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My fingers find her clit, and I stroke the swollen bundle of nerves lightly. “Do you need to come still, honey?”
Winnie sucks in a sharp, almost surprised breath as she quickly bobs her head. “Yes. God, yes.”
I lower my lips to her ear, feeling myself ready to fall apart. “Come.”
A choked sound fills the air as she tightens around me. I rub her with more force, taking her from the edge of her orgasm over into pleasure. Her cry is like music to my ears, and it—along with her clamping around me—triggers my own explosion. I slam into her hard, hips stuttering, as I finish inside her.
I can’t stop myself from grunting or dropping my forehead to Winnie’s. Her gasping breaths replace the smacking of our skin. My heart races, and tension pools in my stomach for an entirely different reason.
“Max?” Winnie whispers, trailing her hand down my arm until it comes to rest over my hand, which is still between her thighs. My fingers are sticky with our combined release, but I don’t move. Don’t pull away or out. My body remains locked around hers, and it pains me to realise there is nowhere else I want to be.
“Hmm?”
She sighs, relaxing into me. “I’m glad you stayed.”
My throat tightens with emotion. “So am I, Honey. So am I.”
It’s a dangerous game we’re playing. It goes against every rule I ever set for myself.
But it makes me wonder what this could be like if she stayed. If this became real instead of necessary.
If I could actually make her mine.
8
WINNIE
There’s a pleasant ache between my thighs that still has me blushing, even after a day spent lazing around the bungalow. Not even a shower washed away the feeling of Max from sleeping around me.
We’d slept past the alarm, and to my shock, he chose to call in sick rather than leave me here alone. I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the whole ‘stealing the keys’ thing, but I’m not in any rush to leave. I’m almost tempted to stay.
I don’t know if it’s the baby-hormones talking or because I actually kind of like the grumpy cowboy. Helps that he made breakfast shirtless, brings me anything I want, and doesn’t actually complain. It’s nice being taken care of. It’s even better when he does it willingly.
“Would you go to the Fall Festival with me?” I ask sweetly, bringing the cup of tea he’d made me to my lips, eyeing him curiously as he sips his coffee.
Max shoots me a narrowed-eyed look. “No.”
I pout. “What? Why?”
“Because it’s a tacky town thing, and I don’t go to that.”
“Wow.” I set my cup down and cross my arms. Even Parasite moves with indignation. “I’m here once and you’re not even going to take me on a date to your town’s festival? What kind of man deprives his future wife of fall joy?”
Max rolls his eyes as he also sets his cup down, but he turns fully to me. One of his large hands curls around my ankle and he pulls my foot onto his lap. “I’ve never gone to the festival. It’s never interested me.”
“Well, I’m interested, and so is Parasite,” I reply, tilting my head as I watch him. “Why haven’t you gone?”
He shrugs. I’ll give it to him; he doesn’t appear all that against the idea of going. The response he gave me just seemed natural to him.
“I’m not interested in any of…that,” he says without taking his eyes off me. “I’ve never had a reason to go, either.”
“Now you do,” I point out. “I want to go. Come on. I’m from a town that has all the Christmas, wintery vibes when it comes to town festivals. I want to experience a Maple Lane Falls Festival. Just once. Please.”
Max rolls his tongue behind his lips as he thinks. Last night felt like an entirely different man and a total shift in our relationship. And the way he acted this morning says I’m not the only one feeling this change. But whether that gives him an attitude adjustment, we’ll see.
Eventually, he runs a hand down his face. “Okay.”
I sit up a little straighter, grinning. “Okay?”
