Page 52 of Fallen King

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Maxand I managed to christen the table outside, the shower, and I’d say we christened his bed, but technically I think we did that before he bought the house. My face flames, thinking about it. The fluffy white duvet and sheets are gone, replaced with charcoal bedding. A touch of Max in a house that otherwise doesn’t hold much of his personality yet.

The beautiful night has given way to a gray Sunday morning. The raindrops play a soothing tune against the glass doors of the balcony at the back of the bedroom and nearly lull me back to sleep. Nearly. But I have to pee. When I turn my head to look at Max, I can’t hold back my smile. He’s asleep on his stomach, his strong arm wrapped around me. Those gorgeous, unruly blonde locks of his are a full-blown sex mess, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. When your man’s hair is prettier than yours, it’d be a shame not to wrap it around your fingers and tug. I mean, come on... It’s just so sexy.

Though, I’m not really sure if I can call Max my man.

But I definitely don’t hate the idea.

I slide carefully out from under him and grab his discarded t-shirt from the bench at the bottom of the bed, slipping it over my head before I make my way into the bathroom. After taking care of business, I poke around in the drawers and find a box of toothbrushes, stealing one to brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair. My clothes and toiletries are in my overnight bag, which didn’t make it upstairs last night. My phone’s in there too.

I decide to let him sleep while I pad lightly down the stairs. My bag still sits at the bottom, where Max left it last night, and I leave it right where it is, just grabbing my phone from the pocket and head for the kitchen and what I’m hoping is a functioning coffee pot. The rain continues its soothing song against the roof, and I silently wonder if I open a window whether it would set off the alarm. I decide against finding out and instead find a beautiful stainless-steel coffee maker. Hmm. Now to find the beans.

I’m waiting for the coffee to stop brewing and scrolling through social media when the doorbell rings. At least I think it’s the doorbell. I look around the kitchen like someone’s going to open the door, but Max hasn’t woken up yet.

Shit.

Am I supposed to answer it?

I decide to wake Max up and let him answer his own door, but by the time I walk back through the house, he’s already awake and walking down the last few steps. And thank you, sweet baby Jesus. Because I immediately decide the view I’m treated to is better than office Max or relaxed t-shirt and jeans Max. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Max Kingston, shirtless, with low-slung gray sweatpants hanging from his hips. Every indent of his six-pack abs is on beautiful display, and I’m very confident it is indeed a six pack. My tongue got up close and personal with every single indent last night. His perfectly chiseled V is like a neon sign, directing my eyes down to his impressive erection, and my mouth waters. I slow my steps as he reaches for me. “You’re up?” Genius, Daphne. Way to be observant.

His hands circle my waist as his lips close gently over mine.

He tastes like mint and desire.

His blue eyes are focused on me, and damn, it feels like the sun is shining directly on me instead of raining outside.

“I was just coming to find you.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, and a shiver travels down my back. “I—”

The doorbell rings again, and Max looks up to the ceiling and closes his eyes for a moment before looking down at me and smoothing his hands over my head. “I’m sorry.”

He steps away from me and answers the door before I can ask what he’s sorry for.

The door opens, and Max leans against the frame. “I was wondering which one of you it was.”

A feminine voice laughs. “Took you long enough, Maximus.” She pushes by him and stops when she sees me. Eleanor Kingston is standing across from me in her brother’s foyer, and I’m wearing nothing but his shirt.

Guess I just made a stunning first impression.

“Oh.” Her eyes grow impossibly wide when she spots me. “I didn’t realize you had company.” She looks between the two of us before finally settling on me and offering me her hand. “Hi, I’m Len.” When Len looks back at Max again, she bites her bottom lip exaggeratedly and laughs. “Looks like you didn’t waste any time, Maximus.”

Max runs his hand over his face, and I bristle at the comment. “Excuse me?” Nothing like getting offended when you’re wearing a man’s shirt and no panties. Really makes you feel strong and in charge. Not.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. That did not come out the right way. It’s just the whole family has been texting about you.” Lenny rushes to fix her faux pas, but that sentence definitely didn’t do the trick.

“I’m sorry, what?” I take a step back, but Max moves to my side and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

He eyes his sister warily. “How about you come into the kitchen, and I’ll make us some coffee, Len? Then you can tell me exactly why you’re here.”

She eyes his hand protectively wrapped around me and smiles. “Sure, Max. I never turn down coffee. Just don’t tell Bash. This is my second cup today.” She moves toward the kitchen, apparently already knowing exactly where it is.

Max slides his hand down to the small of my back, then further down until he cups my bare bottom. His lips skim over my ear. “Sorry about this. My siblings are a little much.”

I duck away from him and pick up my bag. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I just want to put on a pair of pants.” I can’t believe this is how I met his sister.

“Leave the shirt on, Daphne. I like you in my clothes.” His voice is firm and raspy and does funny things to my insides before he smacks my ass and disappears down the hall.

I grab the black cotton shorts I packed to sleep in, not sure why I thought I’d be sleeping in clothes, but thankful they’re in here, and slide them up my legs. I tuck the front of the t-shirt in the front of the shorts, so that you can see I’m wearing shorts. Then I lift the shirt to my nose and inhale. Fresh and clean with a hint of something deep and rich, it’s utterly Max, and I don’t think he’s getting this shirt back when I leave today. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and adjust the shirt so it’s not slipping off my shoulder.

Once I decide this is as good as it’s getting, I place my bag on the bottom step and join the brother/sister duo in the kitchen.

Wondering exactly what they know about me.

And what they think of it.

Then I ask myself if I care. But I already know the answer. This man’s family means the world to him. If I want to consider being more with Max Kingston, his siblings are part of the deal. So, I hold my head high, throw my shoulders back, and decide it’s time to win over the first one.


Tags: Bella Matthews Romance