Summer Kisses (263 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan,Katie Graykowski,Laurie Kellogg,Bev Pettersen,Lindsey Brookes,Diana Layne,Autumn Jordon,Jacie Floyd,Elizabeth Bemis,Lizzie Shane

Tags: #romance

BOOK: Summer Kisses
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Max
! With crystal-sharp clarity, she looked deep into his eyes and matched him move for move.

She rode the unbelievable sensations higher and higher, unable to stop, almost unable to breathe. As she hovered on the brink of exquisite, almost unbearable pleasure, he leaned back and put a hand to her chin, fixing her gaze with a question in his.

“Yes, please. Now.” Her eyelids fluttered. “You come, too.”

His final thrust took her over the edge. He followed her with a triumphant shout that made her smile.

After a few minutes, she stretched out full-length against him, fully aware of the nakedness of his body beneath hers. Resting against him should have been about as comfortable as snuggling a slab of marble, but somehow, it suited her.

Slowly, she came to realize the awkwardness of her position, not just emotionally or socially awkward, but physically awkward as well. She raised her head to determine the problem. She seemed to be… diagonal.

They’d made it as far as the stairs. She eased herself away, perching on the step beside him. “Oh, God. You are awesome good.”

Max lay stretched with his feet grazing the floor and his shoulders about six steps up. He turned his head toward her and gave a cocky grin at the words she hadn’t intended to say out loud.

Suddenly, the realization of what they’d done, where they’d done it, and all his gorgeous nudity was too much to consider in one gulp. She wanted to sprint upstairs to hide, but imagined the view that would provide. Instead, she slid into a boneless puddle onto the foyer’s hard ceramic tile floor.

Nonchalantly—as if she entertained naked men in her foyer every day—she gathered her hair on top of her head, but she couldn’t decide where to fix her eyes. His ankles got most of her attention. They were nice ankles. Sturdy. Neutral.

She felt his gaze on her, glanced up as far as his knees, chickened out and looked away. “If it’s not too indelicate to mention such a thing, I’m sweating.” The air had turned into a sauna around them.

She winced.
Charming.
Probably the most charming thing anyone had ever said to him during afterglow.

“At least you’re not cold anymore.” Beside her, he sat up and planted his elbows on his knees. He stroked his palm over her hair and sifted a few of the curly strands through his fingers, sensual and comforting.

She was transfixed by the tattoo the movement revealed. A lightning bolt ran along his left side from beneath his armpit to his hip.
Dear Lord
. How had she missed that before? She reached out, wanting to touch it, but pulled her hand back.

“You’re embarrassed,” he said, “and you shouldn’t be.”

She ducked her head again, even more chagrined to know he read her so easily. “Aren’t you?”

“A little.” He reached out and tilted her chin up. When she gathered the courage to look at him, he rewarded her with an intimate smile—equally sexy and endearing, damn him. “That wasn’t my best effort.”

“What?”

“I can do a lot better.”

She found his comment a little intriguing and a little hurtful.
How
much better could he be? And what about
her
was so lacking that it caused him to perform at less than his best? “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but I got distracted.”

“By what?” She was ready to toss him out on his bare, and oh, so fabulous butt if his mind had been on some mundane and unrelated topic instead of his performance.

“By you.” He reached for her.

If a heart could melt, hers did.

He was the most surprising man she’d ever known—not that she’d known that many. Every day of the past week, she’d learned something new about him. And today, he’d taught her something new about herself. She was as susceptible to Max Williams’ charms as every other woman in the free world.

She didn’t want to think about it.

She didn’t want to think about
anything
.

Tomorrow, she’d deal with the fallout. Tonight, she’d take what she could get.

“By me?” She settled deliciously into his lap.

“By your sexy body, your sensuality, your sweetness, and your surprising assertiveness. Dynamite combination. Everything about you was so much more than I expected. You astounded me.” He nuzzled her neck and licked her ear, catapulting her senses into another round of sexual frolicking. “Want me to make it up to you?”

“I might be willing to give you a second chance.” She did her best to sound reluctant, when she was already plotting the things she wanted to do to him. “But this time we really should go upstairs.”

“You’re on.” He laughed, gathered her close, grabbed his pants from the stair rail, and then surged to his feet. “The stairs
might
have been another thing that distracted me.”

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.

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