by Ali Parker
His boxers were the next thing to go, and as he stepped out of them, he pulled his shirt off over his head. The sight of his rock-hard body would never get old.
I planted my hands on his chest and pushed him backward. He fell onto the couch and watched me with hungry eyes as I went to my knees in front of him. Now that we’d completely traded places, it was my turn to return the favor and show him how much I appreciated him.
I ran my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock as I braced myself on his muscular thighs. Max gathered my hair up off my face and held it back as I teased him with my tongue as he’d done to me. When I was sure he could hardly take any more, I pressed my lips to the tip, sealed them around him, and took his length into my mouth inch by inch until he was pressed to the back of my throat and my airway was blocked.
Max’s ass clenched as he restrained himself. His cock pressed deeper into my mouth. I moaned around his size and held him for as long as I could before coming up for air. Then I worked myself up and down over his length, taking as much of him as I could and pausing to press my tongue to the sensitive spot under his head.
I was driving him wild.
The way his muscles flexed and his breath hitched made my skin burn. As he watched me suck him off, I spread my legs and rolled my fingers over my clit.
Max hung his head back and closed his eyes. “Fuck.”
My response was an incoherent moan around his cock in my mouth.
He began slowly thrusting his hips. His fingers in my hair held me in place, and I took as much as he would give me until he pulled me off with a primal growl and drew me back onto his lap. Still maintaining his hold on my hair, he pulled my head back and wiped my lips with his thumb. Then he released me, reached around behind me, and lifted me up.
I pressed my hands to his chest. “Wait,” I whispered. “Condom.”
He grimaced, but he didn’t protest. I stepped off, and he searched through his jeans until he withdrew a small gold wrapper. He tore it open, rolled the rubber on, and flung the wrapper across the room like a throwing card.
I took my seat on his lap once more.
Max eased his cock inside me.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and I draped my arms around the back of his neck so I could hold on for dear life as I leaned back and rocked my hips.
Max slapped my ass. I smiled. So did he.
Then our mouths crashed together for more kisses as I rode him. He groaned beneath me and lifted his hips. I bounced and grinded against him, desperate for all of him, wishing we could remain suspended in this bliss forever.
Max wrapped his arms around my waist and stood up. We kissed as he carried me around to the side of the sofa and set me down on the armrest. I leaned back on my hands, and he arched his hips forward, burying himself deep inside me over and over until I was overcome with pleasure. When he pressed a thumb to my clit, I came within seconds, and he relished the sounds I made and the way I was powerless to my own body as I rode out the storm.
Then he pulled me off the armrest and turned me around. He pressed me forward, bending me over it, and smacked my ass. I went to the tips of my toes, lifting myself up for him, and he rubbed my pussy. I loved being at his mercy.
When I was good and wet, he stepped in close and slid his cock back inside me.
I pressed back against him.
He gripped my hips and held me there before bucking wildly against me, filling the places inside me that had never been touched, driving me wild, fucking me senseless, until the only thing I could do was hang my head and grip the cushions beneath me as another fierce orgasm broke open inside me.
Max came at the same time.
We rode out the crash of euphoria, both of our breathing labored as we broke apart, and then Max pulled me around the sofa and we collapsed down onto it together. I lay against his side with my cheek on his chest. His heart thumped beneath my cheek, and I closed my eyes as I reveled in the endorphins racing through my body.
Max rubbed my shoulder and held me close before pressing his lips to my forehead.
Like me, I think he was trying to tell me something without words.
And I was afraid that something might be I’m falling in love with you.
Chapter 22
Max
I drummed my fingers on the kitchen counter as I stared down at the date on my phone.
The twenty-first of November.
Where had the time gone?
It seemed like just yesterday, I was sitting in my living room dreading how this month was going to go. Now three short weeks later, I was dreading things going back to normal.
Normal, I thought sourly.
After all this, how was I supposed to go back to my mundane routine and the way I filled my days before Piper? How was I supposed to keep a level head when I knew full well she was with another man?
The last man.
The last man before she made her choice.
I pushed that thought away as soon as it came. Dwelling on an outcome I could not control served no purpose other than to make my stomach roll with nausea and dread. The thought of my girl choosing and loving someone else hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced.
And it was only a thought.
What would the real thing feel like?
I was spared from the vicious spiral of thoughts when my phone rang and my grandmother’s assisted living residence flashed across the screen. I answered the call, confirmed that yes, I was Max Fisher, Elaine Ridley’s grandson, and then I was patched through to my grandmother.
“Max,” she said into the line, her voice as gravelly as ever. “I’m sorry I missed your call yesterday. I was playing chess with Roland.”
“Roland?” I asked skeptically. “Who’s that? And is he better looking than me?”
She chuckled. “Attractiveness is subjective, sweetheart.”
“That’s a yes.”
“Nonsense. Roland is a friend. And a refreshing change of pace when it comes to playing chess. He’s actually a challenge.”
“I’m offended by that.”
My grandmother laughed at my expense before telling me to hold on for a second. I listened patiently while she indulged in a brief conversation with another woman who lived on her floor, named Clarice, who suffered from mild dementia and often went on walkabouts throughout the residence, making friends here and there and talking to birds and mice that did not exist like an eighty-seven-year-old Disney princess. I put the phone on speaker while I waited.
“Sorry, Max. Clarice was making her rounds.”
“How is the old bird?”
“Spry as a young chicken.”
I laughed. “I was talking about you.”
“You cheeky little devil.”
“Blame Roland. You know how insecure I am. I can’t have the most important woman in my life replacing me with some old geezer. Put him on the line. I want to ask him what his intentions are.”
Piper came around the corner of the kitchen with an arched eyebrow and a goofy smile. I grinned back as my grandmother laughed uproariously on the other end.
“Roland is eighty-two. I hardly think he needs your permission to court your grandmother.”
“Court?” I asked incredulously. “Court? Nana, are you and Roland dating?”
Piper’s eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder at me and opened the fridge. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and held up the box, silently offering to pour me a glass. I shook my head.
“Dating, courting, spending nights in front of the fireplace,” my grandmother mused. “It’s quite nice to have a special someone, I must say. Now, he’s no James Dean, and you know how much I love James Dean, but he has a charming quality to him. He brings me a cup of coffee with two sugar cubes every morning.”
Piper made a little gasping sound and pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s so cute,” she whispered.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t lower your standards, Nana. You wait for your Jam
es Dean. I’m sure they’ll wheel him in one of these days. Or hey, maybe he’ll ride in on one of those fancy little scooters.”
My grandmother laughed. “You’re impossible, Max.”
I grinned. “You raised me.”
“Don’t turn this around on me. I’m not the one entertaining a woman in my home every night. How are things going with Piper?”
Piper and I looked at each other.
She covered her mouth as she giggled, and I fumbled to find the right words. Suddenly, it felt like there was a lot of pressure to say the right thing.
“Things are going really well,” I said. “She’s actually here with me right now.”
“Is she?”
Piper leaned in close to the phone. “Hi, Nana Ridley. This is Piper. It’s nice to meet you.”
“She sounds pretty,” my grandmother said.
“She’s all right,” I said. Piper swatted at me while my grandmother’s crackly laughter came through my phone speakers. “In all seriousness, you’d like her very much, Nana. She’s smart, funny, and she keeps me in line.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You need a woman in your life who’s smarter than you, Max. No offense. But you’ll benefit from it. Trust me, dear.”
“I like her,” Piper said, nodding at the phone.
I held up both hands. “All right. All right. Before the two of you decide to completely undercut my confidence, let’s get to the root of why I called you yesterday. Nana, Piper and I were wondering if we could fly you out here for Thanksgiving dinner next week. You could come up on Wednesday, spend the night, and stay as long as you like. You know I have plenty of space. And before you ask, no. Ralph can not tag along.”
“Roland,” Piper corrected.
“Whatever,” I said.
“Is Piper going to be there?” my grandmother asked.
“Of course,” I said. “She’s helping me cook. You think I could swing a turkey dinner without her help?”
“That’s why I asked. If Piper is there and Holly is coming, I really can’t think of a reason why I would say no. And thank you for inviting Roland, but he’s having dinner with his daughters.”
I frowned. “I didn’t invite him, Nana.”
“It was very thoughtful of you. I’ll let him know. He’ll be so happy to hear you’re accepting him.”
“Wait just a second—”
“I have to go, Max. You’ll send a car to the home to take me to the airport on Wednesday?”
“Yes, but hang on a minute.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be ready. Leave the details with one of the employees here, and they’ll make sure I’m ready on time. Love you, sweetheart. Looking forward to meeting you in person, Piper dear.”
Piper grinned. “See you soon, Nana Ridley.”
I ended the call.
Piper leaned on the kitchen counter and folded her arms. “Well, she’s a delight. I know where you get your sense of humor from.”
“We like to give each other a hard time.”
“I’m excited to meet her. What’s her favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner? We’ll make sure to have it for her.”
I frowned. “I’m not sure actually. Pumpkin pie? That sounds right.”
“Well, there will definitely be pumpkin pie. And gravy. And stuffing. And cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, yam soufflé—”
“Yam soufflé?”
Piper nodded dramatically. “Oh, boy. I’m going to rock your whole damn world with my yam soufflé.”
There was no denying how lucky I was to have Piper’s help in this. I’d never prepared a turkey dinner before, and when I’d told her that the other night, she nearly blew her top and insisted I needed to host this year. She demanded I invite Holly, who, when I called her last night, obnoxiously stated that she would be bringing her new boy toy with her.
I’d already forgotten his name.
It didn’t matter. Knowing my sister, she’d get tired of him in three to four weeks and cast him aside. After which, she’d flaunt her single life and how happy she was flying solo. Before falling head over heels for the next hot guy who swept her off her feet at a cafe somewhere in the city.
And the cycle would begin again.
I wasn’t judging.
Before Piper, I used to be envious of her lifestyle. She made connections effortlessly and had more experiences under her belt than I did. I supposed that was the difference between someone who was career focused and someone who wanted to enjoy their time on earth as much as possible.
I was only starting to see the difference now.
Piper promised Thanksgiving dinner would be a cinch. She warned me that most of the stress came with the prep work and that we could get most of that done the day before. She insisted cooking together would be fun.
I didn’t know why she pushed so hard, but I believed her. Anything we did together would be fun, and that included getting elbow deep in a raw turkey to clear out its guts.
Piper pursed her lips as she pulled out her phone and opened an application. She started typing something out. “I’m going to make us a list of everything we need to do before dinner next week. Groceries. Cleaning. Selecting table linens. Picking up wine. I could make a batch of cider, too.”
I sighed and rested my chin in my hand.
She looked up at me. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. You’re just a miracle. That’s all.”
Her smile warmed me up from the inside out. “Stop trying to win me over, Max Fisher. It’s already done.”
I wanted to be the only man in this who’d won her over, but I doubted I was.
That led me to ask her about the impending Christmas party next month. “Are you nervous?”
Piper took a seat on the stool beside me as she finished the grocery shopping list on her phone. “If I’m being honest? Yes. It’s always confusing when everyone is in the same room. And uncomfortable. It’s like…” She paused as if searching for the right words. Then she nodded and spun around in her stool to face me. “It’s like you’re at your ex’s wedding, except you’ve dated everyone in the bridal party. Does that make sense?”
“Brilliant analogy.”
“Thank you.”
“Sounds horrible.”
“It is,” she said.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. And just think, this is the last one you have to go to. Well, aside from the proposal in January. But hey, the Christmas party will just mark one step closer to all of this being behind you. And if the party gets to be too much and you need someone to steal you away, I’ll never be out of reach. Okay?”
Piper nodded and looked down at her lap, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear when it fell over her shoulder. “Thank you, Max. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Chapter 23
Piper
Nana Ridley, who insisted I just call her Nana, was a woman of great reputation and grit—and tiny stature. She was barely five feet tall, and even that accomplishment was aided by her head of high, curly white hair. It looked to me like a fresh perm, and I wondered if she’d gotten it done specifically for this dinner as we stood shoulder to shoulder peeling potatoes together.
“You know what I like most about you, Piper?” Nana asked as she dropped some diced and peeled potatoes into a bowl to boil later.
“What’s that, Nana?”
She gave me a knowing look out of the corner of her gray blue eyes. “You haven’t once told me to slow down. Or to take a seat. Or to relax.”
I laughed as I slid my knife through a potato. “I know better than to choose limitations for others. My parents raised me in the kitchen of our family restaurant. Sure, cooking is hard work. But it’s fulfilling work. And I’m grateful for your help.”
Nana gave me a warm smile. “You’re a sweet girl, Piper. It’s nice to see Max with you. He’s like a brand-new man.”
Her words tugged at my heart. “He’s good to his core. You should be very proud.”
&nbs
p; “I am,” she said.
We carried on cutting potatoes in comfortable quiet as Michael Bublé crooned into the speakers rigged throughout the house. Candles flickered on several surfaces, including the fully set dining-room table that Max was presently circling to straighten out the cutlery and fix the short orange and white floral arrangements.
Nana beat me to the last potato and set to peeling, so I washed my hands and refilled my glass of wine. I offered her a glass, but she refused. So I poured her water instead and left it on the counter for her.
The doorbell rang.
“That would be Holly,” Max said, his long legs making short work of the space between the dining room and kitchen as he moved to the front door.
I pulled two more wine glasses down from a cupboard as he greeted his sister. Her voice, loud and bubbly, traveled through the house to us, and Nana chuckled as she dropped the last peeled potato into the bowl. “My granddaughter couldn’t sneak up on a deaf tortoise.”
Holly and Max joined us in the kitchen and were followed shortly by a handsome man with a dark perfectly trimmed beard, dark-framed glasses, and a small gold hoop in his left earlobe. He had a wide smile with perfect teeth and a warm, firm grip when he shook my hand.
“Max, Piper, this is Marc. Marc, this is my big brother and his girl, Piper.”
Marc and Max shook hands. Holly and I watched for any potential friction. There was none. Both men were friendly, and Max watched carefully as Marc stood back and wrapped an arm around Holly’s shoulders.
“Thanks for letting me join your family for dinner,” Marc said. “I haven’t had a traditional Thanksgiving dinner in—I don’t know—three or four years.”
Max rubbed his hands together. “Well, you’re in for a treat tonight. Piper and I have been cooking up a storm all day.”
“What about me?” Nana chimed in from behind me. I stepped aside so she could shuffle out from between me and Max. She greeted her granddaughter with a hug and then stood back to look Marc up and down. “My goodness, Holly. If I was your age, this young man is exactly—”
