“The whole,scared of the internetthing.”
That is not what I was expecting her to say. “What?” I pull my head back. “I’m notscared of the internet.”
“Yes, you are! Unless you’re on the run from the cops, you’re scared of online stuff. It’s the only thing that makes sense?—”
“I’m not scared of the internet,” I growl, leaning toward her, dropping my voice, and admitting something out loud that I’ve never said to another person. “I’m just not interested in trying again and getting another door slammed in my face.”
Lacey stares at me, breathing hard, and I realize my hand is planted on the couch, making her slide toward me. Holding her gaze, almost like I can’t stop myself, I slide my hand up over her hip, watching as the breath catches in her throat.
We’ve been doing this — dancing around the truth of the energy between us — for a long fucking time. She feels it, too. I can see it in the flash of her eyes, the quickening of her breath.
My face is hot. In fact, everything is hot. My cock is already hard against the couch, and when my gaze drops to her lips, she tips her head toward me infinitesimally.
It’s been like this for the past three weeks with her here, working to renovate this cabin, side by side every day, not pointing out the obvious fact that I’m here because Ilikeher. I like spending time with her.
And I haven’t been able to stop thinking aboutthis.
The moment is like a rubber band finally snapping, bringing us together with lips and breath and teeth — hers, specifically, nipping at my bottom lip, which draws a low groan from my throat.
Somewhere, in the back of my head, there’s a voice arguing that I’m letting this happen now, after so long of fighting it, because I don’t want to say more about the wholetrying againthing. Even though I know I can’t do casual, and she’s leaving, and all this is going to do is make me feel crazier. Sleeping with her now, getting to touch her, it’s only going to make things a million times worse when she eventually goes back to California and some family of five takes her place in this cabin.
I drag my mouth over her jaw, down to her chin, and kiss that soft spot just above her throat that I’ve been dreaming about for weeks, so I both hear and feel her gasping my name.
That’s when I know it’s over for me; that responsible voice in my head is locked away, and this time, I’m going to give in to what I want.
Even if it means getting hurt in the end.
CHAPTER 15
LACEY
Kissing Max is a chant offinally, finally, finallyin my brain. It thrums through my limbs. It’s like collapsing into a comfortable chair after a long day, or that first blast of the heater when you’ve been cold.
All the tension in my body — which is a considerable amount anyway, and built up even higher because of him, coiled tighter and tighter each time our hands brushed, or he looked at me like he might like to eat me — bursts, and I can’t control my hands.
They wander over Max’s torso, which is built in a solid sort of way. Just like the things he creates — something beautiful and functional, warm and pliant, but firm under my touch. I push up under the hem of his flannel as he works on my neck, and when the fabric stops my path, I start unbuttoning my way up to his throat.
Then, wanting more of him, I shift, making space between my legs and tugging him toward me.
He gets the hint instantly, pulling back for a moment to shrug his shirt off, dropping it on the floor before returning to me. AndI’mbreathlessat the sight of him — the expanse of his broad chest, the fact of it rising and falling so rapidly. Because ofme.
“Fuck,” he mutters, low, when I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in close, so he presses against my core — the only thing between him and me the thin fabric of my panties.
I let my head drop back against the arm of the couch, unable to think through the raw, rough wanting. I have never felt like this about a man before, like I could never possibly get enough of him. Like I just want to wrap my arms around him and get as close as I possibly can tothis. Whatever tangible and electric connection exists between us.
Almost like he’s already planned it, Max reaches up, untying the little ties on my shoulder and pulling the overall dress down with a rough tug, revealing a wireless, lacy black bra. It makes my skin hot, seeing this careful and intentional man reduced to short, jerky movements like this.
He shakes his head and lowers his mouth to my chest, sucking on my nipple directly through the fabric. With his cock hard against me and the feel of him between my legs, I’m not sure anything sexier has ever happened in my entire life.
“You want this?” he asks, pulling back, panting slightly, his eyes unfocused, pupils practically swallowed, the look so animalistic and needy it sends my heart jumping into my throat.
I could say,of course, ordo you realize how long I have? But, not wanting to slow things down, I say, breathlessly, “Yes.”
That rough tug on my overalls made me think this would happen fast — pulling down or pushing aside my panties, Max burying himself inside me, something like what I’m used to with hookups back home. A quick and thoughtless chase for pleasure.
But all at once, he slows down, busying himself on my neck, kissing, sucking, biting while rocking into me gently, teasing at what’s to come. He trails his hands over my body, pulling the bra off, runs his tongue and teeth over my breasts until I’m aching for him and practically whining.
Then, he slides down my body, planting his knees on the couch and tugging the panties off, down over my feet, throwing them so they land somewhere on the floor behind us. I gasp when he takes my ass in his hands and lifts my hips toward him, bringing his mouth to me as naturally as anything in the world.
