“Yeah. Same goes, Maxim.”
When his lips brushed my temple, I relaxed against him, letting him accept not just my weight but some of my worries. After all, a problem shared was a problem halved—at least that’s what my mama always told me.
“Let’s get you home,” he said.
I thrilled at the sound of that, though I knew he didn’t mean it as he’d said.
After a few minutes, we were back in the neighborhood we’d left, and soon, Maxim pressed a button near his rearview window and the wrought-iron gate in front of a stately home swung open.
“Nice digs,” I said. His house was even more upscale than Millie’s apartment—beautiful in that understated way only the wealthy can pull off.
“That means house?” At my nod, he said, “Thank you. I like this place. It’s the first house I’ve ever owned.”
“I plan to buy a house in about twenty years, when I can afford a down payment.”
He shook his head even as he chuckled. “I’m lucky, I know, but that’s because I’ve worked hard for my success.”
“Youarelucky, to some degree, but I don’t know everything about your situation, so no judgment. Unless you have weird stuff inside. Do you? Have weird stuff inside? Like a pain dungeon?”
His eyes danced as his lips quirked. “Indeed, I do.”
“Ooh…” My heart pounded a little too fast. “For sex?” I could imagine that—Maxim’s red room of pain where he forced orgasm after orgasm from his partner…
His guffaw burst my fantasy. “No. For exercise. But I like your idea better. Maybe I’ll wall off a section and add toys.”
My entire body zinged at the thought of Maxim’s powerful body directing mine in a sex dungeon. Huh, that was a first. I’d never been into kink before. I shot Maxim a side-eye. This man brought out the vixen in me. Millie would be so proud. He was still chuckling at his joke as we walked into his house.
“Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I am. I didn’t eat much at Naese’s place—”
“I know.”
I stepped into the house behind him and gawked at the kitchen. It was nicer than the one I shared with Millie.
The space was larger than my bedroom and flowed into the living area. While the counters were a muted gray, the cabinets were a rich espresso. The appliances were the expected high-quality stainless steel, but I noted the slight scratches on the six-burner range’s surface and the faint sheen from a recent spill that slid down the front of the refrigerator below the water dispenser. This wasn’t a showpiece kitchen—Maxim used it. Overall, Maxim was tidy. Precise, even. No pots or glasses sat out, and the space had few knickknacks. But I appreciated the four, sturdy, well-padded bar chairs on the peninsula that led into the living space. There, Maxim had what my brothers dreamed of: deep, long couches surrounding an enormous television. I raised my eyes when I noted the lack of gaming equipment. So, not my brothers’ full paradise. Those boys could spend hours on some sports game, seeming to find the digital competition as stimulating as real life.
I’d never been caught by the bug. But then, I’d always been more interested in our farm animals and my colored pencils than pixels and sports.
Overall, the place had a warmer vibe than Naese’s well-appointed bachelor pad.
“You live here alone?” I asked. My gaze settled on the wax warmers stacked by the laundry room door.
“I do,” came Maxim’s deep, rumbling reply. “Oh! Those are from our self-care night.”
“What?” I asked, eyes rounding.
“Keelie got us hooked. We wax our hands, elbows.” He shrugged, seemingly unaware that my idea about self-care and his hadn’t been the same. I’d still been stuck on Maxim’s potential sex dungeon. “The ice cracks the skin.”
“Why does that one say ‘Cruz’?” I asked, pointing in an effort to keep Maxim from noting my flaming cheeks. It was written on pretty much every surface, bold and large.
“Because the rude bastard stuck his feet in it, and no one will share with him now.”
I giggled. “He figured out a way to get his own. Like licking a cookie to own it.”
I raised my gaze to Maxim’s, shocked by the heat in his expression. Well, I guess I had brought up a kinky sex room and licking. I fanned my face.Think, Ida Jane…
“Um, this is a lot of space,” I blurted.
