Rolling my eyes, I nod my head, and Max smacks my clit. A cry rips from my chest. "Fuck, Max." The sting of it quickly turns to pleasure, and while this is a first for me, I think I’d like it to happen again.
"That’s better," he says, blowing a puff of air on my sensitive bud before diving back in.
I’ve never had someone so devoted to tasting me the way Max is. I’m relishing every twist of his tongue, every time he plunges two of his rough fingers inside of me. Stars blink in my vision, and when Max thrusts his tongue inside me, I explode into a thousand pieces like stardust floating across the night sky.
"Oh my God, Max!"
He continues to soak up every drop of my orgasm with slow, languid licks. And when I’ve finally come down, he stands before me, pressing small kisses to my neck and cheeks.
"You’re exquisite, Sade." Another kiss just below my ear. "Like the purest honey. I’m afraid I might become addicted."
My cheeks heat at his adoration, but it’s my turn to repay the favor. Grabbing the loofah that’s been abandoned on a hook near the shelf with an assortment of products, I lather it up and begin washing him off.
"Take off your underwear," I command, running the body wash over his abs.
Max slowly pushes his boxer briefs off. His cock springs to life between us, and my eyes widen in disbelief. It’s impressively long, thick, and a tad angry-looking from all the waiting. Pre-cum beads at the end, and I crouch down, running my tongue over the slit.
He hisses, slamming his hand against the tiled shower wall. "Fuck, Sade."
Abandoning the loofa to the floor, I reach behind me to rinse the soap from my hands and drop to my knees. Wrapping my hands around him, I lick the crown like an ice cream cone, and Max’s stomach tightens.
"It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so tell me if it’s not working." Chancing a glance at him, his face is pained.
"I came in my pants from making out with you. I’m pretty sure just holding it would do the trick."
That pulls a smile from me—a memory I’ll never forget.
"Stick out your tongue. This will be quick. But if it’s too much, pinch my leg." Nodding at his command, I open wide.
Max pushes between my lips, hitting the back of my throat in one fluid motion. Gagging a little, I reach around him with one hand and palm his ass for stability while working the base of his shaft with the other.
He thrusts in again, and this time I hollow my cheeks before swallowing the tip. Max curses, but picks up his pace, pounding into my mouth like he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. I cup his balls, rolling them in my hand as I moan around his length. He digs his hands into my hair, guiding my head in rhythm with his hips.
"I’m going to cum, do you want me to pull out?" His breathing is ragged, as if he’s holding on for dear life.
Shaking my head no, he continues working himself over with my mouth until warm jets of cum hit my throat, and his pace slows. I swallow all he offers, cleaning up every drop the same way he did for me.
"Remember when we promised not to fall in love?" Max says, with a goofy yet sated grin on his face. "You’re making it really hard for me to keep that promise, Sade."
It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen Max, since we hooked up in the shower. He’s had lessons to teach at the rink, a scrimmage to coach, and work to help with at his mom’s. And I’ve stayed busy planning for when I go back to work. I’ve madespreadsheets, spent an exorbitant amount of time researching how other organizations are expanding their programs, and I narrowed the locations for this year’s gala down to the final three. All of this, of course, is off the books, but it felt good to accomplish something.
On Saturday, we finished cleaning ourselves up, promptly ordered pizza, and curled up on the couch with Benny to watch a movie. We talked about everything from my dad leaving to what his biggest fears are about moving. But mostly, we discussed our dreams—how his have shifted since he can’t play, and how mine seem to be expanding with this whole learning to have fun again thing.
I realized Max is the kind of guy any girl would dream of ending up with. He’s handsome as hell, good with his tongue, but most importantly… I’m not sure there’s a human alive that’s kinder than Max. He has this way of listening that most people don’t possess. It’s like he actually tries to understand instead of listening simply to respond. It’s not rushed, and there’s no urging me to get on with the story—he’s patient, empathetic. He’s impossible not to love—at least in some sense of the word—like a golden retriever that’s content with nothing more than spreading joy.
Stepping out of my car, a gentleman in a blue blazer and creamy-colored chinos approaches.
"Valet?"
"Uh, I guess." I hand him my keys, shoving the ticket he gives me into my wristlet.
Max invited me to a family dinner. He said it was a special occasion and to wear a dress, but other than that he didn’t give instructions. My mom encouraged me to go, and I considered skipping it because it feels like something a girlfriend would do. But the truth is, I miss him.
So, here I stand in front of a sprawling mansion. One that looks like it was built with the single goal of having a magnificent view from every room. It’s painted a deep blue color, with open-air wraparound patios on both levels. Windows stretch from floor to ceiling, covering most of the walls, and there are so many rounded arches I can’t help wondering how long it took to build.
Striding onto a cement pathway, I follow a group of guests who appear to have stepped directly out of the country club. The women are wearing colorful dresses made of silk and chiffon, paired with floppy hats that probably cost a fortune. The men are in three-piece suits. Glancing at my emerald sundress, I feel grossly underdressed.
What kind of family dinner is this?
