Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I reached between us, running my hand over his erection. “Maxx, please.”
“No,” he hissed, his hand moving faster, pressing harder. “Just this. Give it to me, Red. I want to hear you.”
The bell rang, signaling a car was out front. I shuddered, and Maxx sped up his movements.
“Come for me, Red.”
“The bell—”
His snarl cut me off. “They can fucking wait. I can’t.” He pressed harder and crooked his fingers inside me, making me see stars. “You come now.” He bit my earlobe. “Right. Fucking. Now.”
I cried his name as colors exploded behind my eyes. Like a cat in heat, I arched my back, pushing myself closer to his touch, riding out the waves of ecstasy. I bucked and moaned, my legs shaking, gripping his neck and almost sobbing as my orgasm crashed around me, peaked, then ebbed, leaving me a boneless, shuddering mess in his arms.
Maxx kissed my neck, slowly withdrawing his touch. He tugged my braid, kissing my mouth, gentle and light. He stepped back, one hand still on my back, making sure I was steady. I turned to him, glassy-eyed.
“You—” I began.
He kissed me again, tugging up my zipper. “You owe me, Red. Later, on your knees, I’ll collect. You got me?”
I nodded, then felt my cheeks flush as he slipped the fingers he’d had inside me into his mouth.
“This will hold me until then.” He winked. “That and coffee.” He spun me back, facing the shelves. “Get to it.”
I peeked over my shoulder as he sauntered away. I grinned as I watched him adjust himself before he opened the door, waving at the customer, then heading to the sink to wash his hands.
I gripped the shelf, resting my head on my hand.
That was one way to say good morning.
His words drifted through my head. “I didn’t like it. Don’t do it again.”
I wondered as I went through the motions of making coffee if, perhaps, he was a little more mine than I realized.
Maybe he was a little more mine than he planned.
Without Brett there, Maxx was busy all day. The phone was steady, and next week was already filling up. I stayed in the garage, only heading to the house to pull out some burgers to grill later and make sure I still had lots of salad stuff. It was hot, so I put on the air conditioner and shut the windows before heading back with a sandwich for Maxx. I munched on mine as I walked across the grass, thinking of this morning.
Every time I was close to Maxx, I felt his eyes on me. The heat of his stare made the back of my neck prickle. His voice seemed to reach my ears no matter what I was doing. His laughter as he talked to customers seemed darker—richer. I felt him all over my body, the ache between my legs growing all day. I had dated prior to Maxx. Had sex before he entered my life, but what happened between us was so much more than just sex. The passion and need he inspired when he was close at times overwhelmed me. His growls and snarls turned me on. His possessive nature and the way he controlled me were both a surprise and a shock. I had always liked sex, but with Maxx, it was becoming an addiction.
I sighed, entering the fresher interior of the garage. On hotter days, Maxx kept the doors shut and the air as cool as possible, using the huge exhaust fan to keep the flow moving. It was warmer than usual, but better than the heat of outside. The thick cement walls helped, but there was still a change in temperature.
Maxx was crouched beside a motorcycle, working away as I went by.
“I brought lunch.”
He stood, wiping his hands. “Great. I just finished, and I’m starving.”
He followed me to the workbench and sat down, reaching for the sandwich and taking a large bite. I watched him for a moment. His T-shirt was soaked, his arms glistening in the tight sleeves. He wiped his forehead, taking another bite. “What?”
“You’re drenched.”
“It’s hot. I’m putting out a lot of manual effort.” He shrugged. “It happens.”
“Are you drinking lots of water?”
“Yes.”
“You should change your shirt. Wear something lighter.”
He glanced down. “I guess.”
“You should have a shower and cool off.”
He chuckled. “You worry too much.”
“No, I’m being sensible. I’ll go get you a fresh shirt.” I frowned. “We should get you some lighter pants or long shorts for days like today.”
“I like my jeans.”
“Some cotton ones that breathe would help keep you cool.”
He wiped his forehead again, and I went to the washroom and soaked a towel, coming back and draping it on his neck. He jumped as the towel touched his skin, then relaxed.
“That feels good.”
There was a small restroom off the office—a sink, toilet, and a shower stall. “Shower, and I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”