit.

  Reaching for the wine on the nightstand, he dipped a finger into the glass.

  “Max, the sheets—”

  “Shall I stop…everything?”

  At his cool stare, I shut it.

  “Good. Lie still, no moving. You do, then you’re in serious trouble.”

  “What are you going to do?” I taunted, wondering how far I could push him. “Make me beg?”

  That cool gaze went a deeper shade of green. “Yes…after I spank that sweet ass of yours.”

  My mouth dropped open. He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Curiously, I wondered if he’d actually do it.

  Blame it on the wine, my mouth went off. “You won’t make me beg—you want me too much.”

  He stilled, eyes narrowing. That he didn’t say a word sent a thread of wariness through me. And I lay there, splayed open, my hands shackled in his—he could do whatever he wanted.

  He dipped his finger into the glass of merlot again and slowly teased it across my puckered nipple, and like a bud unfurling, it hardened. I shuddered at the cold sensation on my body. He leaned over and sucked my hardened peak into his warm mouth. A moan of pure need escaped me, my body arched, desperate for more, but he reached across to the nightstand and retrieved the glass, then placed my hands above my head. Waited.

  When I didn’t move them, gripped my pillow instead, he straightened. Eesh, I knew what he wanted. My obedience.

  Holding my gaze, he tipped the crystal slightly. Several ice-cold drops fell between my breasts and rolled down the sides. My gasp turned to a shudder.

  Leaning over me, he lapped them off my skin. “I’m not one for wine,” he murmured, a wet finger trailing more liquid from my sternum to my belly, his warm tongue followed. “But I might just make an exception when served on your body.”

  God. I bit my lip, all thoughts fleeing my mind. I wanted his mouth on my clit—no, I wanted him inside me, filling me. I wanted it all.

  “Max,” I whimpered.

  He ignored me and let a few drops fall farther down my belly and into my navel. At the unexpected iciness, I jerked. Wine spilled, and the droplets rolled down the sides of
my body.

  He flicked my clit with cold, wet fingers. At the sudden sting, arousal churned, cramping my inner muscles. Goddddd! I glared, my fingers gripping the pillow harder.

  Amusement briefly lightened his intense gaze. Then his warm tongue licked around my navel and dipped into my belly button, lapping the liquor pooling there. He continued his exploration of my body and stopped just where I needed him the most.

  Then the fiend tapped my trembling thighs. “Hold still, no squirming.”

  Gah! How was I supposed to do that when my mind, my body, were a seething mass of need?

  Cold liquid dripped over my sensitive clit, sliding downward.

  “Maaax,” I shrieked, nearly coming off the bed. He held me down, a palm on my stomach, and lowered his head, his stubbled jaw grazing my inner thighs. He didn’t use flicks or licks to suck off the wine, his entire mouth was involved, licking, sucking, and nibbling every inch of me.

  God, oh God, oh God! He was going to kill me. I felt like a geyser about to explode. If he didn’t touch me right there, I’d lose my mind. “Max, pleeeease—you proved your point, you can do anything—I’m sorry.”

  Soft laughter filled my ears. He eased two fingers inside me, starting the excruciatingly exquisite torment all over again with his lips and tongue until I was writhing against his mouth, need tightening my body into an unbearable ache for fulfillment. Still, he didn’t let me come.

  “God, I hate you…” I moaned, then begged, “Max, please…” Amidst my harsh breathing and fervent pleas, the sounds of foil ripping filled my ears.

  He flipped me to my belly, grasped my hips, and pulled me up on my knees. And with one thrust, he was inside—stretching me, the rub of the barbell on his cock along my inner walls an added friction as he impaled me. My breath caught, my fingers clenching the sheets.

  Max wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled me up, turning my head to him. He kissed me hard, his cock pushing farther inside me.

  “Do you like me doing this to you, Logan?” he whispered, nipping the side of my neck with his teeth and squeezing my breast with his other hand. “Like me fucking you hard?”

  “God, yes!”

  He trailed his fingers down my stomach, between my thighs to find my clit. He rolled and tugged, making my inner muscles spasm. “And this?”

  I could barely talk; I was so close, yet unable to fall. And couldn’t even nod with his hand still wrapped in my hair.

  He bit my jaw. “Do you want to come?”

  “Goddammit—yes, you fiend! Stop tormenting me.”

  His fingers toying with me stilled. “Did you just call me a name?”

  “Nooo…” I whined, realizing he could very well stop and leave me like this. “I didn’t mean it like that. God, Max, please-please, let me come.”

  He pulled out, and I moaned in protest. He wouldn’t be that cruel. When he flipped me on my back, I yelped in surprise. My breath caught at the sheer intensity of his burning gaze.

  “When you come, I want to be looking into those pretty eyes.” He thrust right back inside me, dragging me up again to the pinnacle, keeping me there. All lucid thoughts left me, then all I felt was Max moving. His rigid length thrusting in and out, the abrasive rubbing of my clit, the barbell there an added sensation, and all I could do was hold onto him as he hauled me up, plunging me into a fiery explosion of pleasure. I fell apart, barely aware when he followed. He buried his face in my neck.

  After moment, he lifted his head. “You okay?”

  Panting hard, I met his tender gaze. Emotions crowding me, I nodded.

  Max eased away from me and disappeared to dispose of the condom. He came back with a damp towel and wiped me clean. Tossing it aside, he lay down next to me and drew me close.

  As sleep hovered, what he’d said earlier came back to me. I turned in his arms. “What happened at the Conservatory? Will they let you back in?”

  He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “All my hard work is for shit. The music director refuses to let me play. I have to redo the year. Apparently, I didn’t have enough make-up pieces to back my composition.” His jaw hardened.

  I shifted, resting my chin on his chest. “The man’s either stupid or deaf. Obviously, he has no idea just how talented you are.”

  His irritation faded. He cut me a grin, a sly look spilling over his handsome face. “Who says he’s not gonna hear me play?”

  “What are you planning?” Then my eyes widened in understanding, and I shot up in bed. “Oh, no. Max, don’t. You don’t want this to blow up in your face.”

  He snorted and tumbled me on my back again. “Nothing’s going to happen. I have it in hand.”

  “Max, dammit, wait—” His mouth cut off my words. “You don’t play fair,” I moaned against his lips.

  Laughter rolled out of him as he deepened the kiss…

  ***

  Pale light seeped into the bedroom as dawn broke. I woke to an empty bed. Max was gone. A sigh of disappointment escaped me at not waking up with him. He rarely slept, and it worried me, as did the pills he popped so regularly. For his headaches, he said.

  One day at a time, I reminded myself. Being with Max this way, in this relationship and living together, was new for me. For both of us.

  I glanced at the time and found a note blocking it. And there, beside it, so innocently, stood the nearly empty wine glass. My tummy dipped at just how he’d finished the half glass of merlot. Max was insatiable in his hunger for me, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

  I reached for the note. Opened it. Gone to the gym.

  Setting it back on the nightstand, I rolled out of bed and grimaced, aching in just about every part of my body—in places I had no idea existed—and stumbled to the bathroom. A hot shower later, I put on jeans and a sleeveless, flamed-colored top with an embroidered hem.

  At the sight of the twisted sheets, stained with red wine, heat filled my face. Before Ray saw this, and God knew she wouldn’t let it pass without some dry comment, I stripped the bed, put on fresh sheets, and dumped the used ones in the laundry.

  I dumped the rest of the wine, and empty glass in hand, made my way downstairs. The aroma of eggs and bacon wafted in the air. Yep, Ray was off her vegan kick and was probably feeding all the little gremlins in her stomach starving for meat.

  “Hey, sis. Made breakfast. Figured you’d need it.” She grinned, chewing on a slice of toast, her laptop opened in front of her. Her gaze skimmed over my face. “A late morning, and you still look exhausted. Max’s workout routine not good, huh?” she teased. “By the screams, I was so sure—”

  “God, shut up, Ray!” I left the glass in the sink.

  “—except, sexercise produces endorphins, which should make you smile,” Ray continued like she hadn’t heard me. “But you aren’t. Guess Max must be doing somethin’ wrong. Yeah, he could do with a belated birthday present. The Kama Sutra, yep, that ought to help—”

  “Ray!” I slapped my hand over her mouth, heat spreading across my face, mortified that she’d heard us, but so glad Max wasn’t here for this. She must have come in early last night.

  “Wot?” she asked, the word muffled beneath my hand, hazel eyes alight with mischief. Then she licked my palm.

  “Ugh, gross.” Grimacing, I wiped my hand on my jeans.

  Ray laughed. “I still can’t get over Max hammering Devyn. What a way to close a crappy chapter of your life. At least, I hope it’s the end. Devyn seemed really mad. Think he’s the vengeful type?”

  I frowned. “I don’t think so. He usually dislikes confrontations.” But the influx of messages made me wary. I really didn’t want to rehash the ‘it’s over’ speech.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. He’s just a cheating shmuck.” Ray finished her caffeine intake then set the mug in the sink. “Righto, I’m off. Don’t wanna be late for class. Don’t wait up. I’m going straight to work after classes.”

  “Hey, wait. How come you were home early last night?”
<
br />   “Er, no reason.” Her lips twisted. “I had a ton of homework and had someone cover for me.” She grabbed her knapsack, gave me a one-arm hug, and like the wind, she vanished.

  Something was off with my sister. Frowning, I padded to the fridge and got out an Oreo pudding.

  Max walked into the kitchen, freshly showered. I smiled, until he took my sweet and set it aside. He kissed the scowl from my face, slow, deep, and decadently. And I forgot my displeasure.

  When he finally let me go, I sagged against him. “What are you doing to me,” I moaned. “You touch me, and I can’t think straight.”

  His lips quirked, but something flickered in his eyes, along with tenderness that made my breath catch. He smiled. “You do the same to me. Now, about breakfast?”

  Since I knew he wouldn’t let me eat my pudding, I was happy to settle for the bacon and eggs, the aroma tormenting me.

  “Sit,” he instructed, putting the pudding back in the fridge, and setting a yogurt near me. “Far healthier.”

  A bowl of sliced fruits, milk, and juice appeared on the counter, followed by a box of organic cereal. I stared at him blankly. “But there’s bacon and eggs,” I protested. “Ray made them.”

  “You can have that after.”

  Scrunching my nose, I helped myself to some of the fresh fruit. “You’re banned from doing the shopping.”

  He merely smiled.

  From the time we’d come back from Millbrae, Max seemed determined that we eat right. Healthy. I knew why. My diet wasn’t healthy. With Mom’s illness, chances were that Ray or I could also end up being diabetic or having hypertension.

  Pushing that troubling thought aside, I ate a piece of melon, then asked him, “Are you going to Carmel for the barbecue?”

  “No.” Zero hesitation.

  “Why not?”

  “My parents aren’t like yours, Logan. My father can’t stand me these days, my mother…much as I loved her, I think she used me in her own way against my father.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Silence took over, broken by the sounds of cutlery clinking on bowls. I ate more of my fruit.