Quarter Mile Hearts(46)

“Stop teasing and fuck me.” I moan as his mouth devours mine, the stroke of his tongue fueling the desire burning inside me. Bracing himself on his elbows, he looks down, as though checking that I want this. Want this? I need this. I need him. I bite my lip and his eyes flare before he eases into me, stealing the air from my lungs. My fingers dig into his hips as I draw him in further. Slowly he thrusts in and out of me, bringing me closer and closer to satisfying the ache inside me.

Dark eyes watch me, burning with need and making it all the more intense. Every feeling shows on his face as his orgasm mounts. I pull him down to kiss me; it swallows up my moans and with a final roll of his hips my orgasm explodes. As I tighten and pulse around him, Max comes with a growl. His head falls forward and gently rests on mine. Eyes closed in rapture, long dark eyelashes fan his cheeks and my heart seizes. Everything is changing between us. And as hard as I try to fight it, I can’t. There has always been something between Max and me, and despite all my denials, it is still there. I don’t know what the fuck Max Morgan is doing to me; I just hope I can survive him.

Taking care not to crush me, he rolls to the side and removes the condom before he gathers me in his arms to tuck me under his chin. His body curves over mine.

Whispering in my ear, he asks, “Now do you remember?” And I nod.

“What was that?” He chuckles. With an exaggerated sigh, I turn to look at him.

“I never forgot.” I feel shy all of a sudden under his scrutiny, which is silly after we just had sex. His eyes widen a fraction. “More to the point, do you remember?” I ask. His head dips so his lips brush against mine.

“I remember everything about that night. It’s engrained in my memory.”

“Uh?”

“Best fucking night of my life.” He kisses me roughly, flashing me a wicked grin. “I may need to refresh my memory again,” he adds before rolling on top of me.





Chapter Fifteen




It is eleven am when I wake with a start. Disoriented, I try to figure out what’s woken me. The other side of the bed is empty, and my heart sinks a little when I realize that Max is gone. Worse than that is the disappointment I feel. But then I hear the clatter of a pan in the kitchen, followed by a loud curse. It sounds like he’s making breakfast. With a wide smile on my face, I spring out of bed like a Jack-in-the-box. My head feels better than it should, and I rush to the bathroom to swish some mouthwash around. You know, just in case he wants to kiss me. Again. Pulling on some pajamas, I tie my hair back and start down the stairs.

I am halfway down when Max appears in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with a broad smile gracing his lips. His eyes slide down the length of my body, stopping at the pertinent areas and paying them slightly more attention. Over the swell of my breasts, the curve of my waist, and down my bare legs before they snap back up to meet my eyes.

“Is that what constitutes pajamas in your book?” He arches his eyebrow and I flash him a sarcastic smile.

“You’re a wise ass.” I cross the living room and brush past him into the kitchen, and he follows me muttering.

“Fucking hell, Leigh. Do you have to walk around dressed like that?”

I flick on the coffeepot and start pulling mugs out of the cabinet while he plates up the bacon and pulls out a chair to sit at the table. Long legs stretch underneath as he leans back in the chair.

I pick up a piece of bacon. “When did you start working for my dad?” I ask and turn around, resting against the counter, and cross my legs at the ankles. His eyes sweep up my legs again and the blatant appraisal brings the heat to my cheeks.

Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on the table. “I can’t get the image of your legs wrapped around my waist.” His seductive tone causes my stomach to flip violently; I’ll revisit that comment, but for now, I’m not letting him distract me.

“Focus.” I click my fingers to get his attention. “My dad.”

“Yeah, he found me one night up at the quarter mile, long after everyone had gone home. I was drunk. I think he felt sorry for me because he took me home and the next day he offered me a job. That was four years ago.” He pushes up from the table and stalks toward me. Taking the cup from my hand, he sets it down beside me and lifts me onto the counter and nudges my legs apart. Strong tattooed arms wrap around my waist.

“What are we doin' today?” Not sure when it was assumed that we were spending the day together, but it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.

“I need to go into the garage.”

“Seriously? Do you have to go into work today? There are better things that we could be doing.” His voice drops, along with my stomach.