I lay cradled against his body, my head pillowed by his hard bicep, his forearm curled across my chest and his other arm draped around my waist as I watched a lot of things blow up, a lot of gunfire and a lot of car chases.

Then, I lost my second wind (this could be due to the three orgasms I’d had, yes three, Max really liked the camisole and took his time, expending a lot of effort, proving that) and felt my body start to settle further into Max and closer to sleep.

“Am I losin’ you, baby?” Max whispered into my ear from behind and I nodded, so he offered, “I’ll turn off the movie.”

“No, sweetheart, you finish it, I can sleep through it.”

Then I turned to face him, my back to the TV, and cuddled closer, pressing my cheek to his chest, twining my legs with his and my arm around his waist.

Max’s arm tightened around me, his other hand sifting through my hair.

This felt good and dreamland beckoned.

“Nina, honey?” Max called.

“Mm?”

“You happy?”

I turned my face and kissed his pectoral then I turned it back and pressed my cheek into his chest.

Something exploded on the TV but Max muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mm,” I agreed.

I felt Max move slightly then I felt his lips at the hair on top of my head, he kissed me there then he moved back.

“’Night darlin’.”

I was close to the edge, sleep’s silken web weaving around me, therefore I didn’t guard my words or even think about them when I mumbled, “’Night Max” I gave a small sigh and snuggled closer before whispering, “Love you.”

Then I fell instantly into such a deep sleep, I didn’t feel Max’s powerful arms convulse around me.




Chapter Fourteen

Manning Up


“Tell me,” Max growled against my lips as his hands at my hips ground me down on his cock.

“Darling,” I whispered, not knowing what he wanted me to tell him but willing to tell him whatever he wanted to hear because I was so very, very close.

“Tell me, baby,” he ordered, still growling, letting me move up then using his hands to slam me back down.

It was morning, Max woke with his hands then his mouth and now I was riding him but he was sitting up, my hands were in his hair, my head tipped down, my lips on his and nothing was in my head but the beauty of the sensations gathering between my legs.

“What, Max,” I breathed. “What do you want?”

“Tell me you love me.”

My closed eyes flew open and my fingers clenched in his hair. His eyes were open too and they were heated, hungry and intense.

“Max,” I whispered.

“Tell me, baby, before you come.”

“Max –” I moved faster, riding him harder, I was urged by the sensations at the same time he demanded it with his strong hands.

“You love me,” he stated.

Oh God, it was happening, all of it, everything.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Say it,” he ordered.

He held my eyes and I said it. “I love you, Max.”

His arms swept around me, holding me tight and I watched his eyes get more heated, hungrier and so intense it felt like they were burning into mine.

“Come for me, baby,” he demanded.

“Anything, darling,” I breathed and then it hit me, my head flew back and I gladly did as I was told.

***

I wandered out of the bathroom, my eyes on Max, his eyes on me. When I got close to his side of the bed, he whisked the covers back, exposing the fullness of all things Wonder Max and my soul sighed. Then I put a knee to the bed and straddled him in preparation for moving over him but he caught my hips and stayed my movement, pulling me down to him.

I didn’t mind therefore I settled in, forehead to his neck, torso pressed to his, knees to his sides and his fingers started to move randomly on the skin of my back and behind.

I lay there surrounded by everything Max, his body, his arms, his bed, his home thinking that I’d told him I loved him. I’d known him two weeks and I told him I loved him.

He’d demanded I say it, of course. And it was true, of course. And he should know, obviously. And I wanted him to know.

That still didn’t mean I wasn’t freaking out because he should know and I wanted him to know but I wasn’t sure I should have told him now.

“You know, I do too,” I heard his gravelly voice rumble quietly.

“What?” I asked his throat.

He didn’t answer and when his silence lasted a long time, I lifted my head and looked down at his face to see he looked sated and serious.

“What do I know?” I queried.

His fingers stopped their roaming, one arm locked around my waist, the other hand slid up my spine and into my hair.

His amazing gray eyes didn’t leave mine when he answered gently, “I do too. I said it the other day and I meant it.” His fingers tensed against my scalp. “I’m in love with you, Duchess.”

I stared at him feeling the tears welling in my eyes because the feelings surging through my system were too much for them not to leak out somehow.

“Really?” I whispered as one tear escaped and slid down the skin of my cheek as Max’s eyes watched it mark its path.

Then his hand moved out of my hair to cup my jaw, his thumb sweeping my cheek to dry my tear. Then his warm, sweet gaze came back to mine.

“Really,” he whispered back.

I felt another tear escape and then I bent my head and touched my mouth to his. When our lips connected, Max’s head slanted, his fingers sifted back into my hair to tilt my head the other way and he rolled so he was on top. Through this, his lips didn’t touch mine, they fused with mine, kissing me hard, long, deep, wet and lastly, but most importantly, beautiful.

His kiss was a promise and it was a gift, both the best I’d ever received.

When he lifted his head he cupped my face with his hand and his thumb traced circles at my temple.

“Are we crazy?” I asked him.

“What?” he asked back, lips twitching.

“Are we crazy? Is this crazy? We barely know each other.”

All amusement left his face when his eyes locked on mine and he said, “Love isn’t sane, darlin’.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted softly. “You’re my first.”

I watched with no small amount of fascination as his eyes grew dark and again intense and heated, before he growled, “Thank fuck.”

Then he was kissing me again, his mouth and tongue working wonders, his hands roaming, my legs circled his hips, my fingers moved on the skin and muscle of his back and I liked it all so much, I barely heard the phone ring.

But Max’s head came up when we both heard Harry’s voice fill the loft.

“Max, buddy, it’s Harry. I heard what happened to Nina and… uh… I called to –”

I heard him say no more because Max unfortunately stopped what he was doing, reached out a long arm, yanked the phone out of its charger, beeped it on and put it to his ear.

“Harry,” I watched him say into the phone then I watched him listen and then I watched him go on. “No, you can’t talk to Nina but you can listen to me. Nina and I hadn’t had the chance to talk about Anna and what you said was fucked up and it upset her. It upset her enough that shit went down that led to her gettin’ worked over by Damon. He caught her alone, freaked her right the fuck out and damn near broke her nose and her fuckin’ ribs. That’s on you, buddy. All that shit’s on you.”

“Max,” I tried to cut in but Max’s gaze was directed at the pillowcase beside my head and his focus was directed on whatever Harry was saying.

“I don’t care if you were drunk,” Max went on. “She told me the shit you said and she also told me while you were fuckin’ with her head, you told her you’d do her and you gotta know, I do not like that. That is not cool. You know she’s in my house, you know she’s in my bed and you know better than to say that kind of shit to my woman.”

“Max,” I tried again when he paused to listen but he kept right on talking to Harry.

“Yeah, we got problems. Fair warning, you need to avoid me for awhile and you get anywhere near Nina or I hear you tried to speak with her, our problems will get bigger. Are we clear?”

I lifted a hand and curled it around his neck, his eyes cut to mine, his were very angry and I braved the look on his face, opened my mouth to say something but before I could, he continued.

“I don’t give a fuck about that. What I give a fuck about is you tellin’ me we’re clear. Now, are we clear?”

“Please, Max, I think –” I started, Max’s mouth got tight, his eyes narrowed and his look was so scary, I clamped my mouth shut.

“Advice, Harry, grow a fuckin’ pair. You got somethin’ to say to me, you say it to me. You got issues, you deal with them like a man. What you don’t do is, when my woman or any woman slides her ass on the stool next to you to show you some compassion and kindness, you do not use that opportunity to let go of your shit by breakin’ someone else’s heart. You got a problem with the way your life’s gone down, deal with it without draggin’ someone down with you. Should have told you this a long time ago, Harry, but you need to man up, for fuck’s sake. You need to man… the fuck… up.

With that, he took the phone from his ear and bleeped it off. Then he tossed it aside on the bed. Then his eyes came back to me.

“Max –” I began again.

“Don’t, Duchess,” he cut me off. “Seriously, don’t. It’s a guy thing. I know you got an opinion about everything but the bottom line is what he did was not cool, he upset you and that led to a string of events where you got hurt. I know it was our shit that led to you gettin’ hurt but what he did didn’t help the situation. It’s my job to protect you. What he did interfered with my ability to do that and I need to make certain that shit doesn’t happen again. I’m doin’ that. It’s a guy thing and you need to know right now, you do not stick your nose into a guy thing.”