Both of us eat in silence. I think about my run-in with Zach and what a creep he is, and Max is no doubt thinking the same thing. Once we’ve finished, he gathers up the rubbish and tosses it in the trash.
“I’ll close up.”
I nod. “We don’t want any more visits like the one from Zach Anderson.” And although I can see him from the window in the office, I follow him out anyway and stand in the doorway. Zach’s visit has shaken me up more than I’m willing to admit, and I don’t want to be on my own for a second. It doesn’t help that I have started to freak out about the race in a way I never would have expected. Will he really honor his side of the deal if I win? Am I really capable of winning? Max and Aaron have faith in me, but I can’t stop the uneasiness that is growing in the pit of my stomach.
Max steps outside and rolls the garage door down, locking it and then stepping through the doorway cut into it before locking that, too. I watch as he wanders over to the Camaro, pulls back part of the cover, and runs a hand over the bodywork. I shiver, knowing exactly what it feels like to have his hand run over my body like that. Lost in whatever he is thinking about, he doesn’t hear my approach, but his head turns as my hands slide around his waist. I lay my palms flat on his chest and rest my head against his strong back. The familiar smell of Armani and sweat from working all day comforts me. I squeeze him tighter, conveying how much I need him.
Max turns around to take my hands in his and looks down, his concerned expression from earlier gone and replaced with something entirely different. Dark eyes sear into mine, full of pure wicked heat, and my body grows warm the longer he watches me. My hands slide up his chest, and his eyes track their path until I reach his shoulders. Large hands grip my ass, giving me a jolt of surprise when he lifts me higher until I am looking down at him from my height advantage.
It seems that Max is always carrying me somewhere, but I’m not going to complain in the slightest. With me in his arms, he strides through to the office, kicking the door shut with his foot. When he reaches the sofa, he sits down so I am straddling his lap. Reaching out, he unbuttons the top button of my shirt, working his way down, one button at a time, taking his sweet time. My chest rises and falls shamefully fast and I want him to hurry up. But if the small smile that plays on his lips is anything to go by, he seems to be enjoying making me wait. The pulse that pounds between my legs increases, and just when I think the ache in my core can’t get any worse, his mouth makes contact with my feverish skin.
His mouth slides down my chest as each button he undoes reveals more flesh until he reaches my bra and I can’t help but wonder what he’ll do next. His tongue teases my nipple through the lace as he opens my shirt and slips it off my shoulders. Warm palms glide up my back to the fastening of my bra and he snaps it open, pulling the bra down my arms and tossing it aside. It is cool in the garage, and I shiver but mainly from the way Max cups my breasts as his tongue runs over my nipples.
I squirm against the hard ridge in his jeans, wanting more of him, all of him. Lust shoots through me when I rock against him. Max reaches around and pulls off his t-shirt and his lips curl up into a crooked smile as my hands skim over the defined muscle of his chest and down his stomach. Keeping a tight hold on me, he stands and I slide down his body to my feet. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, pausing to take a foil packet out his pocket before he pushes his jeans down his thighs. After he’s kicked off his boots, I grab hold of his jeans and push them down as I kneel in front of him. My hand runs over the bulge in his boxers before I lean forward and run my lips over it.
With a groan, Max reaches under my arms and pulls me up to standing. His hand grips the back of my head and his lips crash into mine. Reaching inside his boxers, my hands stroke his hardness, causing his breathing to falter, and he presses his forehead to mine.
“I want you so fucking much.” His gruff voice cracks at the end before his mouth claims mine once more. I smile against his lips and grip him tighter. Fingers work the fastening of my jeans hurriedly and push them down my thighs. Breaking our kiss, I press my fingertips to his chest and gently push him down to sit on the sofa.
Bending forward I struggle out of my jeans and straighten.
“And the rest,” he drawls lazily, eyes flaring as they roam over my body. Then he reaches forward and tugs my panties down my thighs. They drop to the floor and I step out of them. I take the square packet out his hand and rip it open with my teeth before I straddle him on the sofa. I grip his dick to roll the condom on, his head tips backward against the couch, and his throat bobs as he swallows thickly.