Lovers at Heart(8)

“Max.” Just sitting beside her, touching her thigh, the way she looked at him with desire and embarrassment, all wrapped up into one, sped up his thrum of desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

She leaned in to kiss him, and he held her back gently. He needed to talk to her first. He had to apologize. Treat wasn’t a man who treated women poorly. The fact that he had hurt her had been weighing heavily on him. She’d blown him off when he’d apologized, and it was a half-ass apology anyway. He hadn’t taken the time to really apologize the way she deserved. He wanted—no, he needed—to explain things to her.

“Max, I want to talk to you first.”

She froze beneath his touch and closed her eyes. “It’s me. You don’t want me again, right?”

“What? No.” He grabbed her wrist as she pushed herself from the couch. “Max, that’s not it at all. You’re misinterpreting my hesitation.” Why did he always have to sound so damned professional? Why couldn’t he pour out his emotions?

Her chest rose and fell with each breath as he watched anger reach her narrowing eyes. Damn it. She was misconstruing his intentions; he could see it. The hell with it. He’d explain it to her later. After. When she was too tired to run away or even think.

He pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her—hard—until he felt the tension in her body ease, and she leaned in to him. God, she feels good. He brought his hand to her waist, and she lifted her arm around his neck. He cupped her breast, caressing her through the filmy fabric of her dress, feeling her nipple harden beneath his touch. He needed her—all of her. She arched her neck, and he kissed the edge of her jaw, the dip between her chin, then took her neck into his mouth in a long, sensuous suck that felt like it might pull the come right out of him.

She moaned, urging him, pressing her chest into his hand. He pulled her dress to the side and took her breast into his mouth, sucking, licking, as she writhed on his lap, grinding herself into him. He moved to the other side, lapping at the crest of her breast before gently teasing her nipple with the tip of his tongue. She grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth harder around her, then lifted his head away from her delicious breast and looked at him with hunger.

“Bedroom?” she said in a heady voice.

He rose with her in his arms and walked through the open bedroom door. Her bedroom was exactly what he’d envisioned, just like the rest of her organized nest. She had a simple dresser, king-sized bed, and a nightstand, all neat and tidy. The only item out of place was a single black dress hanging at the entrance to her closet. She kept her room just as organized as he did, and that only deepened his attraction to her.

“May I?” he asked before lowering her to the bed.

“Please,” she answered.

He set her on the edge of the bed and removed his tie, setting it neatly on the dresser before unbuttoning his shirt.

Max reached for his pants, and he took her hand in his. “Not yet,” he whispered. He folded his shirt and set it beside his tie, then brought her to her feet and turned her around. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating her body as he unzipped her dress and dropped the straps from her shoulders to her forearms, trapping her arms beneath. He kissed the tender skin on the back of her neck until she tensed beneath his touch. Her skin was smooth and soft beneath his lips as he kissed along the curve of her back, sliding her dress down to her waist. She was more beautiful than any woman Treat had ever been with, and it took all of his resolve to take it slow, pushing past the intoxicated rush of the innocence that softened her sexuality. Her silky stomach arched into his hands as he ran his fingers up from behind and caressed her bare breasts. She gasped as he took her nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, teasing, squeezing, until they stood erect and she moaned in pleasure—and oh, what that moan did to him. He ran his tongue along the side of her slim, delicate neck, sucking gently, licking the tender spots.

He released his hold on her dress, and it dropped to the floor. He pressed his body against hers, chest to back, skin to skin, then ran his hands down her sides and gripped her hips. When she pressed in to him, he wanted nothing more than to taste her—all of her. He kissed his way down her back, to the sensitive skin just above her panties, then ran his finger beneath the strap of her lacy thong and followed it down the front, slipping it over her damp curls. Lightly teasing the hot and sensitive flesh between her legs made him swell with desire. He pressed himself against her at the same moment he slipped his finger inside of her, drawing out another sweet moan of pleasure.

She grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand deeper into her, and he bit in to the crest of her shoulder, cupping her breast with his free hand. God, he wanted to be inside her. She arched her neck against him, and he moved his other hand down between her legs, rubbing the sweet bundle of nerves with one hand while probing her deep and slow with the other. He felt her tightening around his fingers as she gasped in quick breaths. Her body throbbed and pulsed against him as she clenched his arms, rose up on her toes, and called for him in a husky, breathless voice.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he whispered as she came down from her beautiful orgasm.

He turned her around, her eyes heavy with desire, and he kissed her again, probing, tasting, and devouring her, unable to get enough of her. She reached for his pants and unbuttoned them in one quick effort.

“Good Lord. Let me just look at you,” he said in a deep, leg-numbing voice. She was so perfectly feminine, so contradictory to the woman who’d been standing on the car earlier, taking charge of the world before her. How could he have ever done anything to hurt her?

“Treat,” she whispered. She wiggled her finger, motioning for him to come even closer; then she dropped to the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a black lacy thong, and in the space of a second, she’d freed him from his boxer briefs and pulled his hips in close.

“Max,” he said. “Let me—”

She shook her head and took him into her mouth.



MAX WAS LOST in a game of pleasure. She’d never been so open with a man before. She hardly knew him at all, but she felt so connected to him that she didn’t want to turn away. The way he touched her without rushing, with total focus on pleasuring her. For once, she wanted to follow her heart. As Max took him in her mouth, she felt like she’d known him for years. His skin was salty, sweet…familiar.

He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she drew him in and out of her mouth, licking his tip in slow circles, then drawing him back in again. He groaned and pulled her head back, watching her as he drew himself away from her lips. Looking deep into her eyes, he said only one word, and the intense desire behind that word robbed her of any coherent thoughts.

“Max.”

With one hand still wrapped around the width of him, and shivering with the delight of having brought him so much pleasure, Max slid out of her thong.

Treat slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her like she was as light as a feather until her legs were once again wrapped around his waist. She held on to his neck as he reached for the dresser, kissing her while he grabbed the square plastic package he must have set there and tossed it onto the bed.

He laid her on her back, his legs between hers, the hunger in his eyes mirroring the lust racing through her body. She reached for the package and he stopped her, then covered her breasts with his hands and lowered his mouth to her hip. Max sank back into the bed and closed her eyes as he licked a path from her hip to the top of her thigh, then slid his strong hands down her ribs to her hips again. He was so strong, so masculine, and she felt small within his hands. He squeezed her hips, licking the insides of her thighs, stopping short of the heat that was ready and waiting for him, then kissed a path back up, around her curls, to the delicate skin just above. Every nerve was heightened beneath his moist kisses. Max arched her hips. Lick me. Touch me. He splayed his hands on her thighs and squeezed softly.

He spread her legs gently apart and licked the tender skin beside her luscious folds. Max clenched the comforter in her fists. He was drawing every nerve to the surface. She was so close—she shifted her hips, hoping to catch a flick of his tongue, but he held her leg down as he teased her, licking up and down the skin between her thigh and her sex. He rolled her over so that she was lying on her belly and took her ass in his hands, then ran his tongue in the crease above her legs. Every inch of Max’s skin was on fire, almost numb. She’d never been loved so completely before, never had anyone touch every inch of her flesh. He ran his hands up the sides of her hips and ribs, then dragged his body along hers until she felt the length of him against her rear. His tongue was hot and wet on the back of her neck; his hands grasped at her hair as he moved in a slow rhythm against her. Every touch of his hands was erotic; every breath against her skin sent her pulse racing. He took her earlobe in her mouth, then whispered, “I never want this evening to end.”

The combination of his moist tongue and the passion in his voice had her shuddering beneath him. He kissed down the length of her spine, squeezing her ribs gently, each pulse heightening her arousal. He kissed the flesh of her right cheek, then the backs of her thighs as he drew them apart slowly and slid his two fingers inside her again. Max sucked in a breath, arching her bottom into the air just enough to give him better access. He slid them in and out painfully slowly, lingering over the spot that made her toes curl under and her insides reach for him. In the next breath, Max was writhing beneath him, his powerful arm holding her tightly around her hips as she bucked against his hand.