by Kally Ash
She paused, wondering whether the truth or a lie was going to spill out into the message.
My boss needs me to work tomorrow night. I’m really sorry. Raincheck?
Gigi hit send and placed the phone carefully back where it had been. She chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for his reply, which never came.
Picking up her towel from the back of her desk chair, she went to take a shower although she was loath to wash away the lingering scent of Max. She couldn’t just walk around for the rest of the night smelling of him. It would come across as too desperate. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she heard Erin stirring. She got the little girl up and brought her into the living room to prepare her dinner.
Once Erin was fed, bathed and dressed in her pajamas, Gigi sat up with her until she began to yawn. Taking Erin back into the nursery, she read her a book and settled her down to sleep. She drifted off like she didn’t have a care in the world, and for a second Gigi envied her. She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t have to worry about something. Even when she was little, her mom had told her she had worried about small, insignificant things like whether or not the goldfish had had enough to eat, or whether she had brushed the cat one time too many.
As she’d grown up, that sense of worry hadn’t abated—it had gotten a little worse. Gigi blamed it on university and her high drive and desire to succeed at everything she put her mind to. Closing Erin’s bedroom door behind her, she collected her phone and a couple of textbooks from her room and set up in the living room. There was a movie on she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. She left it playing in the background as she studied…or tried to study.
Her brain didn’t seem to want to concentrate on cultural anthropology. Rather it was much more interested in replaying the whole encounter she’d had with Max…over and over and over. Her body reacted as if he were actually there touching her again. She had been so lost in the sensations he’d been able to draw from her that she wouldn’t have cared whether the apartment was burning down around them, or whether they were being robbed. All that had mattered was the feel of his body against hers, the feel of his mouth on hers.
It had been terribly one-sided—Max had been giving, and she had greedily taken it all. Gigi also hadn’t had the chance to touch him as much as she wanted to. She’d decided that when he got home, she would do something about it. Any lingering doubts about whether or not this was right or wrong were now gone. She knew, unequivocally, that she and Max were meant to happen.
Her phone beeped.
Sorry to hear that, Gigi. Was really looking forward to tomorrow. I’ll definitely take that raincheck. XX
Her gaze was stuck on the little kisses Alex had put at the end of his text. Staring at them, her stomach dropped. They were only a single letter, but they represented so much; they were his hope for the relationship he’d always wanted with her and they were the physical sign of her betrayal of Alex by leading him to believe there could be more.
*
Gigi woke with a start. She blinked, taking in the room; the TV was on, her textbooks were all on the floor, the side of her face was creased from the couch cushions. She tried to focus on what had woken her up, her eyes sweeping up to find Max standing in the doorway. She sat up.
“Hi,” she said, her voice rough.
For a moment, he only stared and she could feel his eyes roving over every inch of her exposed skin. She had changed into her sleep shorts and tee after her earlier shower, forgetting how tight and short they were. “I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he said.
She swallowed, her face flushing with heat. “You have?” He nodded. “What have you been thinking?”
He took a step closer and a thrill went through her. “I’ve been thinking about how I made you come with my mouth.” His voice had taken on a coarseness that made Gigi tremble. He closed the feet between them like they were only inches. This near, she could smell his aftershave, his skin and the distinct smell of hard liquor from pouring drinks all night. “And I was also thinking about how I’d like to do it again.”
“Oh.” The word came out of her mouth with a hesitant shudder, her nipples hardening against her shirt.
Max’s eyes tracked down to her chest, and his lip hitched up on one side. “I see you like that idea.”
Licking her lips, she managed to nod her head. He reached out and took her by the hand, tugging her against him. She went willingly, inhaling deeply. She looked up into his eyes, seeing how molten his bourbon depths had become. One hand went to her neck, his strong fingers wrapping around the base of her skull. He applied to smallest amount of pressure and, like before, she yielded to him. His lips pressed impatiently against hers, his tongue forcing its way inside her mouth. He swallowed her moan, the sound dragging out as his free hand brushed against one of her taut, aching nipples.
“Your breasts are perfect,” he said against her, his lips moving from her mouth to her jaw. “You are perfect.”
Gigi didn’t think that about herself, but when he said the words, she believed them. “Yes,” she whispered, her breath catching on the word when his hand skimmed down her torso and dipped past the waistband of her shorts.
“You wear things like this on purpose, don’t you?” he growled, his mouth now on her collarbone. She didn’t understand what he meant until he snapped the elastic waistband of her sleep shorts, making her gasp. “You drive me insane, Gigi.”
She whimpered in reply, bringing her hands into his hair, grabbing large handfuls of it. “You drive me insane, Max.”
He lowered her to the couch, dragging her hips to the edge. Falling to his knees, he placed a hand on either side of her shorts and tugged the fabric down and off her legs. Gigi’s plain cotton panties looked too tame for what he was doing to her—what he was going to do to her. For once she wished she’d listened to Jen and gone out and bought a black lace thong.
Before she could think about that anymore, he traced his finger down the center of her sex. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, her body more than remembering what he’d done to it earlier. “I want to taste you again.”
She stared into his eyes and nodded. That was what she wanted, too, but she would make a point of repaying the favor later on. With her permission, he slid her panties off and discarded them like they were just a token article of clothing rather than a necessary one. His attention dropped from her face to between her thighs. He hungrily licked his lips, and she felt the moisture pool where his searing gaze was now fixed. She was afraid that just one touch was all it would take.
He slid his hands from her hips, along her thighs, to the tops of her knees. Gently, he pulled them open wider, allowing his broad shoulders to fit. She only had a second to brace herself before Max’s tongue descended on her, driving her to the very edge with just a few strokes. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest as he took his time with her—just as he had before. He expertly brought her closer and closer to orgasm, always pulling back just before she shattered.
The game of cat and mouse he was playing with her sanity was taking its toll on her. She felt too full, the rim of her mental cup wanting to spill over, but wasn’t able to. And Max was the reason.
She ground her teeth together as she begged him, like she had begged him before. It seemed that that was what he’d been waiting for because his strokes were more deliberate, perfectly timed and expertly pressured. She came so hard so saw stars bursting in front of her eyes. The orgasm took everything out of her and it was glorious. Gigi shut her lids, trying to gain control over all her senses again, and when her eyes fluttered open, Max was staring at her.
“Just beautiful,” he murmured, standing up and offering her his hand. “Come to bed with me.”
When she reached for his hand, she saw she was shaking, but as soon as his strong fingers wrapped around hers, that stopped. Bending down, he drew one of her arms across his shoulders and then swept his other arm under her knees. She was cradled against his chest, breathing in h
is heat and his skin as he took her towards his bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind them, he lowered her onto the bed.
“Strip,” he commanded, and Gigi complied, tugging the hem of her tee up and over her head. When the fabric cleared her face, she could see he was kicking off his shoes and unzipping his pants. His erection sprang free as soon as his boxers had cleared his waist, and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. Without waiting for him to fully undress, she slipped from the bed and fell to her knees in front of him, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock. It kicked a little in her hand, making her smile.
Max’s eyes were half-lidded, his mouth set into a firm line. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, and she hesitated. Did he not like this? She loosened her grip, intending to stand up, but his words stopped her.
“Don’t you dare think about standing up.” She glanced at his hands, which were contracting and relaxing at his sides.
She bit her lip and met his intense gaze. Making sure he was watching, she opened her mouth and let her lips glide over the head of his erection. She took him to the base then brought her mouth back up to the head.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his whole body shuddering. Gigi had only done this a few times before, so she was a little unsure of what she was doing. Max seemed to like this though. She repeated the action, making his breathing come out in short sharp bursts. Feeling emboldened by him, she brought the hand she had resting on his hip down between his legs, letting her fingers stroke over the sensitive skin of his balls.
His hips jerked forward, sending his cock to the back of her throat. It shocked her, but she breathed through the strange sensation and relaxed her throat. Suddenly there was pressure on the back of her head and under her chin, and she realized Max was holding her head still. His hips, however, were moving against her mouth, sliding his cock in and out, moving it over her tongue. Although she was restrained, she wasn’t afraid. She felt…empowered by what he was doing. She was making him groan and grind his teeth like the pleasure he was feeling was too much, like he couldn’t take it anymore.
Just as suddenly as the pressure had appeared, it disappeared. Gigi blinked up at Max, seeing the anguish on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, withdrawing and bending down to touch one side of her jaw. “Did I hurt you?” She shook her head. He looked relieved. “Thank god. I don’t want to cause you pain, Gigi, but your mouth and your lips just feel too damn good.”
She blushed at the compliment. “Yours too.”
With his hands under her arms, he lifted her from the ground and pressed against her until her knees hit the edge of the bed. “I want to fuck you. Put your head on my pillow like you did before.”
She scooted into position, never taking her eyes off Max. On his hands and knees, he crawled up the length of her body, leaning on one elbow beside her. One finger traced the peaks and troughs of her collarbones, gliding down between her breasts. He circled one nipple and then the other before continuing on his original path. She squirmed when he reached her mons, his finger dragging through her cleft and into her warm, wet entrance.
“So ready for me,” he murmured, placing a kiss against the corner of her mouth.
She made an inarticulate sound meant to sound like ‘yes’. The meaning didn’t seem to get lost in translation though because he reached over to the bedside table and pulled open a drawer. A box opened and foil ripped. When he leaned back over again, his length was sheathed.
“Are you sure, Gigi?” he asked.
She nodded, gripping him by the base of his cock and guiding him to her drenched opening. Max held her gaze the entire time he entered her, and she felt as if he was doing it to make sure she knew this wasn’t just a casual thing. When she had fully taken his length, he held himself above her, dropping just his head to kiss her passionately. She returned his kiss with fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck and interlacing her fingers. After a full minute of kissing, he started to move within her. His strokes were slow at first, withdrawing almost completely from her body before sliding back in again leisurely. She groaned each time he reached the end of her, and squeezed her eyes shut when he withdrew because as he did, his tip rubbed against her g-spot.
He seemed more than content to keep up this relaxed, almost unhurried pace, but she wasn’t so patient. She needed more of him. Tilting her hips up, she deepened his angle, making him pause. He looked down at her disapprovingly. “So impatient,” he chastised gently.
“I had to wait nearly twelve hours for this,” she shot back, arching against him. “We can go slow next time.”
He smirked at her. “Well, if there’s going to be a next time,” he replied.
Max pulled almost all of the way out of her and slammed himself back in again. She cried out as the part of her brain responsible for pleasure started sparking out. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she panted, “Again,” into his ear.
He did do it again, and again and again until Gigi fell apart in his arms. Her orgasm tore through her, and she could feel her internal muscles clamping down on him, almost as if they were disciplining him for making her wait so long for another orgasm. She thought the sensation of her own release would undo him, but she was wrong.
Instead, he gritted his teeth and continued with his punishing rhythm. His stamina more than impressed her. His hips rocked into hers over and over. Sweat started to trickle down his arms and chest, his body working hard to hold back the tide of his pleasure. She held on for the ride, surprised when he managed to coax yet another orgasm from her. This time when she shattered, so did he.
His breath was a hiss in her ear as he bowed his head and came inside her. Gigi felt boneless, her arms falling away from his shoulders and her legs splaying on either side of his body. Her eyes had slid shut, but opened again when his lips and tongue played with her mouth.
“Was that worth waiting twelve hours for?” he asked. She scrunched her nose and pretended to think about it. He growled. “Don’t tempt me to make you come again.”
She smiled, touching his face gently. “It was so worth it.”
He rolled off her and stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He disappeared out the door, the light from the bathroom turning on. Now that the haze of lust had worn off, she realized she was lying naked in Max’s bed. She really should go back to her own room. This was sex—not a relationship— they were having. Perching on the edge of the mattress, she looked around the room, trying to locate her shirt. She stood to pick it up, and was holding it in her hands when Max returned. He was still gloriously naked and Gigi couldn’t help but admire the view.
His eyes slid down to her tee. “Going somewhere?” he asked.
She looked at her feet. “Back to my room.”
“Why?”
His question jerked her attention back to him. “I thought…” She frowned. “I thought this was just sex—just two people scratching an itch.”
“Is that what you want, Gianna?” he asked.
Was it? “No,” she whispered.
Her answer must have been the right one because he nodded and reached for her shirt, tugging it from her hands and dropping it back to the floor. “Come to bed then.”
Chapter 21
Max woke the next morning to Erin’s little voice calling from down the hallway. He focused his eyes on the digital readout of his bedside clock and saw that it was seven am. He’d only managed two hours of sleep thanks to the marathon session with Gigi. If he hadn’t been so damn tired, he would have had at least another three times with her, but he had barely been able to keep his eyes open the first time.
Turning his head, he found her with her gorgeous red hair fanned out on his other pillow, her chest rising and falling gently as she slept. He took a moment just to stare at her. She’d been amazing last night. He liked to have all the control in the bedroom. It was something Chelsea had fought him on, but Gigi had responded beautifully to his commands. It wasn’t that he was into that whole Dom/sub thing—he just
liked to take charge in every facet of his life. He thought it stemmed from his parents’ divorce, since that kind of broke the fragile sense of balance he’d had growing up.
Rolling off the side of the bed, he pulled on his sweats and opened up the bedroom door. The fresh air hitting his face only confirmed that his bedroom still smelled of sex. Max found Erin babbling to her bunny in the cot, and from the look on her face, the conversation was a pretty serious one. He gathered her to his naked chest and kissed the top of her head; he was rewarded with a one-toothed smile.
“Is it time for breakfast, my girl?” he asked her, taking her through to the kitchen. He fixed her breakfast first, sitting her in her highchair to feed her. When she was done, he let her go and play in the living room while he started up the coffee maker. Gigi was still asleep, and he had the urge to make her breakfast in bed.
While the scent of coffee warmed the apartment, he scooped Erin up and took her to his bedroom. Gigi was just waking up, her relaxed expression only lasting a moment before she looked like she wasn’t so certain about what had finally happened between them. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.
“Max,” she breathed.
“Don’t get up. I’m bringing you breakfast,” he ordered, striding into the room and handing her Erin. Bending down, he placed a gentle kiss first to Erin’s forehead then Gigi’s. “I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, he threw together into a griddle the things he needed for an omelette, put some toast on and poured them each a coffee. Opening up one of the cupboards above the fridge, he found a tray large enough to fit all the plates onto. He loaded it up, carefully carrying it back towards his bedroom.
Through the open door, he could see Gigi blowing raspberries onto Erin’s stomach, his little girl’s smile wide with a soundless laugh. He stood there and watched them before he was noticed, and a pang of longing went through him. What he and Gigi had wasn’t meant to last forever. How could it? He was supposed to be leaving in a few months once the club was up and running properly. She was supposed to graduate from university and get a job—a job directly in line with her chosen career path.
