Broken (31 page)

Surprised, Cassidy said, “What?”

Knowing she wanted to wait before informing her family of their marriage, she hadn’t given much thought to Max’s. Like her, she’d assumed Max was simply waiting for the right time to break the news. She hadn’t suspected Max didn’t plan to tell his family—ever.

The man had the nerve to appear confused at her reaction. “I told you. They’re no longer a part of my life.”

“Max, you can’t cut off your whole family because you’re mad at your brother and mother,” she exclaimed.

His diamond-hard blue eyes met her concerned brown ones. “Watch me,” he said, and popped the spoon in his mouth.

Cassidy quickly learned that just because her parents hadn’t pitched a fit about her marriage didn’t mean they were accepting of it. There were more questions and concerned comments from both parents in between trips to nearby shopping centers, football games, eating leftovers, and watching holiday movies on Lifetime and Hallmark channels. While neither was happy about her new marital status, in the end they seemed to understand—even if they didn’t approve—the reason for her hasty nuptials. 

Max had been her rock, stepping in and smoothing the way whenever things became too intense for her or the queries too intrusive. He never got offended, never became impatient. Whenever her mother’s inquiries became too personal, Max deflected them in a way that eased her mother’s anxiety without intruding on their privacy. If Cassidy hadn’t already acknowledged her love for the man, his wonderful handling of her parents—her mother in particular—would have had her wounded, weary heart falling head over heels in love with him all over again.

Before she knew it, she was standing in the driveway, puffs of cold air exiting her mouth, waving her parents goodbye as her father reversed their minivan out onto the street. As soon as the vehicle was out of sight, Cassidy turned to Max with a huge, relieved smile. “We survived!”

Max laughed, his blue eyes sparkling in the evening twilight. “Told you you were worrying for nothing.”

“Says you,” she said, almost giddy with relief.

He draped his arm around her neck and tugged her toward the warmth of the house. “Your parents aren’t that bad. I really like your father. He gave me some parenting pointers.”

She snuggled close to his side and grinned up at him. “Not that you need any. You’re doing great with Zoe. Of course you and Daddy got along. It’s all that male bonding you two did over football.”

It helped that Max had continued sleeping in the basement. Her father might know their relationship wasn’t exactly platonic, but Max hadn’t felt the need to rub it in her parent’s faces. He’d reminded her, “
I promised to give you time. That hasn’t changed simply because your parents know the truth about us. I’ll stay in the basement. This way your parents won’t think everything we told them was a lie. The rest…? We’ll work that out in our own timing
.”

Max’s face, already pink from the cold, flushed a duller red at the compliment. “Thank you. It means a lot, coming from you.” Suddenly he caught her up under her arms and swung her in a circle, shouting, “I survived the first visit from my in-laws!”

Laughing like a loon, Cassidy held on tight until he set her down. Then she placed her icy hands on his cheeks and kissed him soundly. It was like setting a match to tinder. They hadn’t touched for
days
. Having her parents around was better than any chastity belt created. Hunger and sheer need surged to the forefront. All thoughts of laughter were erased in the conflagration.

Cassidy moaned, a needy thread of sound. Max groan from deep in his throat.

“Inside,” Max said in between kisses.

“Yes.” He needed to be inside of her, right this very moment. She couldn’t wait another second. Cassidy attacked the buttons of his coat.

Chuckling huskily, he grabbed her hands. “Sweetheart, we need to get inside the house. We’re putting on a show for the neighbors.”

Why was he stopping her? She needed skin-to-skin contact. When she only gazed at him in dazed incomprehension, he muttered something rough under his breath. It sounded like, “You’re killing me, honey.”

She wasn’t given time to figure it out. Max bent over, put his shoulder in her stomach, and lifted her off her feet. The frost-covered ground moved rapidly as he wasted no time getting them inside the house. He didn’t stop when the front door closed behind them. Locking it, he carted her down the hallway and dumped her on the bed.

“Off! Everything off,” she demanded. Her feet were in the air as she struggled to loosen suddenly tangled shoestrings. Why the hell had she put on boots just to walk her parents to the van? Why hadn’t she left on her house slippers? She’d be out of them by now.

Cassidy finally managed to remove her shoes. The rest of her clothing followed swiftly. She glanced at Max to see he was only partially undressed. He’d taken off his jacket, shoes, and socks, and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. “What’s taking you so long?”

He arched one black brow. “What’s your hurry? We have all night. Zoe’s not due home until tomorrow evening.” Nell had stopped by today to visit with Cassidy’s parents and asked to take Zoe home with her for the night.

Knee-walking her way to the edge of the bed where Max stood, she took his hand and placed it between her spread thighs. “I
need
.”

She closed her eyes and let her head droop as he parted her folds and probed delicately. One slender, blunt-tipped finger delved deeper, entering her vagina. Cassidy arched her hips and tightened those sensitive inner muscles, goose bumps breaking out all over at the sensation. “
Max
!”

“You’re already wet for me,’ he murmured approvingly. He added another finger, his gaze avidly watched as his digits slid in and out of her moist sex.

“Max.” It was a protest this time. What he was doing felt good—damned good—but she needed, wanted more. She didn’t know why she was so desperate for him, and if her mind had been clear enough, she might have wondered. All she knew was that having Max hard and deep inside of her was suddenly as necessary as her next breath. It frustrated her that he didn’t seem to feel the same urgency.

Shoving her hands down the front waistband of his loosened jeans, she searched out her prize. Max hissed as she wrapped her greedy hand around his already straining erection. “Your hand’s like ice.”

She pumped his cock. “Heat melts ice.” And his cock was hot steel in her hand.

He grabbed her wrist, stilling her. “You keep that up and this will be over before it really starts.”

Eyes narrowed, Cassidy climbed off the bed. Max automatically shifted to give her room. She used his movement to tangle his feet with hers and push him onto the bed. Before he’d acclimated to his new position, she was on him. Cassidy had his zipper down and his jeans around his hips while he was still laughing at her. His snickers turned to groans as she mounted him and sank down on his shaft. With one hand braced on his chest and the other on her thigh, Cassidy began to ride.

Her motions were smooth and languid, the intensity of her need lessening now that she had him where she wanted, but rapidly became quick and choppy. She bounced on him, focus turned inward to her own pleasure, chasing the orgasm she felt building in her womb. Her breaths came out in gasping moans, combining with Max’s harsh breathing and muttered curses. The springs of the mattress squeaked their protest at the abuse it was receiving.

With both hands now braced on Max’s chest, Cassidy slammed down with her pelvis, barely rising before she was reversing directions again. Max gripped her hips, bent his knees, and canted up, meeting her thrust for thrust.

“I’m…coming,” she gasped right before her vision darkened and stars burst behind closed lids. Everything in her tightened and bore down.

“Fuck!” Max shouted and arched so high she’d have been thrown off of him if he hadn’t held her clamped to him. He stilled, bucked a few times, and froze again.

Winded, heart thumping wildly, Cassidy fell forward in a boneless heap. Beneath her Max struggled to catch his breath, his heart pounding just as hard as hers.

“
Damn
...I…don’t know…what…brought that…on, but I…pray God…it will…happen…again,” he panted, voice reverent.

“You,” she said, yawning drowsily. She snuggled closer, burying her nose in the curve of his neck and shoulder.

His hand lay comfortably on her lower back. He flexed his fingers. “Hey, you going to sleep on me?”

“Sorry,” she said around another yawn. “You wore me out.”

He murmured some response, but she’d already slipped into sleep.

“Cassidy?” He waited a second before calling her name again. The steadiness of her breathing told him she dozed.

Max idly followed the indent of her spine from base to nape in a languid stroke. Cassidy got to him the way no other woman did. When they made love, her genuine responses to his touch made him feel ten feet tall. He was more of a man with her than with any other woman he’d been with, and he’d known a few.

He reflected on her parents’ recent visit. It had gone better than even he’d anticipated. Cassidy’s mother, though formidable, wasn’t as bad as Cassidy believed. Underneath the severity was a love that ran deep and true for her daughter. Unfortunately, Mrs. Palmer’s manner of expressing her feelings left much to be desired. Given time, once she realized they both wanted the same thing—what’s best for Cassidy—she’d accept him in her daughter’s life.

On the other hand, Cassidy’s father, for all his laidback mannerisms, still concerned Max. He had no doubt that should the man believe Max to be a threat to his daughter or granddaughter, Mr. Palmer would find a way to make him disappear. The man was a force to be reckoned with, and when Zoe got older, Max wanted to be just like him with any knucklehead who came sniffing around his daughter.

His thoughts turned to his father. Max was much younger than most his siblings, he and Nicco being conceived after his mother turned forty. The oldest girl was fifteen years older than him, so he didn’t remember much about Maggie’s dating years. Or Carlotta and Arabella either, for that matter, who were twelve and eleven years older. From his brothers-in-law dealings with his father, Pop couldn’t have been too much of a hard-ass. However, his sisters were a lot like his mother—domineering. Pop probably knew not to say much lest he have to contend with his daughters.