Meet Your Mate (A Good Riders Romance Book 1) (15 page)

Yep,
that
was better. Max
settled Annabel at his side an hour or so later. Not that the first time hadn’t
been fantastic, but it had been fast and furious and he hadn’t taken enough
time to make Annabel feel she was everything he wanted in a woman.

But this time, the second time had
been right up there with his best.

Perfect timing. Stimulation,
satisfaction, quantity and quality… all perfect. Better than perfect. They
might have to do it again before he figured out what made it so special. As
soon as humanly possible. If he hadn’t been totally drained of all energy, he’d
smile at the prospect.

He summoned the strength to draw
Annabel closer. While he waited to rebound, he wanted to keep her near enough
to feel and smell and touch. She was just the right height to pillow her head
on his shoulder and lie next to him without any awkward bumping elbows, knees,
or shins.

He hoped she wouldn’t want to talk
but he supposed that was asking too much. Women always wanted to talk, and not
about pleasure, fantasies, technique or staying power, but about
meaning
and
feelings
. As if doing what felt good had to mean something more than that.
And maybe it did. Not that he was ready to consider giving up his freedom for a
woman. Not like his old man had. Not ready to be left with a trio of hungry
brats and no one to warm his bed at night.

Mr. Free and Easy. That was Max.
Especially now, when he was about to sign a fan-damn-frigging-
tastic
deal and achieve a major career goal.

And if someone did eventually make
him want to give up on that, did compel him to stick around, it wouldn’t be for
a long, long time, and it wouldn’t be Annabel Morgan.

No matter how warm and wild she’d
been when he was inside her wet heat. No matter how perfectly she fit into his
arms.

He knew they weren’t destined to be
together long-term. She didn’t want that and neither did he. If something about
that thought made him irritable, he didn’t stop to examine it. She’d made it
clear from the get-go that she didn’t think they’d ever be anything more than
casual friends.

Of course, he doubted if she’d ever
pictured him in her bed either, and here he was.

His spirits lifted a notch until
another unwelcome thought punctured his optimism. Her busy little brain was
already probably thinking up a hundred good reasons to kick him out of her bed
right now. But he hoped not.

The sparks that flared between them
hadn’t even come close to burning themselves out yet. Not by a long shot.

Looking down at Annabel, he saw
that she looked—something. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Tense?
Thoughtful? Distant?

“How do you feel—” She paused to
raise up on her elbow and lean her head against her hand.

Ah ha!
Here it comes!
That’s what they always wanted to know.

“—about not winning the award?”

Where had that come from
? “A
little bummed, I guess.” And a little pissed to know that he hadn’t held her
attention for more than five minutes past her mind-blowing climax. Her
second
one! Had she been thinking about the damned award the whole time they’d been
mak
—having sex?

She smoothed his hair off his
forehead in a comforting gesture, but he pulled away. He couldn’t believe she
thought he needed comfort. He had been comforting
her
, and now, she
tried turning the tables on him!

“I thought if
I
didn’t win
the award,
you
would.” Her fingers trailed tentatively across his
shoulder.

“I guess I just didn’t sleep with
the right person,” Max joked, although all he really wanted to do was roll her
onto her back and make her shout down the roof again. He still couldn’t believe
Annabel was such a screamer.

“Is that how she did it?” Annabel
asked, eyebrows raised in shock.

Just because she tested his control
beyond endurance and made his blood pound, he sometimes forgot what an innocent
she really was, until she said something that naive.

“How else would you explain it?”

She pushed her hair off her
forehead, raising her arm and diverting his attention to where the sheet
slipped down to her waist.

“Talent?” she suggested, tugging
the sheet back into place. “Topical subject matter? The backing of her
production company?”

“We had all that, too.”

She cocked her head to the side and
studied him in a way that was so knowing and so wise that it made him want to
grab his pants and run. “
Would
you have slept with someone just to win?”

His eyes crinkled into a smile as
he tightened his arm around her. “Only you.”

“You seem to be taking it pretty
well.”

“What? Sleeping with you?”

“No, losing.”

Why did they have to talk about
this now? If he wanted to bare his soul, he’d have gone to bed with the
station’s sexy lady shrink who’d been sending him some pretty strong do-me
signals for the past few months. “I won’t be if you keep repeating the L-word
like that.”

“Seriously.”

Damn, he hated hearing that word,
especially in a beautiful woman’s bed. “I wanted to win the award to brush up
my image for a network job. Just being nominated might have done the trick, but
I’ll know soon enough.”

Her hand on his chest stilled,
interrupting the erotic pattern she’d been tracing. “Is the job in New York or
LA?”

“New York. Didn’t I tell you?” He
tried hard to sound casual, knowing he had hinted about it at best. Still it
wasn’t like they were joined at the hip—not usually anyway. And no contract had
been signed. “Investigative journalist for a national program. I might still do
some on-camera work, but mostly I’d be developing and investigating the
stories.”

“What a great opportunity.” Her
enthusiasm rang a bit forced. “When will you know?”

“Soon. My agent’s hammering out the
deal now.”

“Well, congratulations.” She leaned
over and gave him a stiff-lipped kiss, more maiden aunt than hot new lover. “No
wonder you weren’t as concerned about winning the award as I was.”

“Howard will still let you do what
you want now, won’t he?”

“Oh, sure,” she said too quickly,
not meeting his eyes.

Her future was not his concern. But
still. “What will you do if he doesn’t?”

“Something else.” She shrugged,
pretending indifference. Worst liar Max had even known. “Meanwhile, do you know
what I’d like?”

“I hope so.” He started easing the
sheet from her grip. Even though the mood for romance had been strangled out of
him about ten minutes ago, he might be able to revive it with the right
incentive.

“I’m hungry,” she announced,
tracing his tattoo down his side.

“Hey, me, too, babe.” He reached
for her. She stopped him with his mouth a half-inch from her breast.

“For
food
.”

“No wonder.” He sighed,
disappointed, but understanding. “You hardly ate any of the rubber chicken at
the dinner.”

She tossed the covers back and
hopped out of bed. “Give me a minute, and I’ll make you an omelet.”

Her bare ass disappeared into the
bathroom.

Idiot!
Annabel turned the
shower on full blast
. Of course, his plans don’t include me.
Tonight was
nothing more than two people coming together on a night of mutual need. If he
turned out to be funny and personable, sweet and gentle, it was because he’d
had a lot of practice at moments like these.

She’d wanted to put some zip and
zing into her life, and now she knew—too much zing took the zip right out of her.
Still, it had been a night to remember. She intended to put on her happiest
face for whatever time they had left. He’d said she could have all night. That
meant they had about three or four more hours. She’d make the most of them.

After she stepped out of the shower
and dried off, she reached for her flannel robe. It zipped down the front, had
a hood, and made her look more like a linebacker than a femme fatale.
Definitely not sexy enough for Max. She returned the robe to its hook.

She went into the bedroom to grab
something with a little more pizazz from her dresser. Max blessedly had his
back turned, bent over putting on his trousers. She paused to enjoy the view
until the outcome of the action registered. Putting on his pants!

“Are you leaving?” She clapped her
hand over her mouth as soon as the words were out.

He turned and looked at her. First,
like he was appalled by her question. Then, like she was nuts. And finally,
like she was naked. She liked the third look the best.

“No, we’re going downstairs.” He
pulled another condom from his pocket. “And being a former Boy Scout—always
prepared—I thought we might need this.”

“Oh, thank heavens! You have
another one.” She went over and put her arms around his neck, brushing lots of
bare skin against him. He sucked in his stomach as all his muscles turned to
granite. Encouraged, she let her hands slide over the contours of his back.

“Last one.” He cupped her bottom
and pressed his erection into her. “We can use it now or later. Your choice.”
His kiss encouraged
now
.

She wanted him again, already. And
incredibly, he seemed to be hers for the taking. For the moment. Unused to the
instant gratification of any of her desires, let alone sexual ones, she
hesitated. She knew the value of waiting for what she wanted. “If we use it
now, there won’t be any later?”

“Well, we’d have to improvise. But
I have some ideas about that.” He knelt in front of her and kissed the
heart-shaped birthmark on her hip.

“Improvisation is good.” She
clutched his head, unsure whether she wanted to pull him to her or push him
away. His mouth caressing her intimately was a much-anticipated fantasy. One
that had kept her awake for several nights and was totally outside her limited
experience.

“Sometimes, improvisation is the
best.” He kissed a path across her stomach and dipped his tongue into her
navel.

She trembled.
Too much!
Definitely too much. But she wanted what was coming next. She feared it. She
doubted if she could live without it. Still... She made a half-hearted attempt
to delay. “But anticipation is good, too.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Love
anticipation.” He nestled his face against the triangle of curls and let his
tongue tease her slick flesh. “But I love the taste of you more.”

His mouth took her then and
caressed her at the exact spot where every sensation pooled. She didn’t know
she could
feel
this much.
It’s too much.
Too much.
The
refrain repeated in her head with the rhythm of his tongue against her until
too much was not nearly enough.

She sucked great gulps of air into
her lungs as the pressure built and her fists tightened in his hair. As his
tongue rasped over her faster and faster, her climax came closer and closer.
She felt hot all over and dizzy, and so,
so
good. She tensed and arched
her hips against him, shouting her release as her orgasm slammed into her,
overwhelming and compacting all other sensations into one powerful, defining
focus. She surfed the wave of the moment, longing for it to last forever.

Her knees had never failed her
before, but now, they buckled. Only her grip on his muscular shoulders kept her
from crumbling into a heap. Light-headed, she eased to the floor in front of
him, thighs straddling thighs, forehead touching forehead. Shaken, she couldn’t
speak. If he made a wisecrack, she’d smack him.

He leaned back a fraction and
looked at her, his eyes filled with wonder. His fingers went to her cheeks,
touching the moisture she hadn’t realized was there. “Hey, you’re not supposed
to cry. I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Good is such an inadequate word.”
She closed her eyes and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “That far exceeded
good. Thank you.”

Encircling her in his arms, he
rocked her back and forth while she fought to control her unruly emotions.

“You’re—I never—Oh, my.” She paused
to catch her breath. “
That
was incredible.”

“Have you never done
that
before?”

Reduced to a physical and emotional
puddle, she could only shake her head.

“Why not? You obviously enjoyed
it.”

Why not, indeed? It seemed
disrespectful to think of her husband and compare him unfavorably. “My husband
was older. Very dignified, very reserved.”

“Very boring.”

“Not boring,” The disloyal thought
shamed her. “He just wasn’t as interested or comfortable with sex as you are.”

“Was he gay?”

“No!”

“Then there’s no excuse.”

She remembered the nights Carl came
to bed, pajama-clad. He’d reach for her and enter her so silently, so
distantly. They’d never shared this kind of pleasure in their intimacy. Even
though it had been less than fulfilling for her, she’d thought she might be the
one who was lacking. She never realized how much laughter and emotion could be
shared in the moment. “I don’t think he would have enjoyed it.”