Max

by Tara Crescent

  “You’ve been listening as I talk about work.”

  She smiles at me. “Of course I do, Max. You’re my friend.” She gives me a hug. “I’m so proud of you. You really do have the best buns.”

  My lips twitch automatically at the pun, but a wave of affection washes over me. It’s lonely starting a new business. Knowing that Charlie’s on my side, supporting me and cheering me on, really feels good. “Your buns are pretty good too, Campbell,” I quip, to avoid saying something mushy.

  * * *

  “Nice girl.” Shannon, who sells cheese in the stall next to me, looks at me questioningly. “She’s new, isn’t she?”

  Hanging out with Charlie, the hours have flown by, and it’s almost time to leave. I’ve run out of almost all my muffins, and I’ve had a couple of people ask for my card for catering orders. Apart from George’s visit, it’s been a good morning.

  The crowds have died down, and Charlie’s gone in search of a washroom. “She’s just a friend,” I clarify hastily, not wanting to give anyone any ideas. Fuck, I’m trying not to give myself any ideas.

  “I figured that.”

  I look up. “Really?” I’m not sure why that irritates me. I mean, Charlie is my friend. Still, why would Shannon automatically assume she’s not my girlfriend? “How come?”

  Shannon shrugs. “You don’t commit, Max,” she says casually. “That’s your goal, isn’t it? No relationships? Everything nice and easy and uncomplicated?”

  Every word she’s saying is true, but her comment stings. She’s making me sound like some kind of emotional lightweight, and I’m more than that. I reflect on my morning, on Charlie’s easy help, on her steadfast support, and my knees almost buckle as realization dawns on me. I love Charlie’s friendship, but I want more. Not just sex. No, I want all of it. All of her.

  Fuck. I want to date Charlie Campbell. And not for three dates. I want to date her seriously. I want to be in a real relationship with her.

  It might not be easy. It might not be uncomplicated. But there’s a feeling of rightness whenever I think about Charlie.

  I know how I feel. Now, I just have to find the courage to tell her.

  10

  Charlie

  Monday afternoon is Renee’s initial hearing, and I still have three of the five boxes to go through. I’m not too worried though. It’s standard practice for a judge to grant a delay under these circumstances.

  I stand up in the courtroom and make my case. “Your Honor,” I say. “The Defense would like to request a continuance.”

  Judge Tang peers down at me from her podium, her eyes sharp behind her horn-rimmed glasses. “What’s the reason for the request, Counsellor?”

  “The Assistant District Attorney has provided some new evidence that we need to sift through, Your Honor,” I say politely. “We only received the evidence on Friday.”

  The judge frowns. “Is this true?” she asks Nolan.

  Nolan knows better than to mouth off a judge. “Yes, Your Honor,” he says meekly. “However, the Crown would like to object to the continuance. Mr. Patrick deserves justice in a reasonable timeframe.”

  Mr. Patrick is the sixteen year old who started a fight with Renee’s kid. He’s a spoiled bully.

  Judge Tang leans forward and looks in my direction. “I’m inclined to agree with the Crown.” She makes a note on her pad. “The failure of the defense to examine the evidence isn’t a strong enough reason to grant a continuance. I’ll give you until Wednesday, Counsellor, but that’s all. We have an obligation to render justice promptly and without delay.

  What justice, I think bitterly. A rich kid is able to hold our justice system hostage because he has money and an ambitious District Attorney at his side, while the single mother is dependent on an overworked public defender. Is that justice? I have fifteen other cases, fifteen other clients. My schedule is absolutely full - I’m already working sixteen hours tomorrow. I’m going to have to spend every spare minute on the five boxes Nolan dumped on me, and that still might not be enough.

  Still, I’m not stupid enough to make an enemy of a judge. “Yes, Your Honor,” I reply. “We’ll get it done,” I whisper to Renee, trying to sound reassuring. But I have no idea how.

  There are very few times I regret being a public defender. One of those times is right after my setback in Judge Tang’s courtroom. I come outside and I see a couple of my law school buddies, Monica and Stephan, who work for a prestigious law firm in downtown Toronto. “Charlie,” Monica squeals when she sees me, hugging me tight. “God, it’s been forever. How’s life treating you?”

  “No sleep, too much work, same old,” I respond lightly, returning her hug, then hugging Stephan. “What about you?”

  “We just wrapped up a case,” Stephan says. “We’re going out for drinks. Want to join us?”

  “I wish I could.” My voice is rueful. “I have three boxes of evidence to look through in the next forty-eight hours.”

  Monica shakes her head. “We’re hiring,” she says pointedly. “You should consider it.”

  “I like helping people.”

  “At what cost?” Stephan cuts in. “How long has it been since you’ve had a night out?”

  Not too long ago, I think, remembering Max’s concert on Friday night. But Stephan’s point is fair. The last few years have been mostly about work.

  Yet now’s not the time to rethink my life choices. Now’s the time to sit in front of three boxes of evidence, and start searching for any sign of the existence of the video that my anonymous caller swore Nolan is hiding from me.

  Four hours later, I’m ready to give up. I’m hungry and exhausted, and when I try to focus on the paperwork in front of me, the letters swim before my eyes. When my phone beeps, I’m grateful for the distraction. Doubly grateful when I see that it’s a text message from Max.

  Still working, Campbell?

  I can feel the smile break out on my face as I hastily type out a reply. Yes. Save me, Max.

  Come over for dinner, Charlie. I have wine and cheese.

  An easy decision, and it has nothing to do with wine and cheese. See you in thirty minutes.

  * * *

  I leave work instantly, because I want to go home to shower and change. As I stand under the cascading water, my thoughts turn, once again, to waking up on Saturday morning, with Max pressed against my back, his arms around me.

  Admit it, Charlie. It felt good.

  More than good. It wasn’t just that my body tingled with desire - there had been something more, a feeling of being cared for and cherished. In Max’s arms, I’d felt a sense of vulnerability that I don’t typically allow myself to experience.

  And just like a moth circling the flames, I’m drawn to that feeling. The walls I’ve erected so firmly around Max are showing cracks, and I’m not working to reconstruct them. I’m watching them crumble, almost like it’s happening to someone else.

  There’s consequences, if I follow through on my thoughts. Though lust ripples between us like a palpable thing, it hasn’t made me lose my mind, not just yet. Hope might lead me to believe otherwise, but we are bound to end in disaster. The collective weight of our dating histories press down on us, and sooner or later, we’re going to want our freedom again.

  And that’ll end our friendship and my run at Joe’s bar, because I’m not strong enough to watch Max date someone else.

  When I first met Max, I swore the bar was more important than sex. When Max became my friend, I swore our friendship was more important than sex. Now, as my fingers drift to my pussy in the shower, and I rub at my clitoris, I wonder if anything’s more important than sex. It’s Max’s face I see when I close my eyes. It’s Max’s voice I hear in my ears, telling me how he’s going to take me.

  You have it bad, Charlie.

  My release shudders through me, but it isn’t enough. I need the weight of Max’s body against me to truly find satisfaction.

  11

  Max

  I’m going to ma
ke a move tonight.

  It’s crazy and stupid, and I don’t care. Hey, I’m the guy that left a comfortable job to strike it out on my own. I’m nervous about losing Charlie’s friendship, but I’m not afraid of risk. I want more.

  When I hear the knock at my door, my heart thuds in my chest. This is it. Tonight’s the point of no return. My hands shake slightly, and my palms are damp. Keep it cool, Max, I chide myself. This isn’t your first rodeo.

  However, in the ways that count, it is. I’ve wanted Charlie from the day I met her. I’ve never taken the time to really get to know someone before making a move, the way I have with Charlie. This is all uncharted territory for me.

  “My savior.” Charlie hugs me tight when I open the door. She walks in and flops down on my couch. “Max,” she says theatrically, “there were so many boxes.”

  “Poor baby,” I commiserate. “I know what will fix this.”

  “Wine and cheese?” Her voice is hopeful.

  “Wine and cheese, and Kill Bill.”

  “Ooh, yes. Hopefully, this time, I won’t fall asleep.” She takes the glass I hand her with a mutter of thanks. “I should probably be working, but I was so tired the words weren’t making sense.”

  “Then I’m glad you took a break.” I give her a stern look. “I bet you forgot to eat lunch.”

  “Guilty as charged,” she admits. “It was a crazy day.”

  I shake my head and put a tray of chips, veggies and cheese in front of her. “Eat,” I order. “You aren’t going to do anyone any good by working yourself to an early grave.”

  “Yes mom.” Her voice is dry, but her expression, when she looks at me, is tender. “You take such good care of me, Max.”

  I close the distance between us and kiss her forehead. “You’re important to me, Charlie.” There’s a lump in my throat as I force the words out. Her hair smells like spring, and her skin is soft under my lips. “Now, the movie?”

  * * *

  She kicks off her shoes with a sigh of relief. “Fucking high heels,” she mutters. “I should have realized the reason they were on sale is because they aren’t shoes as much as instruments of torture for my feet.”

  “Here.” I pat my lap. “Put them here.”

  She bites her lip, and blood rushes straight to my groin at the sight of her teeth indenting her flesh. Giving me an uncertain look, she does as I ask. “What are you going to do?” There’s a definite tremor in her voice.

  I wink at her. “You think I’m going to tickle you, don’t you, Campbell?” My thumb glides over her ankle. “I’m just giving you a foot massage.”

  “Just?” She shakes her head. “There’s nothing just about this, Max.”

  She’s absolutely right. This is it. There’s a line in the sand that we’ve both drawn. We both know we’re surely but steadily eroding it, but neither of us is doing anything to stop it.

  Her legs rest on my lap, and my fingers knead the balls of her feet. I keep my eyes on her face. My cock jumps when she moans. “God, those are magical hands.” Her eyes close and she leans her head back. “What other talents are you hiding from me, Max?”

  “You want to find out?” Neither of us is pretending anymore. Desire has taken over, raw and carnal. My hands slide up her ankle, caressing her calf, stroking her knee. I pause for a second, desperate to inch further, but waiting for her confirmation. This is Charlie. I’m not going to risk getting it wrong.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathes, her eyes hot with lust, and my restraint shatters. I push her dress up, exposing her bare legs. Her skimpy red lace panties make me growl in my throat. “Bad girl,” I accuse, “did you plan this?”

  “Did you offer to give me a foot massage to get me into bed?” she counters with an answering smile.

  My lips curl up, but I don’t answer. I skim my fingers over her lace-covered pussy, and she gasps, a sweet sound that sends a spike of lust shooting through me. Though the panties are sexy as all fuck, I pull them down her hips impatiently. I want to see her, taste her, feel her tense against me.

  She’s so beautiful. For an instant, my gaze feasts on her, drinking her in, then I slide off the couch, on my knees in front of her. I hook her legs on either side of me, and I lean forward, tasting her in one long stroke.

  I’ve waited so long for Charlie Campbell.

  “Fuck,” she groans. “Max.”

  “Damn right, baby.” I’m shocked by the surge of possessiveness that runs through me. “I’m going to have you screaming my name over and over tonight.”

  She whimpers, throwing her head back on the couch, and grabbing my hair with her hands. I move my arms up so I can squeeze her lush, full breasts through her dress. Damn, she feels good. Her nipples are erect, straining against the thin fabric. I pinch one as my tongue finds her clitoris, and her breath catches.

  I’m going to make this so good for you, Charlie.

  She tastes so good, sweet, juicy. She’s soaked and I lap it all up as she squirms and wriggles. Her moans are such an aphrodisiac. I’ve had a thousand dreams about this moment, a million fantasies. This is hotter than all of them. I’m rock hard for her, turned on beyond belief by her taste, her softness, her pleasure.

  I lick back up to her clitoris, inserting the tip of my finger into her pussy at the same time. “Yes,” she cries out. “More, please Max.”

  Hearing my name on her lips sends another rush of possessive pleasure through me. “More fingers?” I murmur, sliding my finger a little deeper in her. My thumb circles her asshole. She starts, then sinks back on the couch with a sigh. “You like that, baby?”

  Her eyes are clenched shut with desire. Her grip tightens on my hair, sending a thousand needles of delicious pain through me. I’m not going to complain - I’m exactly where I want to be. My tongue rubs over her sensitive nub, while I push my fingers deep into her, twisting around to find her g-spot.

  “Max,” she screams, her body rigid. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?”

  Making sure you’re never going to want to let go.

  Her body shudders as I thrust my fingers into her, deep, fast. My thumb pushes deeper into her tight asshole. I’m licking, sucking, grazing her clit with my teeth, and she’s twisting and flailing, chanting my name. She’s close - the tension in her muscles gives her arousal away.

  She shatters.

  Her muscles quiver around my fingers. I don’t let up - I keep my mouth on her pussy, savoring every tremor, every shiver of her body. Finally, she pushes me away. “No more,” she begs.

  I look up at her with a satisfied grin. She looks satiated, smoking hot, her dress bunched up at her waist, her body languid and relaxed. She’s fucking incredible. “Had fun?” I ask her.

  She slides down to join me on the floor, and I kiss her, deep and hard. “I screamed your name,” she says with a shy smile when we separate. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

  “This is just the beginning.” I need to be buried in her softness so badly, I’m almost shaking. “We aren’t done until my cock’s in you, until you are chanting my name with every thrust.”

  Her eyes flash with lust. “I’m on board with that. But first, I need to reciprocate.”

  I almost shoot a load at the mental image of her on her knees, her pretty lips wrapped around my cock. But as tempting as that image is, I want to be buried in her pussy more. “Let’s take a raincheck on that,” I say. “Take your clothes off, Charlie. I want to fuck you.”

  12

  Charlie

  I run my hand over the bulge in his jeans. He sheds his clothing quickly, and his cock, thick and hard and so ready, comes into view. I want him. I wrap my fingers around his dick. “Oh god Max,” I groan.

  He smirks at me. “Exactly.”

  I punch him lightly on his upper arm. “Weren’t you just telling me a second ago how you have to fuck me?” I ask him. “Now you’re joking around?”

  “So feisty,” he grins. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that if you want something, asking nicely m
ight be the way to go about it?”

  “I’m a lawyer, Max. Nice isn’t part of the vocabulary.”

  “You aren’t in the courtroom.” His voice is silky, and his fist closes over his dick. “If you want something in my bedroom,” he gives me a stern look, “you’ll ask for it like a good girl.”

  Damn, that’s hot. His voice is firm, dominant, and I know that I can’t push Max around. Still, this feels momentous. I haven’t begged anyone for sex.

  Max’s lips turn up in a smile, and his hand lazily pumps his shaft. “Take off your clothes,” he orders.

  That’s a command I’m more than ready to obey. I hastily unzip my dress and step out of it, before unclasping my bra. He inhales sharply as my body is revealed. “Even more beautiful than my fantasies,” he mutters.

  “There were fantasies?”

  “A lot of them. Let’s act one out now.”

  I know what he’s waiting for. “Please, Max,” I move backward until my calves hit the edge of his bed. My voice is heavy with need as I cup my breasts in my hands. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Without a word, Max moves toward me. His eyes gleam with anticipation as he rolls a condom on his dick, and he drives into me, his thick cock stretching me wide.

  This is better than my wildest dreams.

  He pulls back, then slams into me again, and I fall back against the bed. He stands at the space between my thighs, and he thrusts again.

  The sensation blows my mind. I feel every inch of him as he pounds into me. His breathing is harsh, and his eyes are glazed with pleasure. “Charlie,” he rasps, his thumbs gliding over my nipples, before pinching them between his fingers. “You feel so amazing.”

  “You too,” I gasp as he changes the angle of his strokes ever so slightly. “Fuck, that’s a good spot.”