Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Whatever trepidation I had disappeared, right along with my shame. I spread my legs and grabbed the rail.
Max’s voice was gruff as he ran his fingers up and down the length of me. “You’re so wet for me already.” He slipped one finger inside and glided in and out a few times before adding a second. “Someday soon, I want to watch you do this to yourself. Lie on my bed, legs spread wide apart, and put your fingers inside yourself. Will you do that for me?”
I nodded. In the moment, I would have told him I’d do anything he asked. My body was climbing so fast and furious, I just needed another minute. Max pulled his fingers all the way out and plunged back in with three. And suddenly I didn’t need those sixty seconds after all. He pumped once, then twice, and then I was falling over the edge. I hadn’t even realized I’d made a sound until a hand covered my mouth.
After, I’d barely caught my breath when Max turned me around.
He smiled. “Better?”
When I didn’t respond, he chuckled. “Come on. Let me clean you up in the bathroom before the agent comes looking for us.”
Two hours later, we were back in Max’s hotel suite and had sex for the second time today. I laid with my head on his chest while he stroked my hair.
“Will you come back with me next month to help find an apartment?” he asked.
“If I can. Can I get back to you about it?”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
“What are you laughing about?”
“You should’ve been a man. You’ve perfected the art of not committing to anything.”
I sighed. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’ll keep working on you. Do you like California?”
I propped my chin on top of my hands to answer. “I do. The weather is great, and I love the canyons and all the different topography. But I also love the four seasons of New York and all its energy. And I hate to drive. What about you? Are you going to miss New York?”
Max stroked my hair. “I’ll miss three of the four seasons. And the pizza. But I prefer to drive than take public transportation. How often do you come out here for business?”
“Two or three times a year.”
Max nodded. He stared into my eyes for a long time. “I’ll also miss you.”
Being out here was a stark reminder of what was coming at the end of the summer. If it made me feel this emotional now, how would I feel then? Refusing to get upset, I turned my head and kissed his heart. “I’ll miss you, too.”
CHAPTER 19
* * *
Max
“What can I get you to drink, Max?” Celia Gibson walked over to the bar on the covered patio in her backyard. “Would you like more wine, or do you prefer an after-dinner drink?”
“More wine would be great.” I looked around at the sprawling landscape, which included a large, glass greenhouse at the far corner. The lights were on, and I could see her husband and Georgia talking inside.
Celia came to stand next to me, passing me a glass of wine. “So I know you’re not officially on our roster yet, but can I solicit you for a charity event that’s near and dear to my heart anyway?”
“Of course.”
“In early August, before practices start, I run a charity exhibition hockey game. This will be my eighth year. Since we’re the team in the celebrity mecca of the universe, it’s Hollywood stars vs. pros. People get a kick out of it, and you’d be surprised how many celebrities are die-hard hockey fans and get into it. All of the money from ticket sales and advertising revenue goes to the National Alzheimer’s Foundation. Both my mother and Miles’s father had the horrible disease.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’d love to be part of it.”
“Good. I’ll have my assistant send you the dates and some free tickets for Georgia or anyone you want to invite.”
“Sounds good.”
We looked back over to the greenhouse. Celia sipped her wine and smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be seeing your Georgia for a while. People always assume the flower garden is mine, not my husband’s. I guess it’s a strange combination. His passions are his beloved hockey team and flowers. Once Miles gets someone into his greenhouse, he talks their ear off for at least a half hour.”
I smiled. “Roses are Georgia’s thing. She won’t mind.”
Celia motioned to the furniture behind us. “Why don’t we have a seat?” After we got comfortable, she smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but it’s nice that Georgia has a thing. I’ve seen a lot of wives and girlfriends move out here with their significant others. Some give up their career, and some are young and didn’t establish their own career before jumping into the hockey lifestyle with their partner. But the ones that last, at least from what I’ve seen, are the ones where the partner has something important of their own to tend to. As you know, players are on the road half the year. Many start out with their partner following along to every city, and that’s fun for a while. But it starts to lose its luster, or kids come and the constant travel isn’t feasible anymore. Don’t get me wrong, kids are a full-time job. But a woman who has her own thing, something she’s passionate about, that helps them keep their identity. Trust me, it’s very easy to become a Mrs. Gibson or Mrs. Yearwood and forget you’re also a Celia or a Georgia.”