And then he's there with me, pulsing inside me, rocking through his orgasm, groaning my name as he comes.
It's perfect.
Everything.
I'm his.
And he knows exactly how to work me. Exactly how to bend and pose and stretch me.
Exactly how to please me.
He lingers there for one perfect moment, then he pulls back and fixes his clothes.
He kneels to help me out of my boots, socks, jeans, panties.
He sits next to me on the bed, turns me over, undoes the belt.
I lie there, on the silk sheets, satisfied and spent.
And then he's there next to me, his arms around me, his chest against my back, his breath against my neck.
"Too much?" he asks.
"Perfect."
"You were perfect." He presses his lips to my neck. "You always are."
My cheeks flush.
My chest too.
It's a strange reaction to a compliment, after all that. And it's too soon to say, really. We've only been together a few times.
But it's true for me too. "You too."
I'm not sure how long we lie together. It could be five minutes or five hours. Time has no meaning. Only the perfect feeling of his breath on my neck, the perfect pressure of his chest against my back, his arm around my stomach.
Eventually, he presses another kiss to my jaw and he pulls back. He moves into another room. Returns with a glass of water.
"Careful." He takes my hand and helps me to a seated position. "It's easy to get dizzy."
It is.
He wraps my fingers around the water. Watches as I drink the glass. With sips. Then gulps. "Do you need more?"
"I'm okay."
"You can stay."
I can? But for how long? Another hour? The entire night? All weekend?
Forever?
I want to stay.
I want to stay forever.
But that's dangerous.
That's not our arrangement.
And, besides, I told Simon I'd be home by two. I don't want to explain this to him. "I should head home. My brother is expecting me."
"I'll call a car."
"No. I've got it."
"I insist."
"Okay. If you insist."
He smiles.
My heart thuds against my chest. He has the world's most beautiful smile.
Max pulls out his cell and he…
Calls.
He actually calls to arrange a cab. I must be staring, because he raises a brow.
"Yes?" he asks.
"Who calls?"
"It's faster." He kneels in front of me, tender and patient, and presses his lips to my knees. Then he helps me into my socks.
He dresses me slowly and carefully, one item at a time, then he helps me up, walks me to the door.
I gather my things.
He insists on walking me out, of course.
And helping me into the car.
I don't object. I'm still in a daze. It's normal, I guess. After sex. And after this.
"Text me when you get home." He pushes the door closed.
"Okay."
He nods good night.
The car pulls away. I watch the city whiz by the windows, one neighborhood at a time. It's a beautiful night, as clear as it gets here, and just the right temperature for the window to stay open a crack.
At home, Simon is asleep. I shower, climb into my pajamas, text Max about my safe arrival.
And then I fall into a perfect, safe sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
OPAL
All weekend, I think of Max.
On Tuesday, I take him up on his offer.
I drop by his office.
And drop to my knees.
But he doesn't finish there. He picks me up, bends me over his desk, fucks me senseless.
It's rough and soft and perfect.
And I'm dizzy and happy and spent. I'm in a cloud as he helps me into my clothes and walks me to my brother's office.
A perfect, happy cloud of sex and affection.
Completely and totally blown away by the whirlwind that is my brother Liam.
Fuck.
Liam shoots me a you fucked up smile. His blue eyes shine with evil glee. "Who's your friend?" His satisfaction is palpable.
After all, he lives and dies to make everyone's life difficult. And here I am, handing him a silver bullet.
Shit.
"Your much older friend?" he asks. "How old are you, anyway?"
"Liam! That's a rude question!" I say.
"You should hear my next question," he says. "Also a number."
I shoot him a stop look.
He returns a hell no.
Max watches carefully. "Max Morrison." He offers his hand.
My brother shakes. "Where's that been?"
"LIAM!" My cheeks flame.
"Kidding." Liam shoots me a look that says absolutely not kidding. "What is your friend doing here?"
"We were just—" There's not enough blood in my brain. I don't know how to deal with my difficult brother.
"Just fucked." He looks us both up and down and shakes his head. "You gotta learn to hide it better."
"Working," I say.
"My work makes me blush too." Liam makes a show of fanning himself. "Quarterly budgets. What's sexier than that?"
"LIAM!"
"You can say it as many times as you want," Liam says. "It won't help you sell your story to Simon." He turns to someone behind us and smiles even wider. "Speak of the devil."
Simon, thankfully, ignores Liam. "Thai?"
"Yes, please," I say.