23
Tess
“Marcum looks awfully happy today,” I tell Cherry, smiling as I watch the big, burly guy throwing one of his twins up in the air then catching her. The little girl cackles and hollers “Daddy” every single time. It’s a game that’s been going on for the last thirty minutes and shows no sign of ending.
“He always is when he has time with his babies.”
Conversation stops when Jenna comes out of the main building. She’s walking with two other girls, and clearly these are not, old ladies. She looks over at me and flips me off. I think about going after her, but Max picks that time to come over and wrap his arms around me, pulling me back against him, as he straddles the picnic bench behind me.
“Hey, Kitten.”
I can’t stop the self-satisfied smile that spread when Jenna huffs and curls her nose at us, before flouncing back the way she came. Inside I’m cheering. Suck it, bitch.
“Where you been? I ask, tilting my head back to look at him.
“Finalizing some things with Marcum. Two weeks, Kitten. Just two more weeks.”
My stomach flutters at the thought. We’ve already been in hiding for over a month. The Vipers connections with the law and the fact they own the town have helped, but is six weeks too long to be staying in one place? Are we tempting fate?
“Tess,” Max’s voice growls in my ear. It’s only then I notice my body has tensed up. He can read me like a book, and he knows what I’m thinking.
“It’s good, Max. If you’re sure, I trust you,” I answer, trying to reassure him and myself. I just can’t help feeling like there’s this shoe above my head, and it’s getting ready to drop. I haven’t really had the best track record with life.
“Excuse us, ladies,” Max announces to all the other women sitting around the table. Then, before I can object or complain, he grabs my hand and leads me back into the main compound. The heavy metal door slams behind me, and I’m temporarily blinded, because the hall we’re in has no windows, and my eyes take a moment to focus and adjust. Max is literally dragging me down the hall. I think he’s going to take me to the room we stayed in weeks ago, but no, he turns the corner and shoves us in the dark recessed area beside a restroom. My breath locks in my chest when he raises my hands above my head, imprisoning them in one of his. His other hand goes again around my neck, and he tilts my head back to look directly at him—demanding my attention. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“What? Max…”
“Tess, do not lie to me! No one is twisting your arm to make you do this. You said it was what you wanted. You agreed to it.”
“You’re being an ass again, Max. I’m fine; I’m just worried we’re tempting fate staying here too long. You asked me to go with you, and I’m going,” I huff.
“We’ll be fine. Marcum and the boys have the place locked down. You just remember to do what I told you and don’t contact anyone from your old life. That would do more harm than anything. They need to believe you are still being held hostage and that we are long gone.”
“I haven’t. I told you I wouldn’t. Jesus, you’re strung tight today,” I grumble, pushing my arms against his hold. It’s useless; he’s not letting go. Like everything with Max, it will happen when he wants it too.
“That’s because I bought you something today, and I can’t wait to get you home,” he growls, bending down and biting on the right side of my neck. The sting of pain is quickly followed by the sweet kiss he leaves, his tongue teasing the skin. I can’t stop the way my hips rotate towards him. Max has turned me wanton. A woman who craves his constant touch and attention. It’s been constant sex since that day on the beach. I’m not complaining, I’ve come to love the way my body aches from being well used and satisfied. Still, it makes me wonder if he thinks our time is limited too. Is he trying to store all the memories he can, up like I am? Is it even that important to him? Am I? Or am I just…available? Or hell, even gullible. I’m so out of my depth most of the time with him. “Aren’t you going to ask what it is?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts—thankfully.
“What did you get me?” I ask, tilting my head to give him even more access to my neck. His tongue runs slowly up to my ear and then swirls along the shell. He bites into my lobe, and when he hears my moan, I can almost feel his lips spread into a smile.
“A little something to get you ready,” he says cryptically.
“Get me ready?” I gasp when his hand reaches under my shirt, and he palms my bare breast, kneading it his strong hand—the callused skin teasing my straining nipples.