Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Cords in my neck pull taut, heart rate elevated, and then a feminine voice shouts, “Moffy!”
Jane.
Dammit.
“We’re home!!” she blatantly announces her presence. I assume to give us time to “collect” ourselves if we’re indecent.
We are very fucking indecent.
“Finish or pull out,” I tell Maximoff, voice hushed.
He’s surprisingly the one who toys with the risk, staying inside of me. All for that climax—fuck, I swallow another moan as he rocks forward. I bear hard on my teeth again. Especially now that footsteps sound through the living room and kitchen.
Maximoff pulls out and tosses the used condom in a small trashcan beneath the shortest shelf. We both catch our breath and dress hurriedly. He’s armored like he’s ready for gunfire, rarely panicked. When he buttons his jeans, he turns to me.
And he fixes the wild strands of my white hair. I stand an inch taller and buckle my belt, then I tuck my V-neck into my pants and fit my earpiece back into my ear. I run my thumb against his reddened lips.
Maximoff lowers his voice. “The shade is called My Lips Against Your Lips, and it’s not coming off. Stop rubbing and let’s form a plan.”
“I can give you a plan.” I unpeel a piece of gum and pop it in my mouth. “We exit and say we were gathering food for the party.” I collect a handful of shit off the shelves: peanut butter, crackers, a pack of Lightning Bolt! energy drinks.
Maximoff grabs two rolls of paper towels, and we both step forward to be the first out. We glance at one another, and then race for it. I grab the knob first and slip out.
I laugh when I catch sight of his scowl, and then my lips pull in a line when I notice Jane rifling through the kitchen drawers.
“There you are,” she whispers, her curious blue eyes pinging to the pantry, then to us. Mainly Maximoff’s hair. I flatten a few of his askew strands and then unload all the food next to the liquor bottles. I take the paper towels from Maximoff.
He gives Jane a genuine, warm smile. “Bonsoir, ma moitié.” He’s about to kiss her cheeks, but he freezes midway. Catching himself.
He grimaces.
Because he blew me. Very, very recently.
Jane cringes, putting the pieces together. “You should go…freshen up. I’ll sort through this spread before Sulli and Akara arrive.” She motions to the entire countertop.
“Thanks.” Maximoff cracks two of his knuckles, and before he leaves upstairs, he asks me, “You alright?”
I frown and chew my gum slower. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I read his gaze: did I go too fast for you? Did I hurt you? It’s cute, but I’m the last person that needs a consoling hand. “I would’ve told you in the moment if I wasn’t.”
His shoulders noticeably unbind. And he disappears through the archway. I hear him greet Quinn, but the exchange is normal. I focus on the girl in the kitchen.
“What do you need?” I ask Jane and swivel the knob on my radio. Soft chatter returning.
She searches through a drawer, dressed in what Maximoff lovingly calls “granny jammies” for the party: flannel cat-printed pants and long-sleeve collared top. Jane checks over her shoulder and then whispers to me, “You two were almost dangerously loud. I had to send Quinn back to my car to find chocolate bonbons that I didn’t even buy.”
I’m more than appreciative of the cover. “Thanks, I owe you.”
“Don’t break Moffy’s heart. That’s payment enough.” She shuts the drawer and opens another. “Or as my mom would say, you break his heart; I’ll break your dick.”
I whistle and remove liquor bottles from paper bags. That was a mild Rose Calloway hyperbolic threat. “No chopping off my dick and flinging it at the sun?”
Jane crouches to a low cupboard. “Moffy is the one who likes grandiose, embellished warnings.” She shuts the cupboard empty-handed and stands. “You can go. I know you’re only lingering out of obligation to Moffy.”
I’m not about to lie and say, oh no, Jane, I’m really here for you. I’m not. I stay in the kitchen because Maximoff would want me to. The only thing Jane Cobalt and I have in common is Maximoff Hale. Take him out of the equation, and we’re a number and a letter that can’t be added together.
“He wants us to get along,” I tell her the truth.
She opens a nearby drawer and narrows her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”
“Not in words,” I say. “But you know, Maximoff, he’s so over-prepared. I’m waiting for a contract. Sign on the dotted line I’ll be friends with Jane Cobalt type of thing.”
She removes a cheese grater from the drawer, and her lips draw into a thin line as she looks at me. I said something wrong. I feel it before she even opens her mouth.