by K. A Knight
He flinches then, but recovers by moving away to start opening boxes. “You’re welcome. Come on, I’ll help set these up for you,” he murmurs.
How did I get so lucky?
We spend the next hour or so setting up my laptop and installing software. We leave them loading while we eat something Max actually cooked. It was mouth-watering and watching him move around a kitchen was a huge turn on. I asked him to let me help next time and he agreed, I can’t wait. After I load my new bag up with all my books for university, I pick the yellow one and the smile he gives me makes it worth it. I do sit and stroke them all for a while. They are just so pretty, and I’ve never had such nice things. My last bag was from Nadia when she was finished with it. I load the blue one up with my purse and keys for work, and then frown at how empty it is.
“I feel like girls usually have more in their purse,” I mutter, staring at the sad, empty bag—it’s like me.
“Why? You don’t need more,” he queries, washing the pots as I play with my things on the table, but then he looks over at me and scowls. “If you want to fill it to the fucking brim with new shit then we will, with whatever the fuck you girls want in there,” he snarls, his voice harsh but his words sweet and I perk up.
“Nope, I like it as it is,” I tell him, closing it and placing it on the table. I look around at the mess I’ve made with all the boxes and bags. “I’ve made a mess!” I laugh.
He towel dries his hands, before turning and leaning on the counter and looking around. Slowly, a grin crawls up his face, one I’ve never seen before, one like on the photo upstairs. “I like it, you made your mark, made it less empty…less lonely,” he states, and I grin back.
“Better get used to it then,” I warn, and we both laugh.
That night at work, my eyes keep going to Max, I can’t help it. Today was amazing and I can’t get over everything he bought me. He didn’t even seem put out, in fact, when I thanked him, he seemed embarrassed. He did it just because I needed them and wanted them, to make me happy, not because he wanted any accolades. He’s incredible and I have never wanted someone so much in my life.
The eight-hour shift kills me, but by the end, I’m wet as hell and the drive home only has me thinking about last night. Biting my lower lip, I look out of the window and clench my thighs together. Every shift in his seat, every time he changes gears, I nearly flinch, my body is that aware of him, and then he drops me off, idling in the driveway.
“Goodnight, Scarlett,” he rumbles.
“Goodnight, Max,” I whisper, before sliding from the car and heading up my drive, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. Once inside, I race to my bedroom and lock the door, flopping on my bed and nearly groaning. I’m fucking soaking, needing to come so badly. I strip off, not bothering to turn on the big light, just the lamp at the side of my bed, and then I hesitate. Biting my lip, I climb into bed, my hands cupping my own breasts and tweaking. My eyes close in bliss as I feel pleasure coursing through my body.
With one hand still playing with my breasts, I run the other down my belly and between my legs, feeling my already wet folds. My phone buzzes and my eyes flicker to it on the nightstand, but then I remember what happened last night, so I grab it and bring it to my face.
Hottie Next Door: Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?
My eyes widen, looking around, wondering how he can see me.
Hottie Next Door: Your light is still on. Everything okay?
I almost laugh, relaxing into the bed. I can’t help it, pleasure is still thrumming in my veins and all I can think about is him.
Me: Trying for a rerun of last night, are you?
I hit send and then hold my breath, wondering what he will say.
Hottie Next Door: Are you?
I suck in a breath. Is he testing the waters? Fuck it.
Me: I’m already touching myself.
Hottie Next Door: Fuck, Scarlett.
Hottie Next Door: Wait, were you wet on the drive home?
I grin, replying as I do.
Me: Yes, imagining you touching me, stopping the car and fucking me. Are you hard?
Hottie Next Door: I always am whenever you’re around. Or when I think of you…
Me: I want to see, please, Max. I thumb out, hitting send and holding my breath.
Hottie Next Door: Fuck.
His text comes back quickly and I lick my lips, what does that mean?
One second later, a facetime appears and I accept it, my heart racing as I sit up in bed and shield my chest. His face comes into view, and I look at my door then hold my finger to my lips. He nods, his eyes on fire and his face strained, and that’s when I notice his shoulders are bare. Is he naked too?
“Show me,” he whispers huskily, a demand, his eyes telling me to do as I’m told.
Letting the quilt drop to my lap, I lay back on my bed and kick it off with the camera still on my face before I slowly tilt it down so he can see all of me. I should be embarrassed, but I’m so turned on that it doesn’t faze me. My chest is heaving in pants, my nipples hard and aching, and my pussy is wet and begging for him. I spread my legs and angle the camera so he can see me. I hear him suck in a breath before he groans, long and loud.
“So fucking wet, so pink, so perfect,” he growls, his voice gravelly and deep. I shiver. “Touch yourself,” he orders, I tilt the camera back up so I can see his face as I do what I’m told.
“Good girl,” he whispers, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Show me,” I beg in a whisper, arching up into my touch as I spear my fingers inside. “I want to see you, all of you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Maximus
I hold the camera higher, tilting it so she can see my face and my body. Slowly, I run my hand back down my naked chest to my hard cock. Circling my length, I squeeze it before stroking it slowly, watching her face as I do. This is a bad fucking idea, but I can’t stop myself. I want to see her. Last night was great, but I needed to see her come, see her let go as she read my dirty words and touched herself, and it seems my little angel wanted to see me too.
She isn’t shy, that’s for fucking sure. My eyes run down her body again, my cock jerking in my hands. She’s fucking stunning, a piece of art, all dipping curves and perfect skin, wide thighs and hips, big breasts, and a pussy looking so sweet I want to eat it. Licking my lips, I let my eyes catch on every exposed part of her, wishing I could map her body with my hands, and find out what makes her scream, what makes her moan. I want to see that perky fucking ass as I pound into her from behind.
Stroking myself faster, I watch her face as she looks at my body, seeming to drink me in like I did her. Her eyes note every scar, every tattoo, and I shiver under her gaze when she opens her legs wider, slipping her fingers through her drenched pussy. I nearly shoot my load right here. Squeezing my cock to stop myself, I focus on her, needing to see her come.
“That’s it, baby girl, rub that pussy for me,” I say as quietly as I can, aware of her family, just another reason for her to move out. I want to hear her scream, have it echoing around my walls as she clenches around my cock beneath me, painting her pleasure into my skin with her nails. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, look how wet you are,” I praise, eyeing her pussy and wishing I was there, wishing it was me touching her.
“Max,” she whispers, her mouth parting on a pant, her breasts moving with each breath, her tight, pink nipples begging me to suck and bite them.
“Fuck yourself, I want to watch,” I demand.
She groans, her eyes closing for a moment before she opens them like she can’t bear not to look at me. Her fingers delve deeper into her hole, one finger slipping inside her. She gasps, her hips rising to meet it before she adds another, spreading her legs wider as she starts to ride them, her eyes on me the whole time. Unable to help myself, I stroke my cock, using the precum beading at the top.
Her eyes widen when she looks at my dick again, obviously now only just spotting the piercing, I smirk. �
�Ever had a pierced cock?”
She shakes her head, a pink blush staining her chest and cheeks as she rides her fingers, fucking herself faster and faster on them as she watches me thrust into my own hand. “It will feel so good inside you, baby girl,” I whisper. She moans, the sound soft, but it goes straight to my cock, my balls almost fucking clenching. Fuck, I want to hear her moan like that around me.
“I’m close,” she admits, her eyes blown wide, seeking pleasure, her thrusts wild as she chases her orgasm.
“Don’t fucking come until I tell you to,” I growl and she whimpers, rolling her hips with each movement. I can sense her wanting to disobey me. “Scarlett,” I rumble harshly, her body jerks at the sound, another soft moan escaping her lips. “If you come, I won’t let you watch me finish,” I say strictly.
Her hips stutter. “Keep going,” I demand, and she wars between following my demands or her body’s needs before raising her hips again, her fingers slower now as she watches me hungrily.
“I want to taste you,” she whispers, her eyes dropping to my cock. It jerks in my hands, almost swelling for her. “You’re big, but I could swallow you,” she taunts, and it’s my turn to groan. Fucking angel my arse, she’s a devil in disguise.
“Scarlett, you’re supposed to be a good girl,” I tell her huskily.
She smirks at the me then, her finger circling her clit before dancing up and twisting her nipples, teasing me. “I never said I was a good girl, did I?”
“Fuck,” I groan, thrusting up, my moves desperate as my orgasm rushes through me, my balls drawing up. “Come now,” I snarl.
Her fingers pick up speed again and she presses her clit, biting down on her lip as she comes apart, her hips falling to the bed as she writhes and then shakes, her chest heaving and her eyes shutting. “Eyes on me,” I growl, and then groan as I come. Ropes of it splatter my chest as her eyes remain locked on mine, half dazed with pleasure.
Panting, I watch her, and she watches me back, both of us trying to recover as quietly as we can. She licks those lips, driving me crazy, and I wish I could taste her. “Goodnight, Max,” she whispers, a smile curling up those fucking lips.
“Goodnight, Scarlett,” I reply, my tone rough.
Then, like the she-devil she is, she hangs up. I drop the phone to the bed, my arm aching from holding it in that position. What the fuck just happened? If just watching her had me coming like that, had me forgetting anyone else that came before her, then what will it be like when I get inside her sweet little pussy? Because now I know I will.
Fuck the consequences, I want her and she wants me. It’s not right or good. It might break us both, maybe even get us both killed, but I will have Scarlett.
We fall into an easy routine. I drive her to university, and we spend our time talking and growing closer. When she’s gone, I either work or wait for her to finish for the day. At night, when she isn’t working, I teach her self-defence before we share tea together. On the nights she is working, I spend my evenings in my booth, watching her gracefully move around the bar.
A tension is growing between us though. Every hesitant touch and every flirty look is only building us up, until I know we’re going to explode. I haven’t rang or texted her at night since our video call, I can’t. It’s not enough anymore, and when I have her next, I want it to be for real, but I won’t push that. She seems okay with it and has never brought up what happened those two times. At first, I thought it was because she didn’t care, but then I caught her looking at me. Her eyes hungry, filled with questions, her hands lingering on me when we brush against one another, and when I pinned her to the mat the other night, I could feel how turned on she was. I was a fucking saint to get up from that and walk away, but I did it, for her. I might have decided I’m going to have her, but it will be on her terms. Only when she comes to me, and if she never does, I’ll just have to fall back to only imagining what I’ve seen…if I can.
One night, on the drive home from work, I changed gears, and before realising it, I reached over and grabbed her knee, my hand staying there. Blinking in shock, I looked over to see her reaction. What the fuck possessed me to do that? She didn’t seem to mind, in fact, her eyes lit up and she slowly raised them to mine, with my hand on her body between us. Neither of us said anything, but I stopped trying to fight it, and now every time I’m driving, I end up holding her hand or her leg between changing gears.
Sometimes, Milo and I join her for her morning run. He enjoys spending time with her as much as I do, and I love hearing her view of the world. It’s so different than mine, she’s the beauty in this life, even in the shadows, and I find myself craving that, craving her. More than just her body, I want her mind, I want her every word. I want to spend all night talking, I want to wake up next to her.
“Why do you do that?” she asks, one night as I’m walking her back to her house from our self-defence class. She’s getting good, really good in fact. She’s a quick learner, and what she doesn’t get straight away, she stays and works on until she can get it because she’s stubborn as hell.
“Do what?” I inquire distractedly, my hands shoved in my pockets as she walks beside me.
“Put your hands in your pockets, like you’re trying to shield yourself from me?” she explains, then stops walking and looks up at me.
The moon shines down on us where we stand on the pavement between our houses, the light glowing through her golden hair, illuminating her beautiful face. Her eyes glitter in the dark like the stars above. She looks like a goddess.
“To stop myself,” I admit quietly, the night wrapping around us.
“Stop yourself from what?” she presses, tilting her head in confusion and pursing her lips. My eyes drop there, and I almost groan out loud, my thoughts turning instantly dirty. Maybe that’s why I say what I do next…or maybe it’s the cocoon of darkness around us—shielding us, protecting our secrets, snatching the truth from me.
“I do it so I don’t reach for you. I ache to hold you, touch you continually,” I confess, my voice deep and dark and she shivers, her eyes widening.
Her lips part, her tongue darting out and moistening the plump bottom one, and this time I do groan. Reaching out, I cover her lips. “Don’t do that, don’t look at me like you want to eat me up, like you’re so fucking hungry, it drives me wild and I’m trying to be good here.”
“What if I don’t want good?” she mumbles against my palm, her hot mouth moving against my skin, making me jerk back and step away from her, but she follows, stalking closer like she’s hunting me.
“Scarlett,” I warn, narrowing my eyes on her, but she simply grins at me.
She stops then, her gaze going to her house behind me and her eyes seem to shutter. “Goodnight, Max,” she says instead, and leaves me gawking after her as she rushes up her driveway and into her darkened house. My eyes linger on it for much longer.
It feels like we’re on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and we’ll go toppling over, the only question is…when?
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
I’m spending less and less time at home and I love it. Whenever I’m home now, I have my mother’s boyfriend trying to catch me alone. Every night I hear him try the door. Last night, he had whispered, “I’ll get you one night,” when he had found it locked. I pretended to be asleep, but I heard it.
I’m terrified at home, yet I try not to let it show when I’m with Max, like now. He’s working on something on his own laptop at the other end of the sofa, a frown tugging at his lips as he yanks on his beard. I’ve noticed the habit when he’s stressed or worried. I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. Milo is curled up on the floor next to us on his back, snoring away.
My feet are tucked under Max’s legs, and the laptop he got me is propped up on my knees as I work on my design project. I have been at it for a few hours, so I take a break and stare at him instead. He really is beautiful and so amazing, he’s a danger to my heart, that’s for sure. He’s
so sweet, driving me when my car broke down, waiting for me at work, and buying me all this just because he noticed I needed it. I still feel guilty, not that he will let me.
He’s so gruff and dangerous. I’ve seen that myself in the way he teaches me. He’s skilled and knows how to use his body as a weapon. I’ve even spotted the gun he carries around, which he doesn’t know I’ve noticed. Not to mention the fact he has a safe room in his house, no, Max is dangerous. I know that, and his secrets are so closely guarded I don’t think anyone will ever know them—apart from me.
I want to know them.
I dig and push, but he just changes the conversation and I’m starting to get annoyed. Can’t he see I just want to know everything about him? My heart is on the line here, and I need to make sure he’ll protect it. Whatever I find out about him won’t change that, he’s a good man, I know it. I see it in the way he is with Milo, the neighbours, and me. Yet when we’re in public, he’s constantly on, like he’s looking for danger.
Who is Max Hunt?
Sighing out loud, I freeze when he grabs my feet, starts massaging, and looks over at me, blinking before a small smile tugs up at his lips. “Can’t get that blending right?” he asks, and I slump back.
See? I’ve had my share of boyfriends, not all bad, but none of them were interested in what I care about as much as Max is. Like my work is his, he asks about it constantly, helping me when he can and acting so proud it makes my heart squeeze in my chest. My ex used to hate when I talked on and on about work, but Max encourages me to, and then actually listens. Or like, when we’re in public, he doesn’t hesitate to act the same. He doesn’t put on a front, a facade for others, like he’s too cool for emotions and to be sweet to his girl…if that’s what I am. He owns it, no hesitation, and I love that.
