Lovers at Heart(27)

“Yes. Please, Treat,” Max cried. She dug her hands in his hair again and arched against his mouth as he pleasured her with faster, more urgent strokes of his tongue. She gasped sexy, fast, little breaths. He felt the tension mounting in the muscles of her thighs and in the force of her hands in his hair. He was determined to give her what she wanted—to love her the way she deserved. He licked faster, probing her with his finger. Max shook her head from side to side. She released his hair and clawed at the table as her body pulsed around the tip of his tongue and she cried out again—a loud indiscernible plea.

He put his hands flat on her belly, licking as the pulses continued in fast succession, then slowly eased, before finally coming to rest, her body raising with each deep breath. Treat ripped open his fly and stepped from his pants, setting his formidable erection free. He grabbed his wallet from the counter and ripped open a condom with his teeth, then sheathed his eager length. In the next breath he pulled her hips forward and thrust into her. Max gasped at the deep penetration, and there was no quelling his primal urges. She grabbed at his shoulders as he took her breast into his mouth and buried himself deeper, thrusting over and over again, before wrapping his powerful arm around her and pulling her to the edge of the table so he could push harder. Every nerve was on fire. Every thrust against her hips left him wanting more, a stronger connection. His thoughts became fragmented. He was blinded by the mounting tension within him.

“Max,” Treat said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her cheeks and stared into her eyes. She looked at him through a sexual haze, unfocused and unguarded.

Max shook her head free and grazed his pec muscles with her teeth, then found his nipple and did the same. Treat sucked in a loud, sharp breath as he grabbed her waist, forcing her to match the efforts of his frenetic rhythm. She arched back, her lips fell open, and her eyes fluttered closed as another orgasm shuddered through her, pulsating and tightening around him just as he climbed to the peak of his own glorious release. He rested his head between her breasts, feeling her heart beat against his cheek, and for a moment, he closed his eyes. He pulled Max to him and picked her up in his arms. Treat knew, as he carried her up the stairs for the second time in twenty-four hours, that loving Max completed him in ways that nothing else ever could, and he wondered, as he turned on the shower in the bathroom his mother had used so many years before, how a heart could feel so full.





Chapter Twenty-Five


TREAT WAS RIGHT. The streets of Wellfleet appeared deserted compared to the day before. After picking up her rental car and dropping it off at the bungalow, they headed back into town. They walked hand in hand through the shops, and Max picked out toys for Trevor and Lexi at Abiyoyo. It had been so long since she’d held a man’s hand that she found herself studying the way her hand fit snugly into his. His palm engulfed hers. When he found a scarf that he said set off her eyes, he squeezed her hand like it was the most natural reaction in the world, and Max relished in those little things between them that confirmed that somehow, overnight, they’d become a couple.

They walked around the corner and had lunch at a little restaurant called the Juice, where they shared a bowl of New England Clam Chowder and a sandwich. Max felt her heart opening to him even more than it already had. The simple act of sharing another meal together felt natural—like they’d been doing it forever—and new, all at the same time. Treat didn’t rush her through the meal, or make her feel hurried as they meandered through an entire street of art galleries. He showed her pieces he loved and took interest in the ones that she swooned over.

When they reached the end of the row of galleries, a little fear tiptoed through Max. They hadn’t had enough time together yet. Would there ever be enough time? She didn’t want to go back to real life. She didn’t even know where or what he called home.

“Sweetness, I have a great idea.” Treat took both of her hands in his. The excitement in his eyes made her smile. “If you’re not too tired, I’d love to go to Provincetown, grab some dinner, and maybe see a show? Or we could just go back to the bungalow and watch a movie and relax. Whatever you want.”

I have to know. “Treat.”

“Oh, no. What’s that look? Did I assume too much? Did you want to find a hotel and have some alone time?” He rubbed his hand along his forehead. “I’m an idiot. I didn’t even take into consideration when you might have to be back at work.”

She laughed at his dramatic flair. He was always so calm, and she’d clearly rattled him. “No. I’m just curious. Where do you live?”

He laughed, a deep, hearty laugh that turned her heart to mush.

“Live, live? Like, where do I keep all my stuff?”

“Yeah. You know. Where do you call home?”

He took her face in his hands and said, “It doesn’t matter, because the moment you tell me it’s okay, my home will be wherever you are.” He kissed her, and the sheer delight of it brought her to her toes. His silky lips on hers, the way he smelled musky and sweet all at once, everything about him made her crave his touch.

When they finally pulled apart, she said, “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“I just love to kiss you.”

He put his hands on her waist, and she could see in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing she was—that it would be so great to make out, right there on the street. Just to throw her arms around his neck and have him lift her up into his arms so she could wrap her legs around him and they could just kiss each other senseless. Oh, wait. Maybe he isn’t thinking that. Why was he covering his mouth and looking away?

“Did I say something wrong?” Max asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “No. You just had my mind racing in ways that it shouldn’t be.” He looked down, and the problem was evident by the tent in his pants.

She couldn’t hide her laugh.

“You’re laughing? You’re laughing at this? This is not good, Max. I’m not a twenty-something kid. I’m a grown man. I should be able to kiss you without the world knowing that I can barely think past wanting to”—he lowered his voice to a whisper— “be inside of you.”

Max grabbed her side and bent over in a fit of laughter.

“You are incorrigible!” He swept her into his arms and spun her around, so his back was to the road. “This is so unfair.” He took her hand and walked her behind two enormous hydrangea bushes, then kissed her until her legs turned to spaghetti and her laughter was forgotten. They sank to the ground, where he kissed her deeper, slipping his hand under her hoodie and caressing her breast through her lacy bra. She arched her hips into his, and he kissed her chin, her neck, and down the open V of her shirt to the crest of her breasts.

“Treat,” she moaned.

He rubbed her nipple with the pad of his thumb until they were taut and she was clutching his head, bringing his lips back to hers. Every molecule in her body ached for him. She shoved his hand down between her legs, and he rubbed her through her jeans, heightening her arousal.

“Max,” he whispered.

Her brain couldn’t force her mouth to respond. She lay beside him panting, wanting, craving more of him than his tongue as he licked the dip above her collarbone. What’re you doing? Where are you going? She opened her eyes as he rose to his feet beside where she lay on the grass, with a big, cocky grin on his face.

“Get over here,” she managed, smacking the grass beside her.

Treat crossed his arms. “Two can play at this game.”

Max groaned. “You are so unfair!” She held a hand up for him to help her up.

He pulled so hard she fell against him, and he kissed her again, probing her mouth with such delicate care that it only made her crave him more. She moaned before she could quell the urge, and that was all he needed to pull away with a victorious smile.

“Provincetown?” he asked.



PROVINCETOWN WAS AN artsy community with eclectic shops and street performers along a beautiful coastline. They caught a comedy show, and Max doubled over with laughter in her chair, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. Watching her laugh had become one of Treat’s biggest delights, and as he watched the spark that had returned to her eyes, he swore he’d do everything he could to keep her just as happy as she was right then.

As they made their way out of the club, the evening was cool and the lights from the shops shone in the open doorways.

“Treat! Hey, buddy. How’s the hottest guy around?” A man in drag, complete with high heels and thick makeup kissed Treat on each cheek.

“Marcus!” Treat’s eyes lit up at the sight of his old friend.

“Maxine tonight,” the man said with a flirtatious wink.

“You look beautiful, Maxine.” He emphasized Maxine. “This is…” Treat didn’t know how to label Max—friend, girlfriend?

Max stepped forward and extended a hand. “I’m Max, Treat’s weekend plaything.” She laughed.

“Uh-uh, honey. My man Treat doesn’t do weekend playthings. You must be someone special if you’re up here with him.” He leaned closer and said, “And I can see why. You are gorgeous. I absolutely love your red frames…and your name!”